A Single Moment

Emma sat at the window, her gaze fixed on the falling rain outside, motionless. Her green eyes reflected the grey-green darkness of the world outside, as she lost herself in thought, numb to all her senses. I saw her shiver, but she seemed not to notice the cold. She was right in front of me, and yet she was too far away. I watched as the first tear rolled down her face, and then the second. She trembled and yet, her gaze never shifted. She made no move to get warm, none to stop her trembling, and none to wipe her tears away. I understood. This was my fault.

My name is Emily Baron. Emma is my sister. Or perhaps, ‘was’ would be the apt word now. I’m not there anymore. Emma doesn’t have a sister anymore. And it’s my fault. You see, I was scared, I was just plain petrified of life, and so, I found a way out. Except, I didn’t think about Emma, nor did I think about Mum and Dad. I just wanted to take the fear away, that pain of feeling so alone. I was sick of being told I wasn’t good enough. My parents wouldn’t say it, but I know they wished I’d take more interest in my studies. Emma has always loved studying, but me; it’s never been my cup of tea. My teachers took joy in making me miserable. No grade I got would ever be enough because Emma would always have done better. It amused me how Emma always thought I was unaffected. She told me once that she admired my nerve to stand up so defiantly every hour, to each new teacher, listening to the same speech and come away smiling.

But I wasn’t smiling. I honestly didn’t know how to tell them how lost I was. I’d heard enough of their speeches to be numb to them. I wanted desperately to become better. I read incessantly, I wrote and rewrote my assignments, till my fingers were sore and calluses had formed where I held my pen too tight, for too long. It wasn’t Emma’s fault. She had an eidetic memory, that is, she could remember everything she read, word for word, after having read it only once. That’s not something anyone should have to compete against. Emma always told me to do my best and leave whatever happens to happen. She was never the kind of big sister to rub in her brilliance. In fact, I loved her all the more for her humility and her willingness to help me. But it just wasn’t enough. I couldn’t understand like she did. I just wasn’t good enough. I never would have been.

So, last year, on the 10^th of August, I put an end to it. It was just after our end of semester exams and I really didn’t feel too confident. I’d been moody all week and my day really hadn’t gone well. Emma had come home for the weekend from college, upset about the dorm rooms being full of girls who cared about nothing but their hair and make-up and had no sense of personal space or respect for others’ belongings. But I didn’t have the patience to listen to her rant about it. She’d meant it as a joke when she said, “You’re always in your head. When are you going to think about someone else?” But that wasn’t the moment for those words. Before I knew what I was doing, I lost my temper at her. I threw my backpack at her, ran upstairs to my room and slammed my door. Hard. She came up after me, apologising, even though she didn’t have to.

All I wanted to do was shut her out, shut out the world, shut out the voice in my head telling me I would never be good enough; that there was no point in my existence, shut out all those comparisons with everything I’m supposed to be, everything I could be, but am not.

            I broke down, my head throbbed. The voice in my head kept telling me I wasn’t good for anything. It told me I was a mistake, one not worth keeping, not worth having around, a mere burden and embarrassment. It echoed in my ears. Over and over again. I couldn’t make it stop. I tried to sleep it off, but I couldn’t. I stumbled into the bathroom, drenched in sweat, my face stained with dry tears, to find the medicine cabinet. Maybe something in there would help. Mum had been prescribed sleeping pills last week; I thought I’d just take one.

            One didn’t help, nor did two. I don’t remember how many I took. The pain stopped as I fell asleep. But, I never woke up. At least, not in the sense that people normally do. I woke up to the sound of sirens, and watched as Mum, Dad and Emma rushed into the ER behind the medics who were frantically trying to revive me, in vain. I watched Mum break down into pieces as the doctor from the ER told her there was nothing he could do; I was gone.

            I hadn’t meant to. But it seemed like I’d found peace. I hadn’t. It took mere seconds for my heart to break watching Dad struggle to hold tears back as Mum and Emma held each other and wept in the waiting room, wishing it wasn’t true; wishing, hoping, praying that I’d wake up, that the doctor would come back saying it had been a mistake, that I’d woken up, that I would be alright. But he didn’t.

