The warm beams from the sun shone in through the window of my studio apartment. Even I was surprised from time to time how warm Halifax sun was with the ocean being almost ice cold in the autumn weather. I can smell the autumn leaves outside my window, which is my favourite scent since it reminds me of the simple first-day-of-school days. I glance to the clock on my windowsill to see that it's 8:23a.m. Perfect time to get the day started.
I head towards my kitchen, which is just on the other side of the curtain I hung to create a little separation between my bed and the main area. I turn on the coffee maker since I had already put the grounds and water in last night so it would be ready for morning. I like to do things ahead of time because it makes everyday a little easier. I decide to whip up some cereal as I wait for my coffee. Sometimes, I'll go down to the first floor of the building for breakfast since the landlord also owns a little café down there, but today I feel like being alone. I go to sit by the window with my cereal and look out where I can see a little part of Dartmouth and the harbour between the rows of buildings. I lift up my laptop from where it had been leaning against the wall where I left it last night. I'm just beginning a new story that I'd like to work on today.
Writing has always been a passion of mine and I wanted a career in it, but I just feel too exhausted to get out there and do it. I begin to open up the file of work, but am interrupted by the subtle ringing of the timer on the coffee machine. Back in the kitchen, I glance up at the many mugs I had collected over the years and decide to take the dark navy one with the plain city painting on it. I take a second to look at them a little longer, I have many fun, bright ones, but realize I haven't used them in a number of months. I just haven't been in a very "fun, bright" mood lately. I do a slow, steady walk to avoid spilling any coffee to get back to my chair by the window. Carefully setting my mug down next to my half-eaten bowl of cereal, I begin to think of more ideas for my newest story.
The main character doesn't have a name yet, let's just called her, No-Name. She is in her late 30s and has been working a pretty boring job for the past 10 years. The repetition of her job and her daily life is getting to her because nothing different ever happens and it's not that exciting. She slowly cuts more and more people and things out of her life because all she wants is to be alone and stay at home. She doesn't go out to see her friends or even to get groceries and necessities unless she absolutely must. She is very similar to the characters in my last few stories, in fact, if they all weren't so withdrawn from socialization, they could even be friends.
One of my other books is actually going to be made public today. Not published where it will be in stores and libraries, but there's a little cozy lounge a few streets over called, "Read It And Eat," and the owner has a wall full of books written by locals. Whenever I finish another book, I bring it there and people can borrow them like a library. My friends love it because I don't often talk about my stories and this way, they can easily just go read my works. Speaking of, I completely forgot I have to meet up with my friends for lunch. I'd rather not go out, but I don't want to disappoint them. I don't really like to celebrate when I finish a book, but my friends are the ones who force me out of my apartment to have a special lunch each time I do.
My friends are all very lively, the most lively of the bunch would have to be my oldest friend, Winnie. If it wasn't for high school cliques, we probably wouldn't even be friends. Once we transitioned to high school, all of our old "friends," found new friends who were deemed popular and left us in the dust. Then one day, after sitting alone at lunch for the first week, Winnie approached the table, cracked a joke, and we've been friends ever since. The time is now 10:46 a.m. and after working on my story for quite some time, I realize I should prep to meet my friends. I save my work then take the last sip of my coffee and put the dishes in the sink to wash later on. Since the air is chilly outside, I put on my cozy, "ugly" sweater, as some call it, and head on my way.
After the brisk walk to "Read It And Eat," I get greeted at the door by my friends, but not in their usual cheerful manner. They were already waiting at the door, they must've seen me walking up the street, and have symathetic looks on their faces. It's a rumble of consoling "Hey's" and I swear one of them even patted me on the back.
"Uh, hi guys," I greet them with confusion. I think something weird is going on.
We all move as one towards the table they had saved by putting their coats on it and they helped me to my chair like I was a fragile dandelion puff that the wind could blow away. That proves something weird is definitely going on.
"Okay guys, I appreciate all the help...but what's wrong?"
"We all read your last few books, as you know, and we are concerned about you," Jane blurts. The others shoot her a look that makes me think she wasn't supposed to say anything about it.
"What do you mean, concerned?"
"Well Lee," Winnie pipes in before Jane answers again, "We've been thinking there's more behind these characters than just their fictional being. We know how great of a writer you are, and aren't doubting that at all, but we feel as though your recent characters might hit a little closer to home." Jane and Ashley nod their heads in agreement.
I don't believe this. I just don't. "I see how you guys could be worried, but just leave it please. As far as you should be concerned, they are just characters. It's really no one's business," I say this aiming to dismiss the conversation while keeping my cool.
"We know, but you know if anything ever is going on, you can tell us and reach out for help, okay?" Ashley says trying to end the conversation on a good note. Something about the looks they give me just scream, "we feel so bad for you," almost like they look down on me.
"Yes, I get it alright! I get how you guys think you are helping, but I don't need your help, nor do I want it!" I snatch my jacket from my chair and bolt out the door leaving my friends in shock at the table.
That all happened five days ago, and I haven't left my apartment, or been in contact with anyone since. My friends have all tried calling and texting me, Winnie the most. I haven't worked much more on my story or other drafts I have, I just don't see a point in it anymore. If my work is just going to get falsely judged by my closest friends, then what do other people think about it? I'm not just falling behind in my writing, but I don't feel the need to plan things out to make it easier anymore. Once again, I just don't see a point to it. Doing that never really helped me anyways, it was just something extra to do when I had time. I didn't even matter.
Three more days have gone by, and I am still in the same shape as I have been in for the past week. My voicemail has fourteen messages, ten from Winnie, the other four divided between Jane and Ashley. On top of that, there are 22 other missed calls and 144 text messages. I've really let things pile up. It's about 7:15 p.m., I'm guessing, and I'm in my usual recent state of sitting in my chair near the now closed window with a cup of coffee from the morning. My laptop has been closed since the day of the lunch with my friends, and still tucked against the wall. I begin to think about my characters. They haven't done anything lately either. If I remember correctly, No-Name is still under her covers at 4:00 in the afternoon on a Tuesday. That gets me thinking. Maybe my friends were on to something. Maybe they were right. I am No-Name, and have been since my first novel of the same theme three years ago. There is something going on, I need to reach out. Before I know it, I reach for my laptop and open the dust-covered lid. I click on my latest story and replace every, "No-Name," with my own name, Lee. I change almost every little detail to fit my own life and read it over one last time for reassurance. Once I consider it done, I prepare it to send a copy to each of my friends. It's all ready to go and while taking a deep breath, I press send. Then it's done. I've finally been true to myself and have let my friends in.
