Edaline and Isaiah
Lilies were always my favourite flower as a child; I didn’t really understand what they stood for then-death. I was always a pessimistic child. It doesn’t matter though, I didn’t know the significance or the importance of the trivial things in life, I’ve realised now that decisions and choices do matter. They have a big impact on what happens to us and those around us…
I pick up the steaming coffee mug besides me, gripping it closer and inhaling the addictive black liquid inside before taking a small, risky sip. Taking a breath, I carefully place it back down glancing back at my notebook. There’s no use, I’m not going to finish it. Not at this time.
Tiredly, I look at the clock, 5:49am. Typical. I’ve been awake for over an hour. It’s not surprising really, it’s the first day back today and they’ll all know. I feel exposed and watched. Raw and new. In a way I am, we all are in reality. A new dawn allows for a new day, I think it’s a curse. You can’t simply become new in such a short time. You have to work for it. Mould it and shape it over a period of time. I believe that I am doing that.
Irritated, I close the notebook and start to get up from my seat. I finish my coffee and climb back into bed. It’s no use really; I’m not even sure why I try.
Sigh.
This is pathetic; I need to pull myself together.
I roll over and reach for my phone, the light from the bright screen makes me squint as I scroll to find Isaiah’s number. I text to see if he’s awake. It’s doubtful at this time but his sleep pattern is as erratic as mine so I can never quite tell. I always chance it anyways,
‘You awake?’
‘No.’
‘I’d assume that actually, since you replied, you are awake.’
‘Eddi, I’m choosing not to be. Go to sleep.’
With a roll of my eyes I lay on my back once again, throwing my phone to the side of my bed. Sai always gets moody when you wake him, even if he’s ‘choosing’ to be asleep. I would like to prevent that negativity from being directed at me. I check the time again, the big black clock directly opposite me staring at me as if to say ‘you may be in charge but you can’t beat me,’ which is naturally true. I can’t escape the fact that it’s only 6:04am but I can at least make use of my time instead of lying here and moaning about it. I walk over to my wardrobe and pull out some striped pants that fit nicely alongside a black shirt that sits a bit looser on me. I quickly change and attempt to tame my overgrown, light brown highlighted hair. Half of it ends up in a topknot and the rest falls freely, flowing down my back. Picking up my coffee mug, I attempt to quickly make my way downstairs once again. It’s easier during the night because my parents are deep sleepers but they also can get particularly agitated if woken at this time so I try to be more careful. Although, I can’t deny that I am extremely clumsy. I start to turn on the lights and walk through to the kitchen, my coffee pot from earlier going cold from sitting there for so long. I pour myself a mug anyways, adding in two sugars and stirring before placing it in the microwave for forty seconds. I close the kitchen door in order to prevent the noise from travelling around the house. The microwave beeps and I carefully remove the mug, avoiding burning myself and wasting the glorious caffeine that my system relies so heavily on.
Exhaustion is exhausting, I think before pushing the negative thought away.
No Edaline, you promised to start this day off positively. I take a deep breathe in. Out. We can do this. I roll my sleeves up and gaze at the tattoo on my inner forearm, the empty bottle where the daisy, iris and hydrangea are pouring out of it. Filling that emptiness with hope. I never used to be a flower person but flowers are a current fascination of mine. There are so many of them in so many shapes and colours. They’re symbolic too, representing all forms of life on this planet but mostly, reinforcing the sweetness that we need after a dark time. They remind us of kindness and beauty even when we don’t want to be reminded. That is symbolic in itself.
6:34am, better wash up that mug Cherie.
I clean up (what else is there to do really) and tread back upstairs. I’ll buy food later. Who needs food at this time anyways? I pull out my desk chair and take a seat. Flipping to a clean page, I start to write again. Writing burns the time away, it is a reflective, psychologically beneficial art. It varies between poetry, reflective thoughts and views and journalistic pieces. Since I recently pledged to be more positive, my writing has seen a better change. It’s healthier I suppose and healthy is good.
Healthy doesn’t stop me from writing about the unhealthy though.
The pen trains the ink and the ink begins to dance.
