Death, Wings, and Meringue Pie

 

by

Jackson Tyler Freeman

 

The doctor says I am fighting a losing battle; cancer is destroying me from the inside out.

 

The missed girlfriend, college, cars, prom.

 

I am so scared as my life is being torn out in gouts.

 

I miss my mom. 

 

There is nowhere to hide, no nooks and crannies, no secret hide-and-seek places.

 

As the pain starts to hit my brain like maces,

I can suddenly see Death appear at the foot of my bed.

 

 Under the black hood, I can see the skeleton head that has sent on so many cases.

 

A shriveled hand reaching out from the sleeve as I scream in my head (I don’t have enough strength to scream or even whisper out loud).

 

 The dark hood whispers a calling that only I can hear. “Arise.”

 

 And then the mottled hand reaches out and pulls me out of my bed.

 

 I twist and turn, futile struggles spent in trying to get out of the grip like a vise.

 

And then I see me in the hospital bed, on the pillow rests my shaved head.

 

 I turn to the dark figure and call out in a strained, weak voice “I don’t want to go! There’s so much that I love!”  

But the dreaded figure calls back in a creepy voice “alas, but you must.”

 

And suddenly black wings sprout out of my back, flapping at fighter jet speeds, making me race towards a distant light above.

 

I look back, seeing the hospital room disappear behind me as I leave the world that I lust.

 

 Looking to the left, I see multiple people shooting towards the light that shines as bright as the sun shining down on the Isle of the Man.

 

 And then I realize my parents would be heartbroken with the departure of their son.

 

In that second, I make a plan.

 

I pull my hand upwards like a gun,

 

 Feeling deaths hands relax a bit,

 

 Then I yank downwards, breaking the steel grip and flap like heck towards the little dot of neon lighting that is the hospital room that has my parent’s son.

 

 As I look to the side I see other dark angels streak towards me, pulling out swords as black as a bottomless pit.

 

As one reaches out  to pull me back up, I suddenly felt raging pain, like a bolt of lightning had struck me or my neck had cracked.

 

Had the angel stuck me?

 

And then I was falling,

 

 falling down towards the light,

 

the wings fluttering useless against my back.

 

 I heard a buzzing sound, like a thousand bees.

 

 And then I slowly opened my eyes to see the sterile hospital room.

 

I stood up, stretched my wings, and asked for some of the lemon meringue pie my dad was feeding to my crying mom.

 

All they did was make weird hooting sounds like a demented baboon.

 

I snatched the pie out of my dad’s hands and started shoveling the pie into my mouth until it was gone.

 

Ahhhhhh. Pie.

 

So love— right then, my eyes must have grown to the size of dinner plates.

 

 I felt my back and found two bones protruding from my back with feathers on it that were clearly meant to fly.

 

 “It was real,” I whispered, my voice as scratchy as chalk on a slate.

 

Then I promptly fainted like a lousy cur.

 

The last thing I heard before sliding into unconsciousness was the doctor smugly saying” that’s the problem”.

 

Fudger.

 

Then the sweet darkness of sleep overcame me like I had been punched by a golem.

 

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WillyCon XIII (2011) Poetry Contest - 1st place for Elementary School Category