Whisper To Me Twice, A Lie.

Whisper To Me Twice, A Lie.

A Story by Abel Garcia

You and I have reached our peak. However, you shall continue on your path down from here, as I must leave you to it.


It was on such a simple afternoon that it happened. The wind was blowing at the same temperature as it always had during the winter, cold. He sat there; staring into space, thinking of what he had done wrong. Could it be so simple as to say, he had made a mistake? No, nothing in his life was ever ‘that simple’. Nothing in his poor existence could ever go correctly, as according to his plan and thoughts. He was an extraordinarily complex man. It was on such a day however, things had made an abysmal turn for the worse. He had lost his lover, his only being. Without her; he was nothing but a man in a shell full of hatred and greed, Full of earthly sorrows, enough to fill the world. There he sat, under the great oak tree he had grown up with as his lifelong companion.

            “Friend,” He said with a pause, “You and I have reached our peak. However, you shall continue on your path down from here, as I must leave you to it.”

            The gentle breeze brushed by the man, sliding his dark as night hair out of his eyes, giving him a clear view of the world. It was as if his forever loyal oak had given him a message.


            He laid his head back upon its roots, reminiscing in his past years he had given to her, granted her to keep. He silently prayed she would always remember him. Then he fell into a sleep, one of which he shall not awaken. As he slept, the tree’s leaves grew, quickly, as if to show the love the tree felt for its friend. The leaves fell upon him as he slept; Orange, Green, and full of love.


            She sat in her room, remembering all of the times that she had shared with him, the time they had given each other. She let out a long sigh and shed a tear, for she had realized the mistake that had been made upon the time. There was nothing left for her. Slowly she trudged down her stairs, marching along as the world sat in a grey, losing its color, losing its love. She walked slowly to her door, turning the handle just enough for the door to open, allowing her to walk outside. She walked along the old dirt pathway, taking her slowly to the house of her old lover. She walked up to his door and knocked thrice, ever so softly. No reply. So she knocked once more, this time harder with a less gentle tone. She broke down into tears.

            “He mustn’t love me.” She muttered out as she wept on his porch, “he must be through with my rubbish.”

            It was at this time that his door opened ever so slightly, slowly as if pushed by an elderly man. She entered into his home, the aura ever so cold. And she walked towards the end of his hallway, stopping before a grand clock, watching it with tears again returning to her eyes. The clock had stopped ticking, at exactly three past noon. This was only an hour beyond her leaving him.

            You see, the man was very simple about how he wished his devices to work, she had known this, however he believed otherwise. Each hour, he would walk into his hallway, and start his clock again, with the proper time. This was done so that he may remember to take a break each hour; he would hear the clock chime and rise, leaving his work, and go to reset it. It was seven hours past noon. She walked towards his garden, where he would sit under his tree and think. As she appeared before the tree, she saw him, and was again overcome with sadness. She fell beside him upon her knees; holding him gently, singing to him the song he loved so much.

            “Whisper to me my love, my true, Tell me a tale of sorrow you, Gave me a lie; to die, to die. But remember that you and I shall fly.” She sang to him as sweetly as she could before kissing his forehead and lying next to him. She too began to sleep. Leaving behind her own life, to stay in his.

© 2011 Abel Garcia

My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register

Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Added on September 20, 2011
Last Updated on September 20, 2011


Abel Garcia
Abel Garcia

Round Rock, TX

I am a Poet and Short Story writer from Austin, Tx. My writing is either A) Dedicated to somebody, and based upon a topic THEY will know. or B) The sad truths behind the world we live in, through my o.. more..

No Pain No Pain

A Poem by Abel Garcia