Writer's Challenge 5 - Death and Dying

Death is a subject that is rarely touched upon in these sorts of workshops, but given the fact that it is something that no-one can escape in society, it should be. No matter what the culture there are always rituals and particular colours and symbols that are associated with death.

People deal with the death of a loved one in different ways. Not everyone screams, howls and cries that well worn "Nooo!".

The object of this rather more sombre writer's challenge is to write a short scene that is concerned with death or dying. You can write it from any perspective and in any era. Try to incorporate the way that you felt when someone died, or the way that you think a character would deal with death (yes, if appropriate you can include that "nooo!").

Kithera

P.S: There is no reason for this topic other then I've wanted to do it for a while.

Want more challenges? Click here for Challenge 4

Here for Challenge six

 

This sounds interesting. I'll try to think up something for it.

 

So is this about the actual death, or more relating to how other characters deal with it after the fact?

-tim

 

Ahah, but she just said death. She didn't say what kind of death. And yes, that is just my way of tiptoeing around a subject I hate. Grrr. No more death viggies!

I shall do my best...

 

EmilieDarklighter: Kit' is a she, actually...

Ah, this could be a good one. I'm in (since I've now contributed to all the previous challenges, save the "Talk Like a Pirate Day" contest - and I'm still mad I missed that one). Now to pick the ideal characters...

 

I just saw this... and came up with something on the spur of the moment. Lady Inspiration Struck




EVEN IN DEATH

A faint streak of sunlight lit up the sky, tinting the window panes of the small house in gold. The freshly white washed walls and carefully planted rose beds glimmered with the remains of a freshly fallen rain shower. Merena didn't care. The short, brown haired woman sat in her wicker chair and stared ahead into space. She didn't see the delicate Terisan trees shimmering with the light and water. Nor did she see the cloud streaked sky turn from blue, to yellow, to gold, to red, to purple. Yesterday, she would have spent the dusk time watching Nature's bounty unfold. Now she just sat listlessly in his favorite chair. He. Her only.

Tears glimmered down her cheeks, remembering his warm laugh, and the way his clear brown eyes sparkled when he looked at her. She could almost feel his rough callused hands stroking her back as they sat together on this very chair. Could almost feel his breath on her ear as he held her from behind, nestling her safely on his lap.

?Mistress Merena? The evening meal has been served.? The soft spoken, silver protocol droid quietly appeared next to her. What did she care about food? When he was gone?

?Thank you? Part of her forced her to go through the rituals of the living. Forced her to eat, to sleep, to drink. But she didn't want to. She wanted to join him there, where ever he was. The images of his death haunted her. Twelve hours ago, she learned of his death. Somehow she forced herself to walk to the table. Sit down. Put the food in her mouth. Eat. Twelve hours and thirty minutes now.

With a smile she answered. It would be Qui-gon calling her to let her know he was alright. But instead of his face, she was his apprentice's face. Obi-wan? Yes that was his name. Obi-wan Kenobi.

?Obi-wan? What may I do for you??

?Mistress Merena??

?Yes.? She was confused. Where was Qui-gon?

?I have some... troubling news.?

?Is everything alright with Qui-gon?? The sadness in the young man's eyes told her everything she needed to know. Closing her eyes she tried to keep her tears from showing. Tried to keep them from falling. But the soft words would haunt her forever.

?I'm terribly sorry. But your brother, my Master, has died.? Who would look out for her now? Since she'd gone mad as those at the Temple said, she'd not been allowed back into the Order. But Qui-gon had always stood by here. And now this.

With a mind of their own, her feet took her into her bedroom, and soon her hand found the hidden compartment of in her dresser. The small box, black inlaid with a silvery blue, was still in there. As it should be. Carefully she withdrew it, put it down onto her bed. Hands trembling, she opened it, and for a long time stared down at the silver tube of her new lightsaber. Qui-gon had helped her build it, three years ago. Not once had she tested it. Never had its blade gleamed. She didn't even know what color it was.

Don't Mera. There is still too much left to live for. Jumping at the quiet sound of his voice she dropped it. Turning she caught sight of the shimmering figure.

?I can't Qui. I'm not strong enough.? A laughing smile spread over his features.

You're stronger than you think you are. Take care little sister. And may the force always be with you. And he was gone again. Gone just as fast as he'd come. The dead weight which was her heart suddenly became heavier to bear. But he'd asked her not to use this. And so she wouldn't. But thinking about all the years ahead of her, years spent without hearing his teasing voice, years without once feeling his reassuring arms around her, she fell to her knees and wept bitter tears of loneliness, praying death would be kind and claim her soon. If only she could disregard one of her brother's requests this once. Only once. Even in death she cared about his feelings, when he couldnt' feel anymore.



