Death's Song

3- Nocturne

Death stares. Not quite human, his cloak symbolizes all that he is: dark and hidden. He looms before me, and tears form on my cheeks. The feelings that flood my being overwhelm. Mama's death, to facing Death, and falling down the stairs; it all crafted one confusing day. Unable to focus on what's important, I allow my body to collapse. I have Death's attention; he can wait. My entire face hurts, and my head throbs. Death remains a fixt point. As the tears slow, I wonder if all that happened was a dream. Perhaps Mama lives. Death continues to stare, but I rise from the floor anyways. He is but an illusion. Mama is real.

The stairs groan beneath my weight, and I wish they would be quiet to let Mama rest. As I turn about the landing in the middle, I note that Death moves from his spot. He follows me up the stairs. I walk faster. It's not real, cannot be. Yes, I believe the myths and legends, but Death cannot be following me.

"Katerina, I am so sorry about your mother," the doctor says when my head peeks into the room. "There wasn't much more I could do, or anyone else, really."

Mama's face is so pale. My eyes play tricks on me the longer I stare. The doctor says she's gone, and I saw her go myself, but to watch the body left behind is surreal. Though her body breathes no more, my eyes swear her chest gently rises and falls like normal. Perhaps it is the mind's tactic for self-preservation, or perhaps it cannot comprehend its end. What is the end? Is there something after this?

Mama's soul flew away instead of ceasing to be. That's all I need to know for now: she is no longer here. The body in the bed is just a body. It's not her, not anymore. Mama travels now, just like Father. She probably met him on the road somewhere.

"Do you need some time with her?"

The doctor's question alerts me to his presence, forgotten in the corner of the room. My tired eyes turn to him for a moment. I seek to understand his question.

"To say your goodbyes?" he asks.

"No." I furrow my brow. "No, she left already. Saying goodbye now would make no sense. No, I said my goodbyes before. She sleeps. I sang her a Lullabye." Still numb, my body turns me around before the doctor or I can process it. Death waits outside the door and follows as I tread the lonely hall to the stairs.

"Katerina," the doctor says. I look to his face, such a kind one, and try to understand anything. "Katerina, I know you're not all right, but is there anything I can do to help you? You're being so strong."

Again, I stare, not knowing how to respond. Where was I going just then? I walked away from Mama's body. Why? In the pregnant moment that passes, I grow hyper-aware of my surroundings and of myself. The floorboard beneath me creeks as my weight shifts onto my right foot. The doctor's eyes glow with concern. My hands shake. My heart thuds, sending a deep pulse that is felt all over my body. Death stands in the farthest corner of my peripheral vision. He does not breathe, like Mama. He does not live. The air is dense, so difficult to breathe. I feel the need to go away, like Father, and now like Mama. My family is not here, so why am I? All this consideration fills one moment, and all I can reply is, "No, I'm going to get some air."

The doctor's eyes bore into my back as I take my time to let each descending stair step release its whine of grief for Mama. As I turn the landing, I see that Death continues to follow me. Does he feel bad? Is that why he stays with me? Perhaps he comforts those left behind as well. None of my books say anything about that. He reaps souls. He does no more or less.

Once the ground floor meets me, the utterance of sound stops me. Is it Death? What does Death even sound like? No, this is music. I hear it: first a violin plays the melody of Mama's Lullabye. Then more strings join it, followed by other instruments I don't recognize. An entire orchestra fills the cottage with a heroic and sublime rendition of her song. It sounds as if it comes from above. Yet, when I turn to go back up the stairs, I find the doctor frozen on the steps.