April 14, 1928
Belfast, Ireland

" Momma, I’m so hot, please momma….," the boys words drifted off, his head switching from side to side – eyes clenched shut as if try to escape a horrid memory from the inner depths of his soul. She tried to force a smile across her tired face for her son, all the while tears streamed down both cheeks uncontrollably.

"Ms. O’Malley," the Doctors words were quiet and full of concern.

A young woman of 25, carrying a burden such as this, a gravely ill son and husband, a pity, the doctor thought to himself.

She turned to the physician her beautiful face worn out; her long auburn hair pinned loosely on the top of her head, a few ringlets falling here and there.

" Timmy, " the doctor’s eyes so full of concern and pity for her. " Barring a miracle lassie, from the lord above, they are grave. They won’t make it much longer. The sickness is too far-gone. It’s a miracle you haven’t contracted it yet." his voice drifted from her mind. Miracle? She thought, a miracle that my son and husband are dying before my eyes and I am helpless to do anything, and more than that I am healthy and well? " No, no miracle Dr. Finagan, a curse from the farthest depths of hell." Her brown eyes red and swollen.

"If you need me, please call, don’t try to bear this all alone," a slight smile spread through her tears. She walked the man to the door. " Keep them comfortable, love, the pain medication should help, that’s all were left to now lass," with that he was gone. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. She found it an effort to walk, to breathe, to go on. The shawl she wore around her thin shoulders dropping to the floor as she walked into her child’s room. He was finally resting. She knelt by his bedside gently rubbing the sweat from his small forehead with a cool cloth. "Please God, please don’t take him, " the sobs came from depth within a part of her soul she did not know existed. Uncontrollably her body shook, as if in convulsions. She sat on bent knees for what seemed hours, praying to a God she did not know, praying for mercy for her child from anyone who would listen. A moan from her bedroom stirred, and she found the strength to pick herself up and walk to her husband. So beautiful – even now. His red locks longer than usual, he had the most beautiful green eyes, almost the color of a stunning evergreen, they were filled with such confusion and pain now, their true beauty hidden deep within. " My love," She whispered. Corey had been her one true love since she was just a wee girl, no more than 14. Marcus and Corey were her life. Without them, she would not go on. Would not even try. " Sleep in another room Timken, do not sleep in the same bed as them, you have not contracted this so far, you must stay well for them," the doctors words replaying in her mind like a tape recording being rewound and played. Even when Corey saw her, he didn’t truly see her; the sickness had effected his mind to the point of almost madness and utter confusion. She walked closer to the bed, no thought was needed. She climbed into the bed that he had made for them as a wedding gift and held her husband in her arms. She was so tired and drifted.

" MOMMY" a cry so shrill it tore at her being. She sat upright in the bed and turned to her husband, she kissed his lips and was frozen. " NO, NO," the tears streamed, just when she thought her eyes were barren and couldn’t cry anymore.

"NO please god no, Corey, please" he was cool to the touch, where the fever had once been. He was gone. She held him in her arms and sobbed. "MOMMA<" Marcus, she thought, she covered her husband unconsciously, kissed him one last time and went to her son. Be strong for him, you must, she told herself.

"It’s ok, sweetie," his eyes too seemed to be filled with delirium. But he knew her today. He actually knew her. "Momma, who was that man," he asked, eyes closing.

"Dr. Finnegan, love, he’s caring for you while your sick." Somehow she managed a smile for the child.

"No Momma, there was another man here, in my room, he had on black and he had long hair…" he drifted, slipping once again into confusion.

A man?? No, it has to be the sickness, she told herself.

" He said he was an angel Momma, he said he was an angel….." with that he to passed. A slight sigh escaping his tender lips. An angel?? She thought of her son’s words. He looked so peacefully finally. Kneeling she laid her head on her sons bed and cried until she fell asleep. Darkness had fallen when she woke and she looked around the dark room as if trying to determine if losing both her child and husband at once was a nightmare or truth. The vision of her son lying still in his bed answered the question for her. She lightly kissed the child’s forehead and walked out onto the porch of her home. The wind was cold coming from the water nearby. Leaving the door open she walked then ran, until her legs would take her no further. She collapsed by the riverbed near her house, sobbing.

"WHY??" She screamed from the pit of her soul. "Why? You are a God of mercy a God of love? I curse you this night and I call for death!!!" She screamed at the night sky, mud covering her dress and hands. " Have I not been a good servant? Have I not worshipped properly, have I not raised my child in your ways??" Her screams grew louder with her anger as it raged through her. " I beg for death my lord, I beg you , I beg you. I open the invitation to anyone….." Her head sagging on her shoulders, her words drifted as the moans and sobs came again.

" I am not the one you speak of my beauty, but I hear your cries and see your pain. " A mans voice replied. She turned her head slowly to look at the stranger, no fear in her eyes.

My you are quite beautiful," he squatted by her pulling a crisp white handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiping streaks of mud from her cheeks.

" You’re the man in the park, the one I sketched, what are you doing here?" confusion spread through her eyes.

" I am answering you’re invitation, my sweet." A smile spreading across his lips. She couldn’t stop staring at this man. He was mesmerizing. His eyes the clearest of blue, his face exquisite.

" You were in my son’s room," it was more of an answer than a question.

" Yes, I only wish I could have helped the child." His eyes never straying from hers. She sat there on the riverbed, in the mud, starring at this stranger. Not aware of how he would alter her life forever.

" You ask for death, did you not, my dear? I am offering you a chance to ease all your sorrow and pain, I offer you a life after death so to speak," He said calmly.

" Please I pray to God above for mercy, to die. May he send his angel of death to collect me in hie arms, I long for it so." She said in almost a whisper.

"I am not an angel, love, but can offer you death."

"Please my friend please…" He kissed her softly on the lips.

The pain in her neck was excruciating. Her eyes opened wide her mouth in the form of a scream but no words seeped out into the cool air. She couldn’t breathe, she felt like a weight was upon her chest and crushing it.

" All by myself I have to go, with noone to tell me what to do

All alone beside the streams and up the mountainsides of dreams"

The nursery rhyme she’d repeat mundanely to her son playing through her mind as the pain grew unbearable.

"The strangest things are there for me, both things to eat and things to see

And many frightening sights abroad till morning in the land of nod"

Her body paralyzed, she could not move, her eyes saw this stranger lift his head from her neck. " Now my dear you must listen to me, you must drink from my blood as I have taken all yours, " he said calmly. He pierced his wrist holding it to her lips. It seared through her mouth into the pit of her stomach. It repulsed her but she yearned for it, more than anything.

" Very good my dear," He said soothingly stroking her long locks. She looked at him with horror so vivid in her eyes. He pulled her now blood stained lips from his wrist. He gathered her in his arms and began to quickly carry her away.

" Try as I like to find the way," the rhyme flooding her brain as she lay paralyzed in his arms.

"I can never go back to day.

Nor can remember plain and clear

The curious music that I hear."