He cracked a smile that said
‘Just look at me’
But I knew better
The weird quirks
Like
He always carried a book
In his back pocket
As if
He was going to lose
The words
And his escape
Fantasy world
Would be gone.
The little things
Like the cracks
And tears
Tiny and miniscule
In his over worn
And dying
Leather jacket.
There was always a hint
Of his vibrant essence
Wherever you went
It shook you
To your core.
Nobody has energy like that.
Until
One day
You
Couldn’t take it
Anymore.
Reality hits
And the fantasy
Falls.
You have to escape,
For real now.
Because the real world
Is here
Breathing and sucking
You in like
A
Trap.
The once beautiful
Is now gone
And all I saw
Were the raw edges
Which cut me
To my core.
So when you came
Came back,
I didn’t expect the words
Because once I believe
I told you that
Maybe
I loved you
Once.
Once upon a time.
But then you left and didn’t come back.
Here we are,
A year later
A year spent in darkness
And you chased me
After running for so long
To say the words
I don’t think I wanted to hear from you
Not now.
‘I love you.’
He is the one thing that needs to go away. He needs to leave me alone. You cannot infiltrate my secure and tiny kingdom to just simply leave. God, I need a smoke. This is bad. 7:03am, almost time to go. I ring Sai again, just to make sure that he’s meeting me. Just to make sure he’s 100% awake.
Ring…
Ring…
‘Welcome to the caller’s messaging service. I’m sorry but Isaiah can’t take your call right now, please leave a message after the tone.’
“Typical,” I whisper to myself.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
It’s even more typical that he would ignore me and text me instead. Idiot.
’I am 110% awake and ready I swear. Totally leaving right now.’
‘Liar’
‘Maybe. Or maybe I’m just ten minutes late.’
‘But are you late or not? For a blunt person you’re awfully confusing.’
‘I HAVE LEFT THE BUILDING. SEE U SOON.’
I can’t resist smiling, even if this is too much for me to handle as this godly hour. For someone who struggles to sleep, I always crave it and I can never quite bring myself to love the time.
7:14am. Better get moving. I quickly pack up and grab my stuff. Nothing gets moved too much so it’s a fairly easy task. Pulling on a trench coat and some flat trainers I head to my door.
Oh my God. It’s fucking pissing it down.
I was never a weather planner or someone to notice these things at this time. It always seemed trivial. The reality was that, it is trivial. None of it mattered anyways. So, I grew some balls, took a deep breath and stepped outside into the rain. I used to admire the rain, revel in the release. I believed it was peaceful and pretty. Now I just see the storm.
Sai meets me in town, every morning at around 8am but I was always early. It was only a twenty minute walk really, we lived in a small city that shouldn’t really be classified as a city, and he took a half an hour bus. He lived a bit further out but spent more time in the local area than me. Recently, I had been rather cooped up inside, where it was safe and away from the prying eyes of others. Sai actively set out to change that.
I pulled the collar of my coat up a bit higher, not that it did anything to shield me from the brutal cold, and quickened my pace as I rounded the final corner. Surprisingly, Sai had beaten me here. Maybe he had been joking after all. I jogged towards him, my bag bouncing around as I did, I looked like a kid on their first day at secondary school, drowned and practically absorbed by a freakishly large bag.
“Hey,” I half smiled at him.
“Hi, let’s go. It’s damn cold,” he replied and together we walked.
It was only ten minutes before I caved. But, I really need a smoke. My nerves were next level, I was fidgeting with everything, the buttons on my coat or the strap on my bag and twisting the ends of my hair until I could feel the strain on my scalp. That’s it. I dived into the bottom of my pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a dodgy red lighter. Shakily, I took out a cigarette and placed it in my mouth; I brought the lighter to the end of the cigarette and took a deep breath in. Ignited, it carefully burned and I let out the anxiety that I had been holding in. Smoke carefully blew around us.
“I thought you were cutting down”, Sai stated with a shake of his head. We only had a short, ten minute walk left and often we were quiet, enjoying the calm of early morning.