I’d never known how strong Dad was till I watched him go through all the paper work the hospital had him fill out, without a flinch. He went through all the questions stone faced. I couldn’t read him. And then they let him into the room where my body was. He was in shambles before he entered, crying his heart out. It was then that I realised that Dad was always there for me. I wanted so much to tell him I was there, but I knew it wouldn’t help. I’d been his special helper, his baby girl. What had I done?

My pain had been gone for a little while now, but as I watched my family, a new pain seared through my being, whatever I am now. A spirit? A presence? I don’t know what I’m supposed to be called. All I know is that my peace, or what I thought was peace, is non-existent. I live, if you can call this semi-existence ‘living’, in constant regret and guilt. In my naivety, I’d torn four lives apart. And all it took was a moment. Unintentional as it was, it could not be fixed. I couldn’t watch them anymore; it hurt too much to see their pain.

That voice I’d heard, it comes back every now and again, reminding me how Emma at the window now, trembling in the cold, unmoving, was my fault. It’s been a year today. I thought she was doing better, until today I found her sitting by the window. Mum and Dad are at my grave, but I don’t like the cemetery. I’m alone where I am now. No one to talk to, no one to listen to. I need no sleep and time is irrelevant, but I spend it all with Emma. I know I can’t do anything to help her. I can’t tell her I’m in a better place, or ask her to let go and be happy. Mum and Dad are doing better, Emma’s the one I hurt the most. She blames herself. I wish I could tell her it’s not her fault. Mum’s tried a million times, and she says she knows, but if you saw her today, like I do, you’d read it in her eyes.

If I had a moment, a single moment to change, it would be my last minutes with Emma. I’d hug her, listen patiently, and tell her that I loved her and that she had been the best sister anyone could ever hope for. Unfortunately, life was a lifetime ago, and it has never been known for its generosity in second chances. I just hope someday Emma finds her peace. She knows I’m sorry, but I wish I could tell her.

Lost In Translation

Okay, so here it is. LOST IN TRANSLATION. Do me a favour and open this link, let the track start and then read through the story, 'cause it really isn't complete without the background. Preferably plug your earphones in!

Sometimes a story is but a reflection of your own life; other times, it’s the thoughts that you have; but most often it’s your thoughts mixed with those stories you’ve heard time and again but you still can’t make sense of.

...................................................................................................................................................................

“Won’t you come sit with me for a while?”

“But I am. I’m sitting right here.”

“Well, that’s the irony of us. You’re sitting right here with me in the room, but your head most certainly isn’t here. You work too much.”

“I’m being productive. I’m listening to you aren’t I?

“Yeah, you are. But do you hear the rain?”

“The rain? Are you sure you didn’t hit your head this morning when you got out of bed?”

“Can you hear the fire?”

“The fire now? Are you okay?”

“Come sit here, on the window seat; just listen. Leave those papers and your muddled thoughts there.”

“What are you on about?”

“Just humour me for a few minutes.”

“But I’ve really got to finish this up. How come you don’t have any work?”

“I’ll get around to it. It’s mulling quietly in my brain. I always get my work done, don’t I?

“You know, that annoys me. You don’t stress half as much as I do and you still do just as well as if not better. When do you even work?”

“That’s because I know when to sit down and focus and not to let things stress me out all the time. Try my way for a change. It’s not as if you’re getting any work done anyway. I’m pretty sure all that ruffling I’ve been hearing is just you getting flustered more than anything else.”

“Fine. Tell me what you want to say. Out with it.”

“Who said I want to say anything?”

“Then what are you fussing about?!”

“I just want you to listen. Take a breath and just listen.”

“But if you’re not going to be talking, then what’s the point of listening?”

“Shush now. Close your eyes.”

“Okay, now I’m blind and listening to you not talking.”

“You still don’t get the point. Do you even realize it’s raining outside?”

“Yeah, so? What’s the big deal?”

“Did you realize I’ve had the fireplace lit for the past hour?”

“Now what does the fireplace have to do anything?”

“And that tells me you haven’t heard a word I’ve said. Try and listen to it, not just faintly realize that there’s music playing and leave the noises beyond human voices at that.”

“But what am I even listening to?”

“You’re not listening yet. When you hear it, you’ll tell me.”

“But…”

“Shush… Listen to the sound of silence as you see it.”

