Labels: Day

Twilight in the backdrop of the dark, shadow-filled town square. Not a sound can be heard but for the minute last minute drops of the recent storm. A car rolls casually past, its headlights blazing. Then, as quickly as it came, it has left, and the darkness reclaims it rightful place, filling it with contortions of nothing at all. The shops, most of them now closed; cast strange and haunting shadows across the side-walk. Yet there is something, alluring about this otherwise empty square. As though some grand or momentous event had occurred here in the past. I paced the hard gravel, lost in my otherwise peaceful thoughts.

Do you know what it feels like, loving someone because she’s the only person you can? Do you know what it feels like to have wanted, longed for a love that you thought would never come? She touched me in a way no one else could. She’s given me as much as I’ve given her, and more. She’s the only one that’s ever cared for me, ever loved me for who I am. She’s the only one that ever could.

The first time I met her, I knew I was wrong for her. All my life I’ve watched other couples, their arms around each other, wrapped up in their own world. I’ve seen the extravagant gifts and romance-filled nights in the town. I knew I could give her none of that. But she saw me in a different light. My love for her was one I could not resist, and so I gave myself fully to her. Besides, it wasn’t like I could do anything else.

The blare of a horn in the distance tore me from my philosophical musings. It was this very spot that we had our first date. Our favourite haunt. I was so worried for her, the first time we met in public. They would stare at us, well, they would stare at her actually, but she never seemed to care. I glanced at the watch-store nearby. It was still early, so it wouldn’t hurt to go have a little look around the shops. After all, no one really ever noticed me anyway. It wasn’t as if some police officer was going to come up to me and say, “Gee sonny-boy, what are you doing out here so late?” I laughed at the sheer absurdity of the thought. I was inspecting a strangely familiar necklace in a jeweller’s display when I heard the crunch of the gravel somewhere ahead of me. I quitted the store and there she stood, with her back towards me. My heart began to beat in a familiar semi-quaver tempo as I crept up to her.

I raised myself to my full height and crossed my arms behind her. My lips curled upwards in a smirk that I knew she hated, waiting for her to turn around. Her head turned and I found her, quite literally, staring at me. “Hey, I missed you.” I waited with that same smile on my face. Two seconds passed. Three, four then five. I looked into her eyes the way I knew she loved. She stared blankly back at me as though I wasn’t there.

“Di,” I said, confused, “It’s me.” She continued to stare ahead as though I wasn’t there. For a moment I thought she was joking.

“Earth to Diana, earth to Diana,” at this point my smile was beginning to falter, “Do we have a loose circuit up there or something?” I said, raising my finger to tap against her forehead. I stopped and I realised, everything I’ve been dreading day after day after day had finally come true. She couldn’t see me.

Two weeks have passed. I gaze over her bed as she lies in the bionic, whitewashed ward. It’s all my fault. I knew I was wrong for her, I knew it wouldn’t work. I knew, deep down that someday reality, at least her reality would catch up with us. To her world, I was a dream, possibly even a nightmare. To the psychiatrist, I was a figment of her under-used imagination. I cast my mind back to when they took her away.

Her mother approached her with a pair of heavy-set men in white coats at either side. “Diana dear, I think it’s time you get some help,” she said, trying to instil some form of empathy in the girl we both loved. “Mom,” she started, defensively, “I’ve told you a million times, I don’t need help. He’s real. He’s out there somewhere, you just can’t see him. No one else can.” She glanced at the men behind her mother. “I’m not crazy mom, hello; this is your daughter we’re talking about.” The next thing I knew, she was being dragged away, and there was nothing I could do. I hated every minute of it, I’ve never felt so helpless in my life, helpless to save her, helpless to love, helpless to even exist.

And now here I am, watching over her in her bionic white room. Watching over her and the cruel tubes sticking out of her. It kills me to see her this way. Every now and then I see her lips moving slowly, breathing my name as though it would somehow allow her to see me again. I would give everything, just to have one minute with her, to tell her that I love her, and that it didn’t matter if she couldn’t see me. I would always love her. I would give everything to have that one minute with her, but I can’t. And for now, all I can do is watch over her, and here I’ll be, for the rest of my days, waiting, hoping, praying for that one small chance that she might ever see me again.

