Autobiographical Piece: Time Travel in Friendship

Recently, I experienced time travel. I went back to a time I always remembered with a perfect image painted in my head. I went back to a time I nostalgically and continuously longed for. I went back to this last moment and played it over and over again in my head until its emotion filled my heart again and brought tears to my eyes. 

It seems unbelievable to me that it has been six years. Six years ago, I lived in a world of anything and everything I wished for. Life seemed perfect, and despair seemed to be so far away. Six years ago, I lived in a reality that was too good to last, or so I thought. Six years ago, I was a Junior High student with the whole future awaiting. I was the perfect student. I went to all my classes, got the highest grades, and absolutely enjoyed the process of learning. However, it was not a one-man show. I had a companion, a competitor, and a best friend.  It was the two of us against the world. We represented all the stereotypes of a perfect friendship. We had different interests yet lives that harmoniously intertwined without impacting the course of the other. I was a basketball superstar and she was a behind the scenes computer genius. I was into the world of piano and music; she was into iTunes and YouTube. I was energetic and lively; she was quiet and reserved. Yet when the two of us were together, it was as if those two worlds became one.

Our friendship was picture perfect. It was a model for the others, and a joy for the two of us. Of course our parents were not fans of the phone bills, but we could not care less. Our 3-hour phone calls that were filled with laughter and the most random topics were a vital and a necessary part of our evening everyday after school. I would go to basketball practice, do homework, and then have my daily phone call with her. We would hang up five minutes before House MD starts, watch it and then sleep with anticipation for the next day. Everyone was amazed by how smooth our friendship was. Everyone was shocked by its transparency and lightheartedness. For us, it seemed only normal, and natural.

Looking back now, I see the bugs and fault in every step of the way. I see too many compromises, silent words, and buried dissatisfaction and disappointment. Looking back, I cannot believe that this friendship actually lasted as long as it did. Looking back, I see that on one part it was based on pure selflessness, and on the other part it was based on jealousy, rivalry, and personal gain. It shocks me to think that a fourteen year old can have such intentions, yet looking back, I am not surprised.

This perfect friendship started coming to ruins on a cold day in February. It was the 26^th of February 2011. On this Saturday, I received an eye opened on too many things in life. I came to realize that as beautiful as friendships can be, they could be fake. I realized that time means nothing and the closest person to you can turn against you in a heartbeat. It was during our senior year of high school, two months before our final IB official examinations. We were overwhelmed with stress and senioritis. On this chilly Saturday, I was in one of my classes when 11 girls came to the classroom and requested that I, along with 3 other girls to go and talk to them. I did not understand what was happening yet I gathered all my certainty that I did nothing worrisome and left with them. In less than a minute, I found that the four of us were cornered with all the eleven girls surrounding us. One of them started accusing us of telling the school to cancel the senior sleepover that was planned to happen the next day. I was shocked and rather taken by that. I knew I was not guilty of this. Yes, I did complain that the sleepover was happening the same day as my official oral exam, but I respectfully said that I would just skip my senior sleep over.  The accusations came at us again. They were loud and hurtful. I looked at the girl standing in front of me but I could not recognize her. I knew her face, and her voice sounded familiar, but she was not someone I know, or at least knew. I couldn’t help but interrupt her and ask her if she is really accusing me of doing this after knowing me for four years. Before her response, I thought I saw the worst. Before her response, I thought she showed me the worst face of friendship, yet I was mistaken. What came next was more painful than anything I have ever experienced. What came were words that stabbed my heart like a sharp sword that goes right through the chest leaving nothing but immense pain and a huge scar. “I am accusing you because I know you. I have known you for four years now and I know that you care about your grades. You are willing to go out of your way to get a high grade. You have talked to the basketball to postpone a friendly match because you had a chemistry test, why wouldn’t you stop the sleepover from happening because of your stupid oral?”

The silence that filled the room after her screaming was the loudest noise I have ever heard. The silence was a combination of shock, fear, disappointment, and speechlessness. It was not just on my side, but also on everyone who was there. All the other 13 girls that were in the room had nothing to say. Some nodded, some looked at me with sympathetic eyes, yet at this point nothing mattered.

