You cannot hide
You cannot hide from me
You cannot hide from your own shadow. Even if you are in the brightest sun, I’m in between your feet, behind your back, under your chin; waiting, watching every single step you may make, or you don’t.
Trying to get rid of me is like trying to stop breathing.
I see everything; I saw the death descending. I saw him turning into a raven, a black raven; to show everyone that their time had come. Maybe too early, maybe too late. For this man it was the right time. I knew it, because I had watched over him since his day of birth. I knew he had had a long life, a good life in comparison with billions of others, but time waits for nobody.
On this December night I saw the raven on his way to the old man. I knew I could not stop him, and I did not want to. You cannot stop death, no matter how hard you try. It is natural and I accept it. Not like humans who want to defeat it. Silly creatures. I wanted him to be prepared. Everyone needs the chance to go peacefully and I always offer it, to everybody. So on this night I started to prepare him, maybe ten minutes ahead of the dark wings of Death. I pulled myself together, formed a hard shape, formed a human hand out of darkness, out of me, and knocked gently on his chamber door.
He hesitated; he did not open the dark portal which would lead him to me. So I let my senses slip under it, behind the curtains and moved them to egg him on.
‘Go! Open the door! There is not much time,’ I yelled without a voice, knocking again. I think he heard me, because he was walking towards the door, talking to me, without knowing he was talking to someone. He opened it and saw me, saw me not, saw the darkness without seeing me in it. Did he get the message? He had nothing to fear, not anymore, and why should he fear something anyway?
I saw him watching, for something to move, to give him a sign of who was tapping on his door. But I would not move, my hand had disappeared, became a part of me once more, although it never left me.
“Lenore!” he whispered. ‘Yes,’ I thought. ‘You were going to see her, she is waiting!’ So I caught his voice out of the air and pushed it back to him. Like an echo it whispered “Lenore!” He turned back into his room, obviously confused. I knew I had not enough time, he had not enough time to understand why I was here; not just here physically, but here mentally, with all my knowledge to help him, to support him on his way.
I heard, saw, felt the raven landing on the ledge, then tapping against the window. He tried to persuade himself that it was just the wind. He was ignoring the simple fact that something, someone was there. How could he, after all I had done for him, just ignore my neighbour, my friend, his destiny? My senses flipped to the bird of death; formed a thought, gave him a sense of the unfairness which he had been subjected to. He should show the old man what I could not, that justice is important, but Pallas was in brightest light.
Beautiful Pallas Athene, upright god was above his chamber door; a bust of her was shown to everyone who entered his room. He was showing the sign of wisdom while he was ignoring the truth. I was so disappointed. As soon as he opened the entrance for Death, it fluttered in, flying up to the bust and sitting on top of dear Pallas to remind the man of things that had been done and things that had to be done.
I felt a spark of hope when he recognized that it was not a normal bird sitting there. Maybe he did not need my help to see things the way they really are. The black herald answered the requests of who he was to the old man with only one word. A word which explains everything. “Nevermore.”
Nevermore you have to fear,
nevermore you have to work,
nevermore you have to wait,
nevermore you have to lie,
nevermore.
‘Yes,’ I thought ‘go with him. There is no other choice, no other way to go.’ But the man started doubting. Why? How did this doubt rise? He would never leave you now, neither would I. Why did he change his own words? He already admitted that it was not a normal bird, now he denied it, just because he could not accept the truth! This was so ridiculous, but sadly typically human.
He tried to solve the ‘mystery’ of this speaking raven. He was sitting, thinking about every possibility he could imagine. He sat quietly, lost in his thoughts, not out loud as before. The one from the other side started his job, staring at the chest, into it, at the heart of the older; gently begun to suck the life out of it. I think he saw it, felt what the raven was doing. I could nearly see how he was getting more nervous, more scared, more angry with every second.
He burst out in a shout, cried that he had almost forgot his Lenore. But it was not bad, he should know that, he was going to see her any minute, There would be no doubt that he could ever forget her again.
He was talking again, dealing with the one who was wearing the dark wings. He continued asking questions which all received just one answer: “Nevermore.” And that was right. It did not matter anymore, it would nevermore matter. Why was he still imploring?
Why was he asking for balm if he would not feel pain anymore?
Why did he keep asking about Lenore if he was going to see her?
Why asked he his taker to leave if he will never? Nevermore.
The old man chained the messenger of death up. The raven was cursed to sit on top of Pallas forever, watching over the soul of the bounder. Both could never lift themselves, nor each other up. The old man should not see Lenore again; and Death has to send a new emissary to full fill the task.
And I am still following, listening, watching; until the end.