When you’re sixteen, you think you know everything. From the latest news to the latest trends. You think you know what life is all about after a few minor heart-breaks and a couple of tumble-turned relationships. People come to you for advice for this and that and you begin to feel that you’re experienced, that you’re reliable.

But you don’t know. You don’t know how cruel life can be until you’ve been picked up, destroyed and thrown back in. Until you’ve had your heart ripped from your chest and torn into a hundred thousand pieces, right before your eyes. Until your whole world truly comes crashing. You don’t know.

This is my story.

At first sight, he was perfect. He had the most gorgeous pair of eyes she had ever seen, so dark that his pupils could barely be seen; his toned, well developed muscles stretched the shirt he was wearing; his sinewy good looks could have sent her over the edge. She could not tear her eyes away from him, and it was as though he could not do the same. His owlish stare burnt through her, sending waves of red to her cheeks. He looked at her as though he could not see anything else, as though he was unafraid that he would be caught staring. No one had looked at her like that before. It made her feel good, special.

They held eye contact for nearly a minute, but to her, it felt like forever. Her heart beat like there was no tomorrow, her breath quickened and she felt flustered.

Suddenly, she felt a nudge, and she turned away.

“What are you looking at?” Lisa said. Curious at what had held her best friend’s attention for so long.

The girl spared a second to look back at where he was. And he was gone.

She spent days and nights thinking of that boy. Even though it was barely a minute, there was something about him, about his presence. Someone so different, someone so special, someone that within a few seconds had taken more of her than she was willing to give. But fate was on her side, for a few weeks after that night, she saw him again.

He was with another girl, trailing beside her smiling ever so slightly. A wave of pure jealousy shot through her. But then, it was as though he could feel her presence as he searched the crowd and locked eyes with her. Again, the same sensations spilled through her. Her legs turned weak and if she had not been sitting down she probably would have fallen onto the floor. He left the girl he was with and came over to her, his eyes never once leaving hers. He expertly wove through the crowd and finally stood in front of her.

“Hi…” she said meekly, almost timidly. It was so unlike her, she was usually full of confidence, but there was something about this guy that made her lose every ounce of courage in her. He looked at her, a little amused.

“Hi…” he answered back with a hushed husky voice. She sighed as her heart quickened. If it kept going at this rate, her heart was going to fail soon. But the boy didn’t notice, he slowly tenderly reached for her hand and she let him take it. It did not matter whether he was with another girl. It did not matter that she didn’t know him at all. All that mattered was that he was standing there, with her. Slowly, he looked into her eyes. “My name is Shane… What’s yours?”

Two months flew by after the very first time they met. She had never felt happier than she had in her life. It was as though she had finally found true love. He was there for her, always constantly by her side and yet he knew when she needed her space. He read her mind and always knew what she was thinking of. He was her other half, like yin and yang. He knew how to calm her down, how to make her happy, how to make every single little detail count. It was as though her life had turned into a dream, deliriously happy every single moment of every single day.

But she didn’t notice. She did not notice the weird stares people began to give her, the friends she was beginning to lose, the worry that creased her mother’s face whenever she brought Shane over and the persistence of going to medical check ups. She did not notice the jokes and laughs people made behind her back, the tears running down her parents faces as they watched her, the angry fights between them. She was caught up in her own world. In her own time and space. How little did she know what was going on around her, how little she knew her life was going to change from then on.

He told me he loved me. I recall that. Yet, why can’t I see him anymore? Everyone told me he was a dream, a figment of my imagination. He was gone, gone, gone. Left me all alone to suffer in this cold white cell they called my ‘home’ where they inject things into me to make me feel weak, to take my strength away, to prevent me from getting back to him. He was waiting for me. He told me he would, and Shane never broke his promises. But then why, why, why did he leave me? Did he not love me anymore? Was he really going to leave me to suffer? Could anyone be that cruel?

My name is Diana

This is my story.

My story of a schizophrenic girl.