Our Stars that dance

THE REALITY

The cold wind blew in as I shivered and pulled my blanket closer. I knew that my window had once again been opened by my very smart cat who likes to go out for her nightly hunting.

I closed my eyes tightly and burrowed into the warm bed despite the heater in my room not making any change to warm up which I would say had been exposed to cold wind for hours.

Grumbling under my breath to cut off lily’s treats and kicking the blanket in frustration. I stomped my way up to the window which was wide open, and I could feel goosebumps when the cold wind suddenly gushed in and brushing against my skin.

Shivering, I closed the window, knowing Lily would be coming through the small door cut for her especially after we came to know about her nightly routine and smart of her after learning that the window is closed and meowing loudly in front of the front door as if she is going to die any second like she does right after having her treats five minutes ago.

I dragged my exhausted body to bed and jumped into the thick and warm blankets. Pulling the blanket up to my head and then closed my eyes.

But I couldn’t go back to sleep as it was gone despite feeling tired and with my mind wide awake.

After trying to make myself fall asleep, I gave up and sat up with my back against the pillow. I looked around the dark room as the scented candle which I had lit up last night had probably blown out.

There was nothing I could do as my phone had nothing which intriuged me these days. Turning on the nightstand lamp, I got down and walked up to my desk.

There were photos upon photos which I had printed out yesterday to put it in my journal. I guess I can work on my journal then.

Opening the second drawer of my desk, there were six books from the very first journal which I had started when I saw fourteen as I didn’t have anything fun to do while homeschooling. I took my recent book which I started this year.

I couldn’t believe how fast this time passes by as you feel like you just joined your kindergarten yesterday and the next day, here you are working in a cafe as an adult and writing in the journal in the age of your twenties.

From age six to age twenty, I feel like I had just grown up fast with my still wish to turn back time and go back.

I flipped an empty page then I started to work on my daily routine; writing my day, emotion and moods with the photo to go along with it to make it satisfactory and pretty.

This had now become one of my habits as I could open up to myself even when I was not able to discern my own feelings and spill out my secrets. Also, this book held the photos which are parts of my memories, and this journalling made me more passionate and keep up with my love for photography.

I smiled as I wrote what happened yesterday as I couldn’t the night before due to exhaustion from my work at the cafe; the one I own.

Yesterday, it was the birthday of one of my pack mates and he just turned seventeen. I baked him a cake at his friends’ request as I also love to bake things. The party to organized in my cafe which was a lot of work with young-blooded youths with so much enthusiasm. The writing they told me to write on the cake. It was humorous and cute at the same time.

Cutting the photo in a perfect size to fit on to the space and then pasting it before pressing it hard to make it stay.

Closing the lid, I once again reread what I had written and closing the book. I was about to put it on the other journals when the cherry red cover book with a bold title came into view.

When I was seventeen.

I took a sharp and long breath as I saw the book. Part of me hated and was scared to read but some parts wanted me to be brave and face it. That's my reality.

For three years, I was a coward putting it away and also not able to burn the book but this still held most of my heart.

Out of all the journals, this book held most of my dense emotions and empty pages. I couldn’t come up and continue it. Gently putting my recent journal on the top of the pile, I reached out for the book.

Running my hand on the title, my heart pained with intensity as I closed my eyes to keep from the tears and breathing shakily.

“Lula, you can do it.”

I slowly opened the book which I hadn’t had the strength to open for the past three years. When I read the first page there were words which I had written about my excitement at starting my photography class which I could take in my third year in Moon Academy which is equivalent to eleven grades in the human world.

Photography was something I wanted to pursue as my future career and something which held dear to me as this was introduced for the first time by my mother.

She always loved art, so photography was one of the things which she loved and passed on to me, unlike my brothers who didn’t share mutual love like her but as our father.

For first few pages contain my days at school and classes, as well as my day outs with Beatrice, my soul sister and best friend.

As I reached the start of the page which was innocent and full of glee and as pages went by, it became dense.

I could still feel the familiar emotion but with an intensity after reading my confession. The tears rolled down uncontrollably and nonstop reading what I had gone through.

I reached the last page and smiled despite the pain as I ran my fingers along the photo and the writing which had smudged with the tears.

It was just a mess on this page with so many smudged writings and the photo which I had crookedly pasted. I remember that day, I cried while pouring out my heart and tