On the Either Side of the Page

4. Faye

A warm shower after a windy and cold day fails to relax none. My stress had washed away and now, I could, at least for a while, be free from the haunting thoughts of my medical condition, aphasia—a handicap for my life, now. However, the desperation to have a conversation had somehow reduced with getting the new diary. I surely considered it a blessing from our divine river, Haya.

I took the diary from my nightstand to jot down something about my day that had already started off late with me sleeping for a couple more hours after the breakfast from laze. But, just when the nib touched the page, frustration started piling up in me. I just couldn’t make myself to put words in any meaningful way should it sound appropriate—or even a normal sentence.

Why? Why was it always me? My eyes blurred as my grip tightened around the bunch of welded pages I was holding. As I was about to send it flying across the pale hospital room I was in, the door slid open, making me stop right in my tracks.

Ivy. My childhood bestie. With June, my dachshund, in her arms.

I smiled almost immediately.

Hours had passed away listening to her amusing tales. Episodes of her daily life, as she narrated with full spirit, gave me a glimpse of how I wanted my life to be like. I wasn’t envious; it rather gave me hope. Her eyes widening at every mention of how she ended up getting 'settled' in her nomadic life. She loved travelling. We were meeting after a whole year, and I was just as keen to know the changes she had had. From a pair of glasses to getting her brown hair chopped to her chin-length, everything about her was new, except the scent she had. The fresh strawberries we had spent our childhood picking.

I would give a nod or so everywhile  she glanced up to me, patting June who now was asleep after having played with me for sometime. But I was certain her ears heard every single word that rolled off our tongues. My occasional “yes” and “no’s” didn’t seem to affect Ivy’s flow, for which I was thankful enough. She always made me feel at ease; at home.

“So, Faye,” she said, looking outside, probably noticing the darkness that had engulfed the sky. It was night but we had had some snacks she had brought, so none of us were hungry. But she definitely was late.

I gave her hand a squeeze before we exchanged smiles.

“Go.” I struggled finding the right words. “I am…fine.” She nodded at me as she stood up.

“Here,” she said, handing me an envelope. “Open this once I’m gone. And please, Faye, just think over it once.”

Her pleading eyes told me what probably lay inside the envelope. She wanted me to go to Norway with her. Even after a continual denial over the last few months of her insisting, she did it again. And this time in person, with those huge eyes of hers that she very well knew I couldn’t refuse to.

I sighed and she knew that I knew.

“Well then, Faye darling, catch you later!” She waved, arranging her sling bag and June’s leash. I brushed my hand on my pet. “Sometimes it’s good to forget! My Mom told me, after she got her amnesia treated.” Ivy's voice echoed through the corridor and before I could hear anything else I had to shut the door, to simply prevent the cold winds.

I giggled and then, my gaze landed on my bed. The envelope. I went near it, and opened it.

Evander Gems! I grinned from ear to ear. It was his poster! My favourite singer. He had the smoothest and huskiest voice ever and he simply was flawless in everything he did. His music would keep me going in my worst days; it would give power to face the world. I desperately wanted to meet him. To see him. Just once. And Ivy knew it, too. And so, there were two tickets to Norway. He lived there.

Well, I would have jumped and cried and screamed on top of my lungs and buried my face in the pillow until the excitement had drained. But it was different now. My life had been turned completely upside down. Earlier, I thought that would be a waste of time and now, I just could not think of it at all. Now, I regretted, refusing to Ivy’s previous requests for a Norway trip.

She was right. It’s not always a bad idea to choose to not focus on the world but rather yourself.

And so, this time more determined, I took my diary in my hands. I would write. Write anything that would come to my mind, only if anything would. But I should never stop; never quit. I had so much to do, but here I was, lying blindfolded by this inability of mine to put out my thoughts on show. I needed them. And I knew I could call them out anytime I wanted. My mind and soul hardened more as I realised that I would lose my heart if I stopped writing. I loved it! And I’d change my life—that was for sure.

Suddenly, I grew passionate. Maybe, because in some corner of my mind I was well aware of the fact that if I didn’t do anything not only about my condition but my father’s life, too, he’d leave me just like my mother did. And he was my only family. I couldn’t lose him.

Wiping off some of my treacherous tears, I turned the pages and grabbed my pen, only to be stunned by an awkward handwriting welcoming me.

 “Agshsvgyvsbbzbvacvvbzbzb...hey”

It was scribbled all over. But the strokes seemed unintentional and more absentmindedly done. Had someone seen my diary in my absence? But I was in the room all the time. Perhaps, the nurses or someone. But who? And why’d they do it? I barely had written anything.

However, that night I decided to have an eye on my personal space while pretending to be asleep. I wanted to know who was it.

It was dawn, when I finally went to bed after lying awkwardly on the couch for the night. My inner self knew very well that if I were to lie on bed with just the intention of not shutting my eyes, my mind would do quite the opposite. My curiosity led me to the diary as soon as it was daybreak. But my poor body needed to use the toilet real fast. After all, I had drank almost two bottles of water last night to help keep me awake.

I rushed out of the toilet as a faint jingle sounded in my ears.

Someone was there, I thought. But to my utter shock, the room was vacant. As patients, we weren’t allowed to lock the doors from inside, so I wondered if someone would sneak in. But even if they had, there was no way they could go out that quick.

I picked up the diary hastily and rushed through the pages.

My jaw hung open and eyes widened at the sight. Someone had dared to lay their filthy nib on my diary, again!

It read: “Hey Faye. I can read your text on my diary. It sounds crazy, lmao…but, well, we are sort of connected by these two diaries. Pen down something if you read it.”