The sympathy of others, the nodding, and the silence were all insignificant because all I can see is the face of a stranger in front of me. I looked straight into her eyes, but I saw a hollowness that I could not recognize. I saw envy, and years of piling up coming out in one statement. I wanted to cry. I wanted to yell at her. I wanted her to explain and I wanted to remind her of everything that we had and all the good times, but I was too hurt, and in too much shock to have the strength to response. I stated that “My parents did not call the school” and I walked away showing no expressions or emotions on my face. I went back to my class, and the three girls followed. The class was silent and the students along with the students were waiting for us to tell them what happened. Yet, before anyone could say anything, my tears betrayed me.

For 3 days, the thought of going to school scared me. I was home sick with a really bad migraine. Luckily, my teachers at school were understanding and my academics were not affected. The sleepover happened and this whole issue that was made of lies was insignificant. Yet, I could not understand how it is possible for a person to turn against a close friend that easily. I could not see myself going to school and seeing her there, yet I had to. After three days of being home, I gathered my strength and went to school. The first couple of hours were okay, yet it felt like the calm before the storm. When it was time for our school break, I saw her walking with another friend of ours. I ignored this fact and went about with what I was doing yet less than a minute later I hear someone telling me to smile. I turned around to see a good friend of mine who came to our school during our junior year of high school, I smiled yet before I knew it, my smile faded when the stranger that I trusted with all my life yells from behind “how can she smile when more than half of the senior class is mad at her”. A couple of girls jumped to my defense yet I told them to calm down. I did not want another encounter. I did not want another series of confessions and heart aching words. I could not handle another one of those. Just like I did the first time, I chose the easy way out and walked away.

Two months passed and we sat for our final examinations. It was time for us to graduate. Graduation was on Tuesday the 31^st of May. I was very emotional on that day yet also very excited. While getting ready, I receive a text message from a familiar number. I read it to only end up in tears. It came from someone that was missing from my life for two months. The text was nothing special, but it was enough to set base for communication again. That night, I went to graduation even more excited, not because I was “friends” again with someone who was a huge part of my life, but because I was graduating with a clean white page of truce.

Graduation came and passed. I went to college in Switzerland, and she stayed in Jordan. I made many new friends outside school, and she stuck with the ones from school. We both lead completely different lifestyles, yet every now and then, I remember her and I surprise myself to end up smiling rather than upset. Memories of our fun times make me smile if not laugh sometimes. They make me remember the beautiful taste of friendship that I enjoyed for a really long time. Every now and then, we would talk; just the general formal conversations that happen between two people. Yet, three weeks ago, I traveled back in time. I received an email from her that took me by surprise. She expressed feelings of guilt and regret. She apologized and explained the ridicule of her actions on that chilly day. She was asking for a new beginning because she cherished our friendship. Her email made me happy. It reminded me of a day that made me lose my trust in people. It reminded me of a day when I doubted everyone I know. Yet it also reminded me of forgiveness and the fact that grudges should not be held towards anyone. Nonetheless, the pain was there. I felt defeated on that day, and I could not forget.

Recently I traveled back in time. But time travel was different this one particular incident. It was a travel filled with a conscious realization of a painful memory that I chose to ignore yet couldn’t. A Conscious realization of how powerful friendship can be, and how much it can hurt even after the passage of time. This hurt allowed me to value the lessons it taught me rather than despise them. Although picture perfect friendships proved to be wrong in my case, yet the pain this disappointment caused was a good wake up call that changed my view on friendship. As beautiful as they may be, nothing in life is unconditional. There is a secret garden behind every smile and every world, and until we are fully capable of adapting ourselves in this garden of friendship, we might get stung by the bees.  

Travel Story: Threat Of The Baltic Sea

It was the first time in a long while that the wind blew that hard. It felt like the ceiling above the tiny head of her sleeping child is going to get blown away. Nicole sat on the rocking chair and stared outside the window as the wind whistled and the trees swayed to the melody. It has been a year since they moved to this city. From the multicultural life of Paris to the quiet and reserved city of Rostock. She couldn’t believe that she actually agreed with her husband Jacque to make that move. Rostock was extremely boring and it resembled everything she hated about a city. Nevertheless, the success of Jacque’s career and his happiness meant to her more than all the cities of the world.

The wind blew harder waking up little Celine with tears and paranoid cries. Nicole held her child close to her heart and soothed her till her cries faded into a tranquil silence and wide hazel eyes that stared at her and gracefully blinked with wonder. Celine was 6-months old now. She was born in Rostock and her parents were the only family she had. Her grandparents, aunts, and uncles all lived in either Lyon where Jacque is from, or in Boston where Nicole was born and raised. Sometimes Nicole felt bad for her daughter who is far from her relatives, but she always reminded herself that their living standards have become much better since they made that move.

