The White Tower

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The black sky juxtaposed against the straight white form of the white tower a beautiful sight to behold. Like pinholes in a piece of paper, stars dotted the velvet of the night sky. From the top of the monument, or what was meant to be a monument, but became a guard tower, a lone sentry watched over the city that had become his home. It was once beautiful, but had fallen into disrepair, like the old velvet dress he kept at his home. He stands there and looks. He looks to the moon, staring down at him like an eye. Then again, it might be an eye, he thought. He stared right into the moon, in a hopeless parody of a staring contest. On the count of three, he thought. One. He looked down. He was scared. Then he thought of the velvet dress. Two. He looked up, into stars that would soon fade, into blackness that would soon give way to light. Three! He stepped off the highest balcony of the tallest tower in the biggest city and into thin air. He fell.
That was where his parents met. His mother’s slender beauty was framed by the floral dress she was wearing and the white gloves she donned upon her little hands. Those white gloves were tightly clamped around a stick holding a grotesquely beautiful silver mask. It bore a resemblance of a tiger, but it also was a monkey. She and her friends were fighting over it. That mask is what caught his eye. He was wearing a mask like a golden lion. It had magnificent brown circles around the eyeholes and his golden eyes locked on her silver ones. There love had been firmly planted there.
Their love blossomed like the flower that he picked for her in the soil beside the tower. He had brought a picnic lunch, and she was laughing the darkness away. His hand found hers and they entwined, never to be broken. They were married by that very same tower, their lips touching in front of that skeletal white frame. They were happy together
His torment began by that very same tower. His mother and father were going on a picnic, then looking out at the splendor that had once been that city. His mother was pregnant with him, and she had been craving grapes. Grapes, grapes, grapes and grapes. That was all she thought about. Why, his father was afraid that he was going to come out purple! But they were a happy couple and had happy times together, by that tower. And that particular visit was no different. She felt a kick, and her water broke, and she told so to him. He was training to be a maternity doctor, and he wanted to deliver this baby. He was a bigger baby than most, and he didn’t want to come out the normal way. But he finally delivered it and she looked at it and laughed and he laughed and the baby laughed and they were a happy family.
But soon enough, she became sick. She was very sick and she was bedridden for a while. She was in a lot of pain, and he attended to her every day. He gave her medicine, and he gave her therapy. All of her hair fell out. One day, he took her to the white tower, and as they looked up at the heights, she took her last, rattling breaths in his arms.
She was buried by the tower where she first met him, and he was sad. He cried until it seemed like he had cried more to the whole oceans. He cried until his eyes were sore. He cried until he was sick of crying. The baby looked on from his carriage, with a curious look in his eyes. He looked at the women in the ground. The woman with the wig. And he would always remember her as that. The woman with the wig. As for him, he never really got over her. He didn’t forget her, and he never got over her. It was tough for the baby, growing up with a father that was visiting the tower all those times. And every time, he took the baby with him. He always told the baby about their love, and every time he told those stories, he would get a faraway look in his eyes, like he was really there all those times, laughing the night away over a picnic. He too soon became sick, and the baby, his son, cared for him, like he cared for the baby’s mother all those years ago. One day, he requested to be taken to the tower. He looked up at the clouds, and it was then that he saw his last moon. The son was sad, and he had his father buried next to his mother, by the white tower. But he soon found love, like his parents did, by the white tower. He was just walking, and she bumped into him. She looked at him and he looked at her. She had golden hair that cascaded down to her knees and he had a raggedy beard. She looked at him with an expression of utter amazement and utter love. He sent that look back like a first-class mail.
Their romanced bloomed like his parents before them. They were happy and they brought peanut butter and grape jelly sandwiches to the white tower. They were happy and she kept on looking at him with that look of utter love and he always returned it.
She was about to have their baby, and they were at the hospital looking out on the white tower. It was going badly, and the baby wanted to come out the wrong way. So the doctor dived inside her, and saw that the baby had infected her inside. The baby came out, but it was very unhealthy. The baby closed its eyes for its first and last time by his mother. This seemed to be too much for the unhealthy mother and she also went the way of his parents. He was devastated. They, mother and baby, were buried together next to his parents in front of the white tower. He couldn’t go on to live anymore. And he fell. He fell next to the graves of his love, his son, and his parents. And he was happy.





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AmberAnn_d-_-b said...
Feb. 23, 2010 at 11:32 am
This is a great story, I love the details. Amazing work, good job :)
 
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