Looking For A Lost Memory

Blind

2nd September 

I always presumed someone had informed Marias' parents of the incident. That means they hear it from me first. I felt like I had the right to tell them, I was still fairly stunned and unhurt, so I took the initiative to find her house. In my physically injured state I shouldn’t be outside but I have to. Her house is fairly large, well-built and maintained well. Unlike the majority of the other houses I’ve seen. I feel intimidated by just standing here. This is a fairly quiet neighbourhood, the silence seems demanding. I want to leave.

When her mother opens the door and sees my face, I immediately know what is going through her mind. But her eyes are kind, almost pitiful when she sees my scar. I continually avoid her eyes before staring at her.

“Yes?” She starts, I don’t know where to begin.

“What’s wrong?” I notice her voice resonates with Marias same voice, soothing and calm to the ears. I close my eyes in memory. I begin with telling her how close I was to Maria. She looks alarmed and tells me how she went missing a few days ago – specifically the night she was killed. 

I suddenly become nervous, weary and tired. When I say the words surprisingly she believes me immediately. She’s filled with shock, failing to keep herself upright she falls down. Her mother is overwhelmed with tears and pure shock. I stand there sheepishly doing nothing unsure what to do so I pull her to embrace and comfort her. I on the other hand, feel numb. I try to stop myself from feeling anything.

She persistently asks me how it happened. That’s when I froze, I couldn’t. Not yet. I remember my face grimacing and how i reluctantly answered with “I don’t know”, turned around and walked back, unhurt.

_________

4th September 

I’m starting to notice things I never did before. Like the way time seems to be slower, and the days suddenly feel longer. People are occupied and always doing something to keep themselves busy while I’m becoming aware of my surroundings. Or the way everywhere gets quiet at once, I wake up unsure of where I am. I wake up unsure of what my purpose for the day is. 

As the days go I’m beginning to notice her absence. I don’t want to believe it but it’s staring right at me. Everything around me is this bland colour of white, shades of white and more impenetrable shades of white. Just blank, pointless colours. None of them make sense to me anymore. Nothing makes sense to me anymore.

_________

5th September 

"He's lazier, colder and shows multiple symptoms of PTSD. He's got to go home." 

I know. I can't be blind to it anymore.  

I need to leave. But I can't. 

It’s slowly grown on me. All of it is here. I'm tired. My mind is havoc. Just constant storms. The things I've experienced and seen in my life, influence my actions.  

I can't continue without her. It doesn't feel right. 

She taught me to seize moments, that we only have a limited time together. She made me realize a lot of things. There're so many questions I wanted to ask her, so many things I wanted her to know.

Now it's empty. I'm stuck in an empty box, and my light has left me. 

___________

10th September - Coming back home should be one of the most important feelings that make your life feel whole and complete?  

I never informed my mother of what happened. She knew from the very second, I got off the plane that something was wrong. I tried my best to force my happiness, I couldn't let her know. I was sure she'd be disgraced with me if she ever found out. This was the first time I was seeing her in years, to me it secretly felt like I was meeting a stranger, but I would never admit that. I wouldn't inflict my pain on her, so I smiled, I laughed, I embraced her. She was happy, so overwhelmed she began to cry. All because she was surprised to see how much I've grown. My mother was talking, but all her words meant nothing to me.

But she noticed my scar. I knew it was coming, there's no avoiding it. I pretended I didn't notice her reaction, but I saw everything. She was horrified, she almost turned around in shame as if she wasn't ready to see me. Yet, she didn't ask any questions about it. 

The drive back home was a nostalgic one, it was nice to think back, but the haunting ordeals I experienced still lingered in my mind. When we arrived home, she instantly knew I was faking how I truly felt, she could sense everything. The change in me, not just physically, but I was much more withdrawn. My stare was cold and more intimidating. It was like you could see past my eyes and see the damage and sadness in me. The way I talked slower, like nothing mattered anymore and my answers were much more vague than before.

At dinner, when Akira went to sleep, she sat me down and told me to speak up. As she came, I noticed she sat on my right - where she couldn't t see my scar - I want to challenge her but I remain quiet. 

This will never end first my heart, now my face and inside, I'm burning.

Then there's my scar. I can tell she's ashamed of me. When she looks at me, it's like she is asking ‘who are you? What happened, you are not my son?’ I always presumed someone would've told her what happened.

I told her I was friends with a girl. A girl I would've wanted her to meet. I know she would've loved her. I also told her she was murdered. No. I didn't. I wanted to. I can write the words but I can't say them out loud. I tried, but I knew if I spoke or describe how it happened, I knew instantly I would break. It was a strange feeling, I mentally froze, my body grew cold. The words were too much of a harsh reality to believe. 

In these moments she comforted me with words and reminded me of fond memories but deep down I know not one word can fix or change how I feel. Nothing will bring her back. Now that she's gone, now that my void to return to Brazil is gone, I feel more attached. I'm starting to remember little details about her. Details I didn't pay attention to before, but it's only now I realize the importance. 

There's another hard truth I'm also dealing with. My mother doesn't recognise me. Inside, yes, I'm still there, but physically, when she sees my face, I'm not there.

____________

1

6 September

I think of her voice, and how no one on earth can replicate it.  

I have more sleepless nights than I've ever experienced in my life. Because when I do sleep, I dream of Maria. Some are brilliant memories, but some are haunting ones. Whichever one they are, they taunt me no matter what. One of them constantly repeat in a pattern. One that I detest the most, because I know exactly how it ends.  

Imagine a beautiful setting, a palace-like environment, with gold embellishment surrounding every fabric and wall in sight, crimson curtains draped across the walls and a vast floor painted in decorations. Everyone else is dancing to slow paced music, I don't notice anyone else, all I see is her, laughing, smiling, spinning us round carelessly. People around us begin to disappear, I'm suddenly aware of my surroundings, but I remain in a trance with her. People are running, screaming as gunshots echo around us, glass shattering everywhere. I know what's coming next.

A man runs inside, anger clearly visible in his eyes, aiming for me. But Maria falls. My vision begins to falter and fade away. I'm reliving it all, but instead she's blaming me, screaming on the top of her lungs. Suddenly this stinging pain begins on the left side of my face. That’s when I wake up, with my scar burning on the side of my face, I can hardly breathe.  

In my mind I know what's going to happen, but as I'm sleeping, my body fails to move.

__________

LEON

I silently feel the words of what Hirosha is talking about. The pages which gives the details of what exactly happened on the night of her death are torn out. Also, he mentions a scar which I'm predicting he got the same night she died. I can't even imagine or begin to comprehend what must've been going through his mind. Or to see someone so close to you pass away in your arms. To me it sounds like he was in love, heavily in love. I don't want to hear or read anything about it. The atmosphere we're in seems calm and collected. I still feel unease being in the same room as our Uncle Dean. Kaiden has already raised the issue, but I just thought he was being paranoid but I don't know what to believe. I'm just waiting, waiting for a page to give us a reason to be here.

Kaiden loves being here. I haven't seen him this happy in a while. I don't feel the need to express myself right now, especially after Roselyn. It's just that everything I see reminds me of her. It drives me insane and likewise Kaiden. She was one of those girls who loved their coffee shops. Everywhere we pass there's a shop. I'm sure if she was at her most desperate she would call me in the late hours just to get her a Frappuccino on the way home. Or something for her a school after she stayed up too late, on a school night, coincidentally being the date, we had a Math exam. I remember so much in just a small space of time. A timeline of weeks and months, just flash past my eyes in seconds. 

‘Distractions are good, distractions are easy.’ Kaiden says. But that is all that they are to do. To distract. The real problems will catch up with you. Then looking back those distractions seem stupid, because you're still dealing with the problem at hand. 

All I know is that we have to keep reading, I need to find closure, or something worth more behind these pages. He leads, we follow. I have no idea where, but maybe that's the whole point of this. 

New York is a whole different place in daylight. Everything seems more alive, rushed but in silence. We blend in easily in the crowds, having no clear direction of what we're doing we just wonder aimlessly and take in the sights. 

____________

19 September

I should feel some kind of happiness by seeing my sister again. But I don't want her to see me like this. Sometimes Akira hears me calling out in my sleep. Just another effect of the 'trauma' I've experinced. I can't control anything. Now everything is this shade of blue, not black because there's still a way out, but blue. I feel like I'm going insane, just trapped in this house. I forgot the size since of this place because I've been gone for so long, now I find it daunting. Without a second thought, I get up and leave despite how late it is. 

The cool air is icy. Cold like snowflakes hitting your skin. but I don't feel the cold anymore. The trees rustle calmly in the breeze, the cold ground beneath my feet rubs painfully against my soles. Everything feels out of place. This is my home. All I've wanted is to be back here. Now that I'm here nothing makes sense. I gaze smugly at my surroundings. All these riches mean nothing if he's not here. 

___________

21 september

“I don’t want you like this around your sister.” 

Even though a man is blind, his debts are not excused. Everything will catch up with that man. He has carelessly committed an offense, knowing that consequences will follow, therefore he must pay for his actions.

All I want to do is sleep. I lack energy every day. My mother doesn’t believe in me anymore. I try to give the excuse that ‘I’m growing up’, or ‘I’m older now’, but she doesn’t believe me. She doesn’t see me anymore. She sees another man. Someone darker, someone who lacks meaning. Not her son. I can’t stand it. I can’t stand this. My anger is here. But I’m empty. I’m so tired I can’t even show it. I’m frozen.

I can't breathe. I've lost all meaning and reason. What pain is so bad, that I lose control? I can't feel anything. 

I let my fury show. I don’t remember what I said, all I know is it was anger directed to my Mother. Hurtful words all said in a sharp rush. She deserved to hear it, I wanted her to hear it. I lost control, now she’s seen true colours. I forgot everything, all I saw was the disappointment cast in her eyes. She doesn’t want me. All she sees, are my scars. Although the largest one on my right arm is concealed by my sleeve, it still manages to scream it's presence. I hope she never sees it. When I'm in he house I try my best to wear long sleeved shirts, and keep myself confined in my room to avoid anyone in the house seeing the damage done to my arms.

She wants me to see my father, but I know what her real aim is, just to taunt him to see what he’s done to me. I don’t mind seeing him, all my resentment has disappeared. Only, when I get there, he refuses to see me.

The house is shadowed with darkness, obscured out of sight. The moon hides behind the heavy shield of clouds. To think that this place held the most priceless memories in my mind, memories that stayed alive with me in Arabia, that kept me going, all meant nothing in reality. 

In these dark hours all I need is people around me. I track down my Uncle Ross, who is currently in America, and leave without informing anyone.