Long Gone

• Mikayla Graham, Grade 10, Woolooware High School
• Short Story
• 2015

Excellence Award in the 'Read Write Repeat 2015' competition

Sitting there with his legs dangling over the side of a brick bridge, the old man shook his head slowly trying to forget the painful memories clearly etched in his mind. He was tired of feeling lonely and hopeless. Jack Daniels, his friend, would help erase the pain. Slowly, the man took long sips from the bottle held in his hand and quickly, he became numb. Not just from the whisky but also from the bitter, below zero temperatures of the night.
It was evident to see that this man was completely over the “aging gracefully” phase of life. When he was younger, he had imagined a joyous life full of happy occasions and memories. He thought he would feel young and free forever, residing happily in the countryside with nature surrounding him. He thought happiness was untouchable. However, as the man grew older, he discovered what his life would become. Disappointment was experienced on many occasions. Heartbreak became constant after the love of his life slipped through his fingertips. Before he knew it, close friends, family members and acquaintances disappeared like clouds.
He was a desolate man wanting an escape. Euphoria consumed him as the bottle was emptied. Looking up at the starry night sky, the man began to see crisp shades of green and a bright blue sky. Shades of green slowly formed an outline of rolling green hills with daisies, just like the ones from his childhood. Sniffing the air, he swore he could smell the sweet scent of the flowers and the fresh earth. He longed to experience these simple pleasures once more.
Gulping down a mouthful of whisky, the colours became more vibrant and the scent of his youth more potent, bringing back memories of climbing trees and rolling down hills until he was tired. Daniels was taking an effect on him causing familiar and marvellous hallucinations.
The man heard a twittering sound. He looked around but saw nothing. As he leaned forward and gazed into the water, a beautiful bird appeared in the shadows. It was a nightingale, a bird he had admired for its beauty and immortality. No matter where his life went, nightingales were there mocking him over the life he wanted but could never have.
The nightingale looked the old man straight in the eyes as if to say, “I’m happy, something that you’ll never be.” The man blinked. The bird in his imagination dove straight down into the water. He leaned forward promptly to take one last glimpse of the bird but in his drunken state, fell from the bridge into the icy water below.
A splash could be heard but to the man, the water engulfing him was just silence. The hallucinations of the picturesque countryside had vanished, the smell of nature was gone and the bird that taunted him for years had finally left him alone. It was dark. The drunken man sank, the feeling of numbness consuming his soul. The man was not immortal. He was gone.