Tears of cold eyes

Chapter 10

C.~Diary

Chianell

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My Dearest Future Self,

If you are reading this, then my journey has begun, and perhaps even concluded. Oh, how I hope you are well, that you have thrived and grown stronger than you ever imagined. I write this not only as a record of my hopes and dreams, but as a message of encouragement to the woman you have become.

Remember the trepidation, the excitement, the sheer exhilaration of setting out on this grand adventure? Remember the letters from Elizabeth, brimming with encouragement and a fierce loyalty that warmed my heart like a hearth fire on a cold night? Hold those memories close, for they are the bedrock upon which your strength was built.

I hope you've seen the breathtaking landscapes I only dream of now – the majestic mountains, the sprawling plains, the bustling cities teeming with life. I hope you've met people from all walks of life, learning from their stories and sharing your own. I hope you’ve tasted the sweetness of success and the bitterness of disappointment, for both are essential ingredients in the rich tapestry of life.

More importantly, I hope you've found your voice, future self. I hope you've used your experiences, your observations, your very being to contribute to the cause of women's rights. I hope you've spoken truth to power, challenged conventions, and inspired others to fight for a more just and equitable world. Remember the injustices we witness today; let them fuel your passion and determination.

Do you remember the conversations we shared with Elizabeth, late into the night, fueled by candlelight and dreams? I hope you cherish those memories, for friendship is a precious gift, a lifeline in the tempestuous sea of life. I trust you have maintained that bond, that you've found solace and strength in her unwavering support.

This journey is not just about geographical exploration, my dear future self; it’s about the exploration of your own potential, your own capabilities. Embrace the challenges, learn from your mistakes, and never stop striving for a better tomorrow. And most importantly, never forget the girl who dared to dream, the girl who wrote this letter with hope in her heart and fire in her soul.

With love and anticipation,

Your Past Self

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My Dearest Future Self,

Fifteen years old today, and I almost didn't make it. A vicious winter wind, and my ever-present allergy, conspired to steal my breath – and almost my life. This entry is a record of that terrifying struggle, a testament to both my fragility and my resilience.

Remember the fear, the suffocating constriction in your chest, the blurring vision? Remember the icy tendrils that seemed to reach into your very soul, threatening to extinguish the flame of life? Let this memory serve as a constant reminder of life's fragility, a harsh lesson etched by near-death.

Then, a blur. I woke to a hazy image – a girl, I think, leaving my room. Who was she? A fleeting glimpse, a ghost in the fading terror. My mind, still clouded by the attack, dismissed it as a hallucination, a trick of my failing senses. Perhaps my sister, or even Mother, though I can't recall her being there.

The next clear memory is Mother's arrival, a cup of warm tea in her hand, the scent of chamomile a balm to my ravaged lungs. But that blurred figure...who was she? Did I imagine her? Or was she a guardian angel, unseen, unheard, yet present in my time of need?

Do you still fear the winter winds? Have you found ways to mitigate the danger, to live without the constant dread of another such attack? I hope so. I hope you've found peace, a sense of security that allows you to appreciate the beauty of winter without the paralyzing fear that gripped me today.

Did you conquer your fear? Or does it still linger, a shadow in your heart? What paths did you choose? What adventures did you find? I long to know how my life unfolded beyond this terrifying day, beyond the mystery of that blurred figure.

Remember the warmth of Mother's hands, the relief that washed over you when she arrived? Remember the fleeting images – your mother's face, the hearth fire, the lullaby – that anchored you to life? Hold onto those memories; they are the threads of your existence. And remember the mystery of the girl…

This isn't just a record of near-death; it's a promise. A promise to live fully, to appreciate every breath, every sunrise, every moment the wind doesn't steal away. A promise to find joy even in the face of fear, and perhaps, one day, to understand the mystery of the girl in the blur. With trembling hands and a grateful heart,

Your Fifteen-Year-Old Self.

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My Dearest Diary,

The thrill of escape still courses through my veins. Elizabeth’s letter, a clandestine promise whispered on paper, ignited a fire in my heart. My parents, ever vigilant, would never approve of our meeting, yet the allure of the mini forest, a hidden jewel at the edge of our village, proved too strong to resist.

I slipped from my chambers like a shadow, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. The moon, a conspiratorial witness, guided my way. The air hummed with the secrets of the night, a symphony of crickets and rustling leaves. Finally, I found Elizabeth, her eyes sparkling with the same mischievous glee that danced in my own.

Our adventures began in that enchanted wood, a place I’d only glimpsed from afar. We wandered hand-in-hand, discovering hidden glades and whispering streams. Later, we ventured further, to places I had only dreamt of. We rode magnificent steeds, their coats the color of midnight, towards the vast ocean. The salty air whipped through my hair as we galloped along the shore, the rhythm of their hooves a wild, exhilarating song.

The ocean…oh, the ocean! Where the waves met the sand, a frothy embrace of power and serenity, there we sat, our laughter echoing against the cliffs. It was a perfect parallel to our secret meeting – a powerful, beautiful, forbidden thing. It felt as though the waves themselves whispered of our clandestine joy. This, my dear diary, will be my favourite escape. This friendship, this freedom, this shared secret.

My future self, wherever you are, I hope you still find joy in such simple things. I hope you still find Elizabeth, a kindred spirit, a confidante, a partner in adventure. I hope you still feel the exhilaration of the ocean breeze, the wild freedom of a horse beneath you, the sweet taste of forbidden fruit.

I wonder what other adventures await us? What other hidden corners of the world will we uncover? Will we still find such joy in our shared escapes? Will our friendship remain as strong as the waves that crash upon the shore? Only time will tell.

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My Dearest Diary,

I spent the day reflecting on yesterday's adventure. It was truly magical. The way the sun caught the water, turning it into a thousand shimmering diamonds. The way Elizabeth’s laughter echoed through the air, as light and free as a seagull. The way the horses responded to our touch, their strength and grace a perfect mirror of our own burgeoning friendship. It was a day I shall never forget. And I can’t wait for our next escape.

This morning, I found a small, smooth stone on my windowsill – a gift, I believe, from the sea. It’s cool to the touch, and perfectly round, a miniature echo of the boundless ocean. I’ve placed it on my desk, a constant reminder of yesterday’s joy, a silent promise of future adventures.

I created a drawing of Elizabeth and me riding along the shore, the wind whipping through our hair, our laughter echoing across the waves. It doesn’t quite capture the magic of the moment, but it’s a start. I’ll try again tomorrow, perhaps with more vibrant colours, to truly capture the essence of our shared escape.

Later this evening, I overheard my Mother and Father discussing my behaviour. Their words were hushed, but I caught snippets about disobedience and unsuitable companions. A wave of guilt washed over me, but it was quickly replaced by a surge of defiance. Our secret, our shared joy, is too precious to relinquish. Elizabeth and I will continue to meet, to explore, to create our own world, hidden from prying eyes. Our friendship, like the ocean, is vast and powerful, and nothing will break it.

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