Kaleidoscope eyes

Epilogue

I've learnt that waiting is the most difficult bit, and I want to get used to the feeling, knowing that you are with me even if you are not by my side.
-Eleven minutes, Paulo Coelho|

It's only a week until college and it's been a month since I last spoke to Eva. Gosh I miss her.
I was there when Eva was discharged from the hospital. Her hair was a bit ruffled and it had grown since I met first her. She stood a bit uneasily, her left hand was holding her upper right arm. She was wearing black pants and a white t-shirt written "I can" in pink lettering. Her jagged scars were on full display to for the whole world to see for the first time. Her eyes were to the ground as if she couldn't quite believe it.
'Come on Eva, smile for the camera,' her mother had said as she tried to take picture of her and I.
Her father was smiling as he leaned next to the car watching his wife try to get his daughter to look at the camera.
'It's a lovely day Eva,' I had whispered as I stood next to her. 'Smile.'
She still wouldn't look up and so I leaned down and kissed her neck. She gasped, snapping her head to glare at me. Her father said a stern "Ezekiel" as a warning, and her mother beamed as she clicked the camera. I pulled her close and winked directly at the lens.
That's the last day I spoke to Eva before she left for the rehabilitation centre. The framed picture stood on my desk and reminded me of the how I had spent my gap year.
After Eva had left, the days seemed to crash into each other for me. They faded and drifted like the smoke from the cigarettes I smoked. I spent most of my days in the library after that or in my room reading the story Eva had written; the one she had given the first time I went to her home. True to its name, How to fill blank pages, filled most of the blank pages of my days. It was about a girl whose village got raided and she had to go live with her aunt because her parents and almost everybody else had been killed. She goes into depression and suffers a bit of post trauma at first. Then one day she meets a boy at the local grocers and they start to become good friends even though the girl never tells the boy why she is so sad or where she comes from despite the boy's persistent asking. One day the boy has to leave to go see his grandparents a few town districts away. The girl is sad but the boy gives her a leather bound, yellow paged note book and tells her to write whenever she thinks of him. At first the girl doesn't know what to write in it but in the end she decides to write the boy a series of letters, starting from the beginning; the raid, moving in with her aunt and meeting the boy. She writes every single detail and that's how she fills the blank pages. On her last entry she tells the boy she has feelings for him. It ends with her giving the notebook back to the boy and telling him to read it.
I think I have re-read it a total of seven times.
On other days I spend time playing chess with Andrew and explaining to him the whole ordeal. He never gets tired of listening. He tells me about Joan as well and how she is progressing. He even took me to her once. She had panicked, fearing I would hurt and my heart had bled out as I saw Andrew try to soothe her. I had done this to her. I had done this to them. I had done this to us. My heart bled for it all.
'He's not going to hurt you.' Andrew had shot me a look. 'It's just Zee.'
Joan paused for a minute and peeked over Andrew's shoulder. She stared at me with recognition.
'Ezekiel,' Joan had breathed out.
'In the flesh,' I had smiled.
She broke away from Andrew and had come to stand close to me. She studied me and I didn't move. She placed a sweaty palm on my cheek. I didn't move. I didn't breathe just in case it would frighten her. Andrew had a little smile playing on his lips, clearly happy that Joan had been able to take such a big step.
She did screech after some time though and had run and buried her face in Andrew's chest, saying that she was sorry and that she was scared. Andrew had hugged and told her it was fine and that it would be fine. He told her he was proud of her courage to stand up and hold me. I had left somewhere after that, giving Andrew a nod so that he would know I was leaving. He shrugged a sorry but I understood. Joan needed some of his glue right then.
However, sometimes, like now, I sit alone on the veranda at night as my family sleeps. I take a drag from my cigarette- a bad habit I'm trying to break- and just think. I think of how this whole thing started. I think of that first party. I think of Andrew and Joan as they fight her demons together. I think of Kelvin. I heard he left for college a few days ago. I think about his alcoholism and wonder if he will turn out like my biological father. I think of Samantha and how she was going through a detox process at some institution after I heard she overdosed on cocaine. I wonder what the future has in store for her. I think of my family and how they seemed to be an anchor throughout the years, mostly this one.
Then when I have the courage, I think of Eva. I think of her smile and her eyes and her arms. I also think about how right she was. I couldn't save her. I watched her rip herself apart before my eyes. I witnessed as she destroyed herself and had felt utterly useless. How do you save someone who is convinced they can't be saved? I don't have the slightest clue.
Such thoughts make me think about how I had been chosen for psychology. It didn't make sense all those months ago but now it did. Maybe it was some sort of plan. God, the universe, fate, destiny or whatever, maybe it was that. Psychology was put in my course and then the part closest to me started to crumble as I watched. Eva was thrown at me at full speed for some insane reason and everything had started to brew from there. I couldn't save my friends. I couldn't save Eva. You can't save people but maybe you can help them save themselves. Maybe if I learnt about psychology I would be able to help people like Kelvin, Samantha and Joan. Maybe I could help people like Eva.
I watch the smoke from my cigarette rise to the sky.
Maybe I could help people like myself.
'Life is crazy,' I say to the sky as I extinguish my cigarette and go back in, only to find Ella waiting for me.
'You should be asleep,' I tell her.
'Look who's talking,' she counters. 'I see the cigarettes are back.'
'It's not so bad,' I sigh. 'I just need one once in a while.'
'I know.' She smiles weakly. 'Maybe you need to embark on some sort of project to keep your mind off of it. Something to fill the blanks.'
'I'll take up knitting,' I snort as I breeze past her.
She grabs my hand. I turn to look at her.
'Good night Zee,' she says. 'I love you.'
She lets go.
'I love you too Ella.'
#
That night- or early morning- as I pass by my desk and see the framed picture from that day at the hospital standing on top of Eva's book, I pick it up and wonder what it would be like when she comes back. Would we find each other on campus? Would she look for me? Then maybe I would tell her I missed her only to get a snarky remark and a signature eye roll. Then maybe I would take her hand with fading scars, and her eyes would shine with colour, as I walked her to class and she told me about the ordeal or antidepressants and the group therapy. Maybe it would go exactly like that..... or maybe it wouldn't. How could I know?
I put the picture down and pick up the book filled with Eva's words and a thought crosses my mind. I wanted to tell Eva the year I met her was most exciting and depressing roller-coaster year of my life. I wanted to thank Eva in a way I knew she would cherish. So, with my sister's advice about embarking on a project and Eva's idea about how to fill blank pages, I pulled out my laptop and started to type:
Dear Eva,
The world had become bleak........

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