******

don't shoot me please It's the first time I venture in

 

Ooh, that was nice, Calandria. Interesting choice to make the sister a Jedi, too... (unless I was reading that wrong; she did have lightsabers).

 

unless I was reading that wrong; she did have lightsabers


nope you weren't reading it wrong. I was just having some fun with characters.

 

Well, it was very nice, and I enjoyed reading it. Thanks for posting.

Ooh, I've got the perfect scene! Give me a little while to work on it, and I'll have it up.

 

Thanks (I'm a feedback junky )

 

You mean there are people around here who aren't?


If we're playing with peripheral characters here... Oooo, I've got one now. This'll be fun.

 

You mean there are people around here who aren't?

ummmmm not that I know of.


I love these challenges... can't wait to see how you guys deal with it

 

*smacks forehead* I know that. My finger must've slipped on the keyboard. I didn't know it said that.

 

I hope we can use peripheral characters... I'm going to be working with a giant bunch of O/Cs (and a few canon Jedi).

I'm trying to work it out just right... I've actually been planning it for a while. (My original intent was to post it in Latin, just for the two or so other people on this forum who know it, and then a translation for everyone else, but that fell through... I may still stick a few Latin phrases in there.)

 

It can be about anything really as long as it concerns death. So the point of view of the person dying is good, the reactions are good, the funery (sp - it's early in the morning) rites are good too.

Kithera

 

Does it have to be a person who dies?

 

Nope. Pets, animals, even butterflies are fine.

Kithera

 

Would a piece that incorporates little glimpses of the death, the reaction, and the funeral rites suffice?

 

Hmmmm... I don't know. This excercise is primarily about death and dying.....

Remember too that these are supposed to be original works and not reposts from already written stories.

Kithera

 

No, no, I mean writing these clips to go together as a new piece. Nobody's seen this character's death yet.

 

I suppose so.

Kithera

 

Ok, this is my first story post ever....so PLEASE be gentle.


The Loss, and Regaining, of Innocence

Corran didn?t know what to say. The somber expression coming from that face was eating away at him and he could feel his heart melting. A tear rolled down a cheek, no not tears, he could never resist tears. What made matters worse was the all-encompassing anguish he could feel coming off such a small body. If he didn?t do something soon, he would be labeled a heartless basted.

Earlier that day
The family had gone through all the traditional rituals. He had carefully wrapped the body in red, the traditional Corillain color for the dead and mourning. Then he?d gotten all the Rouges to hold a funeral service in the briefing room. Everyone had gathered around the body to recite all their fond memories. Unfortunately most of Rouge squadron had only second hand knowledge of the dearly departed and so a few, namely Wes and Hobbie, made up memories. If his son hadn?t been there, Corran was sure the mourners would have quickly lost their doleful expressions and give into a fit of the giggles.

After the service the band of mourners, some still trying to cover up their snickers, made their way to the funeral pyre. Having been carefully constructed out of highly flammable material on a flame-retardant surface, the deceased was laid upon it and then lit on fire. In Corallian tradition the family must stay and watch till every last ember has gone out, but friend are allowed to leave one by one. Only the Rouges decided to get the wake started early and all left together. Thankfully the fire only lasted 30 minutes and he quickly shuttled his family home.

But this left him in his present circumstance. ?Valin, please don?t cry.?

?But dad,? was all Corran?s son got out before succumbing to convulsing sobs.

Just then he heard the door to their quarters open and he saw his wife come in with a small box. Turning back to his son he tried to inject as much sincerity and empathy as he could into his voice. ?Now Valin, I know how much she meant to you and I know no other derbit will ever replace Kenzi, but?? Motioning for Marix to bring the box closer he continued. ?But your mother and I want you to have this.?

Marix set the now open box down if front of her son. Peeking over the edge Corran could see that it was another derbit. I fact it look almost the same as the last one, just a little bigger. Maybe he and Marix should just have said that Kenzi grew some overnight. However it looked like they didn?t need to convince that this rodent would be less then the last one. Valin had already taken the new pet out of the box and but it on his shoulder. All traces of tears were gone except for a still red and runny nose and he skipped off to his room.

Sigh, Corran turned to his wife and said, ?Good call with the replacement pet.?

?Thanks, but what you should have said was, ?Good thing four year olds have short attention spans.??
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I know its probably cliché, but this was the first thing I thought of when I read you could use pet deaths. If anyone is good with Wes and Hobbie, I?d love to read what their ?memories? would have been. Hehe

 

Ah yes. The pain of losing a pet... I remember several graves in my backyard.

Pretty good for a first post ever (beats mine by far )

 

Thanks

Now if I could just break away from the fan boards to finish some of my other stories.

 

I'm going to try and write something for this. Great idea, Kit.