As she was away in her thoughts, Jacque came home with an anxious smile. She looked at him with suspense. “Is everything okay?” she asked him with uncertainty because she knew how much he hated to be asked that question. Yet to her surprise, he did not snap at her. “I need to talk to you Nicole. Our life is about to change, again.” He murmured that last sentence as he shuffled the papers on the living room table. Nicole looked at him waiting for further explanation, but Jacque kept on shuffling the papers and talking to himself like any occupied businessman. The word “change” scared her. Last time she heard that word from him, they moved to Rostock. She was not ready for another dramatic shift in her life. Ten minutes passed and the only noise that was heard was that of the wind until Jacque broke the silence with a sharp statement that shook Nicole leading her to collapse on a chair with her daughter in her arms. “I have been made redundant. We are expected to leave the house in three days. Oulf found me a job as an accountant at a French bank in Copenhagen and I start first thing next week”.

He handed her a cup of water and took Celine from her. Nicole was crying. Her mind was a whirlpool of confused thoughts. Redundant? Three days? Oulf? Accountant? Copenhagen? Next Week?! It was too much to take in and she was shocked by Jacque’s calmness and almost robot like behavior. She hated Rostock but she cannot handle another big move. Jacque was a deputy general manager, how can he get redundant so easily? And Oulf is a recipe for failure. He’s a 50-year-old cranky German who never seems to settle in one place. In the one year they’d known him, he changed jobs three times. How can Jacque trust and follow his words? Denmark seemed so foreign to her. She did not want to go there, and especially in February when it is even colder than Rostock.

Nicole looked at Jacque with desperate eyes. She didn’t have much choice. Her love for him made her submit to anything and everything he says. It seemed like he had felt his wife’s desperateness, hence Jacque sat next to her and made her melt again into the submission of love. “I promise you this will be our last move for a long time. It has not been easy on you and I know how lonely you get at times, but I promise you our life will be better in Copenhagen. I will make more effort into making you happy”. He said those calming words and kissed her. He rocked Celine as her little fingers held into her father’s white shirt.

A week passed and Nicole had their little belongings packed in boxes and suitcases ready to be taken to Copenhagen. The big truck was waiting outside as she walked around the house for one last time. Two men came in and started loading all their belongings into the truck. Jacque was carrying Celine who was in a deep sleep as he slowly sat in the truck. A couple of minutes later, everything was loaded and Nicole sat next to Jacque in the truck ready to make their journey to the Ferry that will take them to Copenhagen across the Baltic Sea.

The Ferry was better than Nicole expected. It had a cafeteria, a travel shop, and a duty free shop. She walked around with her family until Celine started crying because it was time for her meal. They searched for an empty table at the cafeteria and the only one they could find was next to a table with a really old lady. Nicole smiled to her as she fed Celine her baby custard. The old lady kept on staring at them making Nicole feel very uncomfortable and self-conscious. She tried to ignore her, but she could feel the stares piercing through her. Eventually, she gathered her courage and asked the old lady if she spoke English.

“Actually, I lived in London for 20 years so I speak good English. Cute child you have here. Is she your daughter?”

Although Nicole was very protective of Celine yet she tried to hide her defensive motherly instinct and smiled. “Yes. Her name is Celine and she’s 6-months old.”

The old lady’s eyes brightened as she pulled her chair closer to Nicole. She seemed like a nice lady but her stares and her wide eyes scared Nicole. Jacque was busy on his smartphone that he didn’t even notice that Nicole was talking to her.

Nicole was bored and she just wanted to talk to someone so she gathered herself and neglected her unreasonable nervousness and talked to the lady. “We’re moving from Rostock to Copenhagen. My husband got a job there so we’re going to live there from now on”

The lady didn’t seem interested. It actually seemed like she did not even hear what Nicole just told her. “Why did you decide to name your daughter Celine? It is a nice but uncommon name.”

Before Nicole could answer, Celine started crying bringing Jacque back from his smartphone bubble. He carried her and started walking back and forth. To Nicole’s surprise, the old lady turned her back to her and was looking at Jacque and Celine. At that point, Nicole was freaking out. She gathered the baby’s bag, her purse and Jacque’s jacket and told Jacque to join her in the travel shop. She told him what just happened, and he seemed puzzled. He tried to reassure Nicole by telling her that sometimes old ladies are fascinate by children because they remind them of a time when their children were young or it reminds them of a melancholic reality that they have none of their own. He told her to disregard what just happened, but to make her feel relieved he promised her not to go back to the cafeteria.

