Nocturnal Creature

Ninety two years,

Yet I am still curious. What does it feel like to be alive? To be able to inhale the fresh morning breeze? Or feel the breeze blowing right through me? It’s been ninety two years long, and I even forget how to breathe, or the feel of the air filling in my nostril – the air that forms a cycle, running this life.

The heat of summer, the coldness of winter, the warmth of spring, the dry atmosphere in the meadow, or the freshness of air, the wetness of water dripping on my skin. Don’t even ask me about the sound of a pounding heart. Although I do still dream about it, back then when I was still able to feel the real heart pounding deep inside my body, blood rushing through my veins, the sensation that sent me to exhilaration. In my dream, I slowly counted the constant beat: One, two, three. Yet this dream doesn’t appear in my sleep. For how can I even sleep? I’ve spent almost a decade passing through countless sleepless nights. Lurking around with vague destinations.

There is just numbness. That is all that I feel. This skin feels like its nerveless. Paralyzed. As ninety two years passed, I still exist, here, in this very place. Moldy. Rotten. Waiting for the end that bothers to come. Maybe the end won’t come at all for a disgraced creature such as I. This empty building can’t even help to be the basin where I keep all my tearless cries. I want to scream, but somehow this loud, earsplitting voice doesn’t produce any echoes. I’m exhausted, after ninety two years waiting. But waiting for what? Or for whom? For someone that will possibly come over just to demolish this house, until it becomes as flat as the ground itself? Then leave me all alone, just by myself? Even without a shelter? Empty. Lonely. I’m exhausted, and if I’m alive, I will surely die soon. But can possibly a dead person like me, can die once again?

It is not until that girl comes and feels my presence. I allow that happens, and then, somehow everything comes alive. This feeling that I have never felt for the last ninety two years, resurrecting all my dead hopes, reminding me of the heat, coldness, wetness, and draught…and also the sound of the thumping heart. Despair instantly alters to be a hope. After all, maybe this is what I have been waiting all alone. Since then on, all of my nerves are reconnected and so is my hope: I want her to be here for all times, by my side, accompanying my days that once were filled with nothing but boredom. Nights passed as we spent them together. Days filled with joy and laughter. It was always blissful to even hear her laughter, that sound almost like soft tinkles of piano, ringing bells.

One night, I spent my time with her, and she asked me if I was tired to be just like this all along, and I answered. “No, as long as you’re by my side.” That particular night, I tell her about everything I’ve wanted to tell since my death. It feels good of course, after almost a decade rotten in this place, waiting for someone’s presence. God has apparently listened and answered to my prayer, by sending this girl over to this very place. That girl that doesn’t even bother to scream at a presence of a frightening creature like me.

“Have you forgotten how a heartbeat feels like?” she asked. Then, she drew my cold hand closer with her warm hand, and then, my palm landed on her chest. That was the very moment I heard the sound I’ve been longing to hear. The sound of thumping heart, just like in my dream. I carefully counted: one, two, three. It was magical. Though of course, it was not mine. It was hers. Not a problem though, for feeling her heartbeat, that beats uncontrollably fast at my presence, made me feel comfortable, and everything was just so…heavenly.

My days are spent with her, and never have I felt bored since then. We laughed together, and one time I took her to the small remains of an abbey on a small hill I like to spend my time in the night. I would do anything what it takes to see her smiling. There, through the large opening of the remains, I introduced her to the beauty of Scotland, which fascinated her a lot. The breathtaking scenery, the small city of Aberfeldy, the loch, the hills, all before her sight from the distance. A smile formed in her face, a smile that made me feel blissful. For there was only one thing I wanted: to see her smiling and feel happy. That is all I need for now.

Every night I always watch her in the darkness of the room. The moon showers on me through the window, allowing myself to get a clearer glimpse of her. There she is, curling restlessly on the bed - which was once mine. Her eyes shut, her long lashes fluttering. Her brows constantly frowned before they let themselves loosened. Sometimes the tight line of her lips opened up, forming a small thin gap between them. They moved little by little, like trying to say unspeakable words.

Sometimes I wonder what she might be dreaming. Possibly about the lucky boy she has been madly in love with. He becomes totally part of her life. The girl came home late everyday, as the boy took her on something he called ‘date’, and everytime she reached home, I could tell from her shining face that she was happy, and yet she was in love with him. On a special day of hers, she took the boy to the room – my room – uttering the word of ‘love’, and the boy gave her a locket, and the conversation ended up with them engaging in a passionate kiss, right before my sight. At that moment, it feels like there was a bomb in me, ticking, and then exploding, leaving me pierced into pieces.

What a lucky boy, I thought. He is not like me, for sure. He’s not an unembodied soul, and I bet he’s one figure every girl has dreamed to be with. Handsome, sweet, kind, rich, caring, living…and breathing. He gives her warmth in the midst of coldness. Even he’s lucky enough to feel the warmth of the girl’s skin and the softness of her lips.

Since then, I pray to God. That night, I prayed by her side, with her body lying on her warm bed. Watching those thick lashes fluttering in the same rhythm of her heartbeat that I once felt. I was curious. She must be dreaming, but what was I thinking? The dream wasn’t about me of course, but about that lucky boy who had taken her heart of course. There was no hope for me to steal her heart away from him. I was nothing but a friend in the presence of hers. With my icy hand, I reached out to caress her dark walnut colored hair. This icy cold hand, that doesn’t even deserve to make interactions with a skin as warm as hers. I closed my eyes, not to be falling asleep, as this hope arose:

A hope so that I can be just like her.

Back alive, with a second chance. Resurrecting. Of course there’s no way for it to occur, not with the permission of God. But I never stopped dreaming, to feel back alive and be at her side, desiring that people will no longer scream at my presence and hide away when I attempted to greet. I do have feelings, without any intentions to lurk around and just to scare people away. As for that moment, I just prayed, so that God allowed me that I could be by her side, the girl I loved with all of my heart. The girl that made me feel alive.

For I am just a nocturnal creature, whose presence is undesired. I am just an empty object, disembodied soul. My existence has become a question that precipitates at the bottom of my brain. All of my nerve systems and body stimulation have stopped functioning for long time. I am a fake creature, a doppleganger of my true persona that has long been buried under the warmth of the soil. I have lost track of my years here. I have quit counting down how many days left for me to exist. Maybe I will last for an eternity. How long am I going to wait? What will be the answer to my endless days? What will be the end of it? Will I continue to exist on, to see the girl that I love getting old, married, having children on her own, and so on?

The girl just stood there and her smile as if told me that everything was going to be alright. She had a bright future ahead. There is just me here. Empty and lonely. The girl is my enlightenment. She is the color of my grayscale life. I wish I will be able to convey my feelings to her.

But how am I able to win her heart? Will God give me a chance for me to live once more, and for the last time?