Vanilla Sheets | Teen Ink

Vanilla Sheets

May 16, 2013
By WistfulThinking PLATINUM, Kiln, Mississippi
WistfulThinking PLATINUM, Kiln, Mississippi
21 articles 0 photos 12 comments

Favorite Quote:
'Behind him, across vast distances of space and time, from the place he had left, he thought he heard music too. But perhaps it was only an echo.'- The Giver by Lois Lowry


“Don’t let the sun fall from your fingertips.” The distant ticking vibrated against glass that shaped the walls of the confined, dreary room. The moon peaked below the velvety black canvas of the Heavens. God wasn’t out tonight.

“That makes absolutely no sense at all. It’s midnight.” Gentle giggling. A quiet voice arose from between the vanilla sheets. Like a subtle mouse, hidden, but made aware.

The night was silent with the exception of the rhythmatic ticking from the large oak clock that stood still in the corner. Did it move? I could swear, the oak shuttered and blinked, only to reappear unnerved.

“What do you mean Darling?” A gentle caress of her breath comforted my cheek, but only that cheek was soothed.

I stared upward throughout the glass ceiling, searching for something. I wasn’t sure at that moment what exactly I was looking for, but I knew that was.

I looked between the twinkling stars, sliding my eyes over the black sea and grasping onto the next smoldering bright light. I thrived to define their infinite details, but my blurred vision could only witness so much. Acid began to drip from my tear ducts and trickle down my cheek.

My eyes swiveled in their sockets as I looked from one star to the next, and then suddenly, embracing the flaming moon and all it’s beautiful characteristics, I looked back across the midnight velvet to another burning star. I squinted my aged eyelids and searched farther into the sky, deeper, harder. I was determined to find what I needed, what I had to have. I squinted harder, piercing through the atmosphere and all that the human eye could bare see. Farther and farther. I became, over those few moments, intimate with the sky, as I rummaged through her naked body, digging deeper and deeper, until... the throne was empty... I was correct as Ialwayss have been... God wasn’t here.

“Never let yourself forget who you truly are my Love.” I whispered dead words into the cold air. As I spoke, fog erupted from deep within my chest, kissed my lips, then swam away into the air before my sunken face. They danced with one another, the swirls and twirls. They clasped each other’s fingertips, held each other close, curtsied, and then departed from the other, leaving the air clear once more until I breathed again.

“Darling, go to sleep. You’re speaking mad tongues now. Your fever will never cool with that nonsense.” Love. My one and true love spoke with a motherly whisper that only I could sleep to.

“Breathing, I could feel her chest gently move up and down as the cold air swept to and fro. The cool vanilla bed sheets moved with her.

Rhythmically and soothingly, the comforting caress from her breath kissed my cheek as another tear welled, spilled, and fell. My eyes shut and the world stilled.

“Wait for my. Remember Love... my Sweet Love. I love you.” The fever broke.



The sun hugged my body as the clear clouds appeared with it, both rejoiced in the new, early dawn. Up. Up through the glass ceiling and into the becoming, significant sunrise, I gazed. For only a second, there was a moment, and then it disappeared.

As I looked about the room, I could recall the heaven that lay beyond the white clouds above, and farther into the universe lay, finally, the now occupied thrown. And my Love smiled, encased in her goddess wrappings and peculiar spectacles, she smiled. Her warming affection shot through the galaxy and pierced my heart as though I had first laid my eyes upon her fairness for the first moment.

It seemed as if time, itself, had frozen and all I could see were her lips, palest pink blended, move with a subtle grace and dignity. As her lips moved, instead of her melodic sweet voice and beauty enveloped into syllables, the ticking from the oak clock, in the corner of the room, instead, took it’s place. Rhythmically, the clock gages churned. Tick. Tick. Tick. Her lips continued to move, slowly and instinctively. Although I could hear only the ticking, I could feel, from the bottom of my toes to the top of my scalp, and, furthermore, deep within my heart, that her lips meant kindness and tranquillity. And tranquil I became.



I held her in my sight for as long as my mind could bare. Blink. Her face. Her throne. Heaven. The galaxy. The universe. The Earth. The sun. The clouds and, finally, I was back within my body. I had created knotted sheets and white knuckles. My God was gone. Beyond her kingdom and out of sight, I was left alone again. But only for the moment.


A smile spread about my aged lips and I fell into The Routine. My Routine.

Keeping my eyes upon the glassed ceiling and searching throughout the sky for my Love, I reached and grasped the tiniest of vials. My Love. My Love come back. I sipped. I sipped and I fell.

Never blinking, my eyes glazed over and a heat erupted from my inner core. My Love. Tick. Boiling heat. A fever. Tick. Tick. Blackness. Tick.

“Are you awake Dear? Rest.” Sweet breath. She lay next to my cool body again, underneath the vanilla sheets.


The author's comments:
This is about a man who thinks of his deceased lover as his Goddess. But the only way he could spend precious time with his only Love, was to inflict sickness and develop a fever, which produced hallucinations of her and their favorite moments, which consisted of being with one another. I really hope you all love this as much as my Mom does!

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