Sing Me To Sleep

Chapter 4

At first, everything is black. A vast, endless darkness that consumed everything in it's path, shadowing me in nothing. I was terrified. The doctor had said they would put me into a comatose state, but I didn't know what that meant. Would the darkness just envelope me until I woke up? Or would it be one long never ending dream? I try to find peace in the knowledge that I'm inside my own mind. I keep telling myself that nothing is going to jump out and drag me into some unknown pit where it will torture me for the rest of eternity. 

And then something occurred to me; This is my mind. I can make it whatever the hell I want it to be.

I squeeze my eyes shut tightly, focusing my mind on a parade. I remember my father took me to a parade when I was younger, maybe five or six. That was before he started drinking. When he started drinking...

No. I force myself to stop the train of thought there. I didn't want my dad manifesting in front of me. But even as I try to push the introspection away, I feel it becoming stronger. The atmosphere changes around me but I don't want to open my eyes, already knowing what I'll see.

"I'm talking to you, boy." I hear the all too familiar voice and cringe against their words. "Don't make me repeat myself." My hands begin shaking. This isn't new. This is nothing more than a memory. I repeat that to myself. This is just a memory. But the fear that swells up inside of me now is all too real. "I said, did you break the glass?"

"Please, calm down John." That's my mother's pleading voice, tears building up in her chest. She knows what's about to come, too. 

"Yes, Dad." I force myself to speak, the words fresh in my mind, though they haven't been spoken aloud for four years. I make my eyes open, seeing the familiar room around me. The beige curtains hang open in the window, letting the last amount of daylight to peek into the kitchen. My father looms over me, anger etched into his features. My mom waits near the stove, a shattered glass on the ground at her feet. This is the exact same image I remember seeing when I was thirteen. I swallow hard and my eyes meet those of my father. "I broke the glass."

"Dammit, Frank!" He yells at me. He throws his beer bottle at the wall near my mother and she jumps, letting out a small shriek, though the bottle misses her and scatters in pieces across the room.

"I'm sorry." My voice is small, almost silent. 

"Sorry?" My father spins on me. I can smell the alcohol, heavy in his breath as he glares at me. "Sorry doesn't cut it, now does it? Doesn't fix the glass. Right?" I shake my head a little, but my father's anger only builds. "But I guess sorry makes it all better. We can just break everything," He pauses to pick up one of the wooden chairs, sitting at the table until now, and throws it at the wall, missing and causing a crack to shoot up the window instead. "And then say sorry, and it will be better." He spins back to me. I'm trembling with fear. I try to think of some other memory, anything to get me the hell out of here, but the fear is making it hard to think straight. My father leans close into me, his words dripping with pure hatred as he watches me. "Well how about I break that fucking face of yours?" He says. "And then say sorry." He raises his hand to hit me but this time, I do something I should have done that night, four years ago. I run.

I spin on my heels and sprint toward the back door. I throw it open, hearing my father's screamed curses behind me, but I don't stop. I race straight toward the trees behind our house. The sun is setting and twilight is taking over. The cold air hits my skin and I cringe away from it, quickening my pace. I just need to keep running.

When the shaking sobs finally overtake me, I find myself tripping on branches, tumbling toward the hard ground. I let myself fall, curling into a ball. The ground is cool against my skin and the October air chills my face where tears stain my cheeks. My father's voice has disappeared, leaving me alone in the silence. But off in the distance, I hear something new. After a moment, I realize it's another voice. But it's not angry. There's no hatred. Instead, it's soothing. I focus on the serenity it creates within me and actually feel myself relax.

The voice gets closer, almost as if it's right in my ear, and I can make out some words now.

We hold in our hearts the sword and the faith 
Swelled up from the rain clouds, move like a wraith 
Well after all, we'll lie another day 
And through it all, we'll find some other way 

I let my eyes close as the voice sings, tranquility coming over me. After only a second, though, I feel the atmosphere change again and sit up, waiting for the scene around me to change. The trees still cluster around me, the twilight now faded into night, a bright moon shining overhead. But everything is otherwise the same. But then movement to my right makes me shift my gaze and I see the boy from before. He looks the same as when I saw him in the hospital; white hair, marching band uniform, skeleton face paint. He lays back on the dirt, his elbows propped up under him, his face turned toward the sky.

"Who are you?" I ask, fear coming over me once again.

He looks over at me, his eyes glimmering into the moonlight, and smiles. "Let me sing you to sleep." He says. I swallow hard. My heart is beating against my chest, panic threatening to push itself into my mind, but this is my mind. This person can't hurt me here. So I watch him as he opens his mouth, letting his voice fill the air around me with the same song I heard before. The same voice. I let my eyes go closed again, feeling exhaustion overwhelm me.

He's an angel, I think. He's my angel.

Song title; Desert Song

Lyrics copyright to My Chemical Romance