As the time passed, Nicole, Jacque, and Celine had to go back to the truck as they came closer the harbor. Nicole saw the old lady again, but this time she looked different. She was wearing black instead of the long grey dress she was wearing before. Nicole shook her head and made her way to truck. She got in and closed the door, yet she suddenly heard someone knock on her window. It was the old lady again. “I have to tell you a secret. I sneaked into this ferry and I don’t know how to get out of here. Can I join you in your truck?” Nicole did not know what to say. She didn’t know if that strange old lady was lying or saying the truth. She felt bad ignoring her request, but she was also worried. She asked Jacque and he immediately opened the door and told her to hop in.

At the beginning, everything seemed okay. Everyone was quiet and either looking out the window, or lost in a world of thought. Suddenly, the old lady broke the silence “Your daughter doesn’t look like either of you. Is she adapted?” Jacque laughed yet Nicole did not find it that funny. Celine was her own baby. She bore her for nine months, and she looked like her. She had her wide hazel eyes and her brown hair. How could this stranger miss that? Everyone saw it at the first glance. “No.” Nicole replied firmly. “She is our daughter, and she looks like us, her parents”. The old lady seemed dissatisfied with this answer and she seemed to be digging for more. “When was she born? You know they say that many babies get mixed up in hospitals? I’m old and old people are known to have a good 6^th sense. I sense she is not your daughter. Are you sure she is?”

At this point, Jacque was losing his patience. Celine was his little girl and he would fight the world to protect her. He requested the truck driver to stop and he kindly asked the old lady to get out. “Look, I understand that you want to get somewhere and that you sneaked, but I am not obligated to get you to your desired destination especially because you are technically illegal. We don’t know you and frankly, I am not comfortable with the way you are talking to us. Here is some money. Get yourself a cab or anything, but please just get out of this truck”

The lady looked at Jacque then turned to Nicole. She did not look angry, she looked resentful. She looked at Celine and without blinking murmured a few words that neither Nicole or Jacque understood, and then added, “I shall return. This is not the end. I have been deprived the right to see my granddaughter because the hospital gave her away since she is the daughter of a refugee, but this child of yours will be mine one day. She is not Celine. She is Costantina and I will come back for her. I shall return”.

She stormed out of the truck and started running. Nicole hugged Celine and started crying. Jacque called the police and reported her yet he did not have her name or any other demographic information that can help them. The truck driver spoke in German on his phone and he seemed startled. Everyone was struck and afraid. Celine however was smiling and shaking her raddle waiting for her mother to respond with a tickle as she usually did.

After two hours of complete silence in the truck, they reached Copenhagen and were parking outside a simple yet nice looking house. “That’s your home sir. We will help unload everything and put it in the main area of the house” the truck driver stated as he tried to hide his exhaustion for this trip.

Nicole got out of the truck while carrying Celine. She entered the house to see that it was beautiful. It had a lot of windows, overlooked the river and all the mansions on the other side. It was fully furnished with very cozy furniture. She walked to the main bedroom to find a baby crib standing next to the mahogany bed. Celine was in deep sleep but she did not want to put her down. She did not want to let go of her daughter for one second. She knew that they were far from where they kicked the lady out, but she was still traumatized by it. Jacque came in and right away he knew what was going on in his wife’s mind. He hugged her from behind and whispered in her ears. “I will keep you both safe and protect you with all that I have. It’s going to be great and I will make you happy. I promise. I love you with all my heart”

His words brought warmth to her heart. She leaned her head against his chest as her baby took a deep breath while away in the world of dreams. She looked outside the window as the sun was reflecting on the waters and beautifully coloring the horizon as it was setting behind the huge mansions. She believed him. 

Variatons on the Word Sleep

The poem was very touching and nice. I liked the way it was written and the stanza distribution which made it even more unique. The similes and metaphors used in the poem also contributed to making it more meaningful and touching. My favorite verses were:

 I would like to follow

you up the long stairway 

 

For me, those two verses portrayed a powerful metaphor. I interpreted the stairway to be a symbol of life, and that he would like to be with his loved one every step of the way whether it took them up or down. All in all, I think the poem provided us with a good image and representation on the use of similes and metaphors in poetry and writing in general.