“Listen to each drop that hits the window sill, the ones that touch the glass – each flicker of the flame because of the wind stealing down the chimney and the burst of the wood as it’s consumed.”

“Umm, are you still awake?”

“I’m not quite sure if it was your poetry or the rain that took me away.”

“Hah! I’m pretty sure it wasn’t my talking. What did you hear?”

“Everything. The wind chimes next door even. The rain is gorgeous to listen to. And the fire just enhances it. It’s like they’re all playing to one rhythm.”

“Well, they are. It’s not just all chaos you know. You’d think a storm would be chaotic to listen to, but even then, there’s an orchestra in the wind. It’s amazing isn’t it?”

“I must admit, I do feel more relaxed than I have in the past half an hour I’ve spent with those papers not getting anywhere.”

“You really ought to give yourself a break sometimes. The sound of silence tends to take you out of your mind at least for some time; or at least gives you an illusion of getting you out of it.”

“I guess I really need to stop and listen sometimes. How come none of this registers in my brain otherwise?”

“It’s not that it doesn’t register, it’s just that we don’t prioritize. Most often, such beauty is overlooked just because it’s lost in translation.”

“Lost in translation?”

“We judge based on an idea of it that we have. Take the rain. The first things most people think of are how wet it’s going to be and how disruptive it may be or they’re a little more on the romantic side, then how it just makes everything prettier and lovelier. But the sound of the rain; that music.”

“I see now. Interesting. How much do we really lose in translation?”

Monday! Monday? Monday... Didn't seem like it :D

So, today I spent the day with two awesome people! I always feel smarter in some way or the other when I've spent the day with them and mostly I learn something new about music :D I honestly have absolutely no bloomin' clue as to how they put up with someone as uninformed as I am. Trust me, if my life were a movie, them and me would not be in the same clique :| It just wouldn't be done! But guess what!? We're not in a movie and I have to thank that incredible, wonderful, indescribable God who blessed me with friends like these :D Seriously, there's no one like HIM <3 ^.^ If you knew them like I do, you'd be insanely thankful too. Trust me on that.

     Hmmm... But there was one piece of wisdom they stumbled me across today that cannot compare to anything else and said "wisdom", trust me, was not their's. It comes from a great American mind by the name of Rebecca Black who seems to think many ought to have fallen at her feet in worship when her song "Friday" was released. Yeah, fat chance of me linking you to that, I will not obligingly enforce torture of such propensity on my kind readers. :D But this new information that brought me to tears, I must share. She analysed her lyrics so that the world could see how much they missed out on when they refused to accept her music as a 'work of art' or something like that. (CAUTION: Watch at own risk.)

     After the song came out, there were so many people talking about it, but me, being me, never bothered to look it up because pop culture, being pop culture, would manage its way into my life at some point >.< And boy, was I glad I didn't. But this analysis was mind-blowing. Much applause to the 'superior intellect' of Ms. Black. Really, what would the world be without her. (*whispers under breath, "MUCH BETTER")

     Sigh! Hmm... I think I got that out of my system now. Hopefully. Blah! Seriously, if you're not as moved as I was. TO PUNCH HER FACE IN. Then do let me know. I would like some of whatever you've been taking to ease your sharp senses. Or maybe you should let her know so she can pretend someone believes her words.

     Okay okay, moving on!

     THE WOMAN IN BLACK. Now, that's something to talk about. I have no clue how to feel about the movie. You know how when you watch a movie and you want the best for the 'hero'? Umm, well, I just didn't know how to size up what happens! Lol! Seriously, it's incredible though. The minimal soundscape, the videography of the English lanscape, the spooky house, the effects, the story... EVERYTHING worked. It works to creep you out slowly and take you level by level into the creepiness. It makes you jump. Makes you want to cry and say, "No, no, no, no, come on, don't let him die! Don't kill him! Let him save her!! Please!" Although, you never really know whom you're pleading to, nor do you know if you actually feel like you're there because you keep reminding yourself its a movie. Hmm, I agree with the three who insisted me watching it :D Although I must say it was quite amusing hearing stories of how they'd watched it their first times :P But, what happened to the dog!! It disappeared :( I think my biggest fear was that the dog would show up mutilated to bits :| Not a pleasant thought, trust me!

Meh -.- I talk to much... Hmm, I'm good, thanks for asking! Have fun with the rest of your day! <3

Torn Between Two Cities.