“If I keep telling myself that then maybe I will but I’m too anxious, I can’t keep still, my hands won’t stop tremoring and my heart is racing. I feel pathetic.” I sighed heavily and took another long drag. Sai didn’t approve nor disapprove of my bad smoking habit; it was something out of his control. He could express his concern or discontent about it, but has he quite firmly believed- we all have our issues, our bad sides and our problems. But one day we won’t need ’em anymore. Something like that.
“It’s not pathetic, it’s just anxiety. They’ll either know or they won’t. Answer their questions or don’t but do not breakdown, stand firm but don’t pick a fight. Don’t get upset. Simply state, ‘My summer was fine; I hung out with some friends. Nothing interesting to report.’ If they ask about him then say, ‘all I know is that he left for New York, I haven’t spoken to him. He’ll be doing fine though’, and then change the subject. No vulnerability is allowed here.” Isaiah gives me a small smile, before looking forwards again. I finish my cigarette and throw away the ends. I can see the car park. Across from that my building stands, a few kids hang outside, smoking or talking. Probably mentally preparing themselves for the heavy workload and long days to come. I sigh again and my heart rate accelerates slightly.
“I don’t want to go in yet,” I quite firmly state, shaking my head and fiddling with my coat button again. Sai sighs. He looks at the building, then at me before checking the time. Looking at his watch, he gently nudges his head in the direction of a bench.
“C’mon, it’s only 8:24am anyways. Plus, it’s not like I can sit inside your building. I’m not a student.” We walk over and I practically collapse into the bench. I face him and smile.
“Why do you always know what’s best? Are you secretly telepathic? Oh my gosh, are you an alien Sai? Can you imagine, you could have rainbow skin and not even know it? This is it Isaiah, this is how I make my fortune. Selling out my alien best friend to the media in order to become a millionaire, it’s perfect.” Laughing, I poke him in the shoulder. He shakes his head in disapproval although; he still lets out a quiet chuckle. The sun is brighter now; mornings are still light in the September air. It’s getting colder though, as it always does as October approaches. I squint slightly. Isaiah leans back a bit, the wooden bench squeaking slightly in protest. I giggle at the sight of it.
“What are you still laughing at? I don’t think they’d believe you. They’d lock us up and claim that we were mentally deranged, a threat to society. The writer and the art student, it’s a bit atypical is it not?-“ I stare at him blankly for a moment before bursting out laughing again, “Can you stop looking at me like that? What is it that so damn funny?”
I finally was able to contain my laughter and he gave me a pointed look, almost like a warning glance, “It’s just that you’re so skinny, sometimes I forget that you are pretty strong and the bench-“, I snorted, I’m being so stupid, this isn’t even that funny but he just doesn’t understand, “-the bench bloody squeaked and it just always surprises me that you’re not weightless y’know,” I finally spat out, realising that none of what I just said made any sense to anybody but me. Sai slowly stands, and sometimes I really do feel as though he is a ghost. What if I’m just insane and this is simply a fragment of my imagination. Surely the universe did not just gift me with a gem like him for the sake of it. He’s so big and small at the same time. So tall but skinny. His dark unruly locks are a wild mess atop of his head and I look down at my own carefully pieced together outfit. We are complete opposites, the writer and the photographer. I can never be anything but grateful.
“You’re a fucking weirdo Eddi, I worry about what’s going on inside of that head of yours. C’mon, time to go. It’s 8:50am. I’ve still got the rest of this damn hill to get up yet. You gotta pick up your timetable, right?” I click my tongue in agitation, he’s right and I’m fully aware of the fact that he is right but I will resist doing this until my very last breath. Giving in, I stand up, the stress already making its way into my nerves and doing its magic on me.
“I know, I better get going then. Am I seeing you later? Will you just text me? If I don’t die of boredom, I’m sure you will,” I shout at him as he begins to walk in the direction of the art building. He’s an aspiring photographer, he may look like your typical art student but he just takes photos. Breath-taking ones at that. He does what he loves and has a passion for, what more could he want really?
As I head inside my building, I end up thinking the same thing. What more could I possibly ask for?