Neruda, Ode to My Socks

I found this poem to be bit funny. The fact that the writer actually wrote a whole poem on socks is something that I personally find humorous yet also genius. Although I usually prefer poems that rhyme, I found this one to work perfectly well without it. My favorite verses are:

beauty is twice beauty

and what is good is doubly good

I specifically liked those although they did not fully relate to socks because it touches on another metaphoric representation of socks which is the beauty and glory of having more than one thing; just like with socks. 

Cathedral

The short story Cathedral, was -in my opinion- very powerful. Although it portrays communication between two men one of which is blind, it does not abide to the stereotypical misconceptions of blind people. The blind man is conveyed as very intelligent and determined. As a reader, i felt respect towards him, not pity, which is the emotion usually induced by such stories.  Something that I found really interesting was the twist created. The wife's best friend is the blind man, which makes her husband jealous, yet at the same time feel superior. It portrays the typical man-woman story, although this time, the superiority was more of "in your face". rather than implied throughout the story. 

Post-Secret Poem

The Secret: I'm 17 years old and I still watch Disney movies...

Source: http://www.sixbillionsecrets.com/top/8 - PIhlC5LGbi88smXl.99

A Dream of Disney

The sparkle in their eyes.

The purity of their smiles.

It’s a world of love and wonder.

It takes me above and under.

They judge me for sitting among them.

They tell me I have a problem.

What they don’t understand is the truth.

We all drank from the fountain of youth.

A child develops and grows.

Then as adult he assumes he knows.

That life is more serious than thought.

In mundane living he gets caught.

Yet the truth lies in the dark.

When no one is there he makes a remark.

Childhood never fades.

Even if it hides in the shades.

I sit with my young siblings around the screen.

Disney is our final frontier.

We travel to its world of fantasy.

Where a cleaner can be called her majesty.

I’m old enough to be more than a teen.

Yet in my heart I carry this dream.

In a world of wishes and pixy dust.

Nothing will ever come to rust.

I might be seventeen.

But Disney is my world theme.

A world where wishes come true.

A world where I belong only to you. 

Exercise: External Conflict

It was another typical Saturday night and I was sleeping over at my best friend’s place. We watched a horror movie then went to sleep. Suddenly, we a weird and unfamiliar cracking sound that woke us both up. We walked to the window and sneaked a peak to see someone standing outside the house. My friend noticed the gun in his hand and fearfully took a step back. Her father was home, but she was afraid to go up to the second floor where he slept. We heard the same cracking sound again but this time it was louder and closer. I went to the window again, and it was clear to me that he was trying to break in. the lights at the porch reflected on his shiny leather jacket in a familiar way. My friend gathered her courage and reached for the baseball bat. She hid behind the door waiting to hit him on his head as soon as he goes in. Feeling uncomfortable with the familiarity of his jacket, I looked through the window again to realize that the burglar was my brother. 

Separation From Illusions

From between the autumn trees, she slowly got out of her place of solitude. She walked around and tried to make sure no one has seen her. In a moment of sadness, and terror, she decided to run to her last place of hope. She looked around her again and could feel the freshness of the cold air go through her lungs decontaminating all feelings of horror, and grief. She walked away from her own place of solitude, and with every step forward, her mind traveled backwards.
The past was so overwhelming and magnificent it could not be erased. She tried to move on, to forget, and to deny, but it’s power was like gravity, pulling back into the memories, back into the laughs and eventually back into the tears.
Some things are just meant to be. Some things are for the best and benefit of all, but she wished the circumstances were different.
She walked away and tried not to look back because if she did, she will resort back to the forbidden solitude. The melancholic nostalgia felt in her heart was huge yet the ambiguity of what is to come ahead haunted her. She tried accepting the fact that some things are better when they are over. She tried accepting that her place of solitude will now become a place from history. She tried, but the uncontrollable tears failed her.

Yesterday

Yesterday, everything seemed too good to be true. We acted as if our days left here are almost endless. We didn’t worry about the tomorrow that is to come. We laughed, fooled around, and we shared precious moments that are filled with simplicity by which we took no thought of tomorrow. When we woke up the next day though, everything seemed so different. It seemed as if we woke up finding ourselves living in a parallel world where everything is the opposite of how it used to be.  The days of fooling around were starting to become history; and simplicity started to become something we lack. It all seemed overwhelming and it was as if our days of living for the moment were just an introduction to what it coming ahead.