Heart-broken she watched them walk away - her family, her friends and him - the one who held her heart. Every step shattered the already broken heart into pieces so tiny she felt it would never be whole again. The train moved further away and he looked back to see her standing at the door. She held back the tears that wanted to flow and met his blue eyes. He smiled at her, and mouthed the words, 'You'll be alright'. She knew he meant it. She sighed, told herself that six months would fly by and she would be home soon. She smiled a smile that just about reached her hazel eyes to her dear ones and took her seat near the window to watch them turn into mere silhouettes in the moonlight of the poorly lit railway station, soon to disappear.

She could hold it in no longer. She couldn’t comprehend why she meant so much to each of them but she could state so many reasons as to why each one meant so much to her. The tears fell… people stared but she ignored them. None of it mattered. She had to let it out.

Every thought made her smile and cry. She had no clue what to do. And he called, “I know you’re crying… and I’m not going to tell you to stop. Let it out and then call me back.”

“Don’t hang up. I don’t like feeling so alone. So lost.”

“Love, you’ve got my heart. You can never be alone and God will watch over you. It was hard for me to hear you say you’d go so far away to study but He helped me through that and He’ll help you through this. You told me that He’s leading you. So take it in stride and I’ll come visit you soon.”

“You’re coming? When? How did that happen?”

“Your parents thought it would make you feel better about going away so suddenly if, once you had a chance to cry it out a bit, you knew that we’d come to see you and what you’re up to. They invited me along. I’ll see you in a month’s time. Look forward to that and smile the smile that brings so much joy to the world.”

“Well, I’m smiling a bit. But I don’t think I’ll ever be able to smile joyously with those I love so far away.”

“We’re right there with you. You know each one of us so well. You know exactly how each of us would react to what you say and do. True, we’re not with you to hold your hand. But know that God has us all safe in His arms. You’re in good hands my love. There’re none better.”

“I’ll remember. Remember all that God has blessed me with. I’ll remember that, though I don’t feel strong, He’s there to give me strength. Though I don’t know what I’m doing, He knows every step I take and will protect me. He’ll keep you safe as well and my parents and everyone else and he won’t let me forget where all my blessings come from.”

“But what if I don’t succeed? What if everything goes wrong? What if I can never come back? What if they hate me there? What if I can’t match their talents?”

“You didn’t choose this on your own, you were led. I was with you when you prayed. I prayed with you. God works for good always. I know you. It will be hard for you. But you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. You've asked for this opportunity to be taken away if it wasn’t for you. But that’s exactly what you've been given. You’ve asked that God leads you through everything. Don’t worry. He will. Never forget that He loves you and always wants what is best for you and nothing less.”

"I know. But I’m so scared. How am I still in such doubt? I want to believe. I don’t know what to do. I’ve barely left home and I really want to come back, I won’t be able handle the work. I feel like I’m about to drop out right now.”

“There’s no chance of that happening. You’re too stubborn for it. I know you feel lost… but where you’ll go, He knows. He’s going to hold your hand right through it. Look to Him for guidance through everything. Be yourself and love like you always do. Your smile can light up a room with its innocence and honesty.”

“But I’m scared I’ll change. You know how gullible I am. You know how much I yearn to belong.”

“But I also know how much you dislike doing things just because everyone else does them. You’ve got great instincts. Listen to them. I’ll call you every day and you can talk to me always.”

“I love you always. Hearing your voice makes me feel safe again. You’re right. I’ll be back soon. It’ll take time to adjust but I will. And don’t miss me too much. You may be the stronger of the two of us but I know you’re just like me when it comes to feeling lonely. I’ll see you soon and I’ll always keep your heart safe. We may be torn between two cities but we’ll always be one.”

“Get some sleep and rest. There’s a new world waiting to see you and what you can do when you believe in yourself and trust in God. I love you. The Lord bless you and keep you and make His face shine upon you. Keep smiling, ‘kay?”

“I’ll call you when I get there.”

The call having ended, she looked out into the midnight sky with the crescent moon peeping through soft clouds, she told herself, she’d be strong and decisive in everything. A new life would not make her forget the old. She would still hold dear what she had now and she’d trust in God to show her through everything and lead her to what it was she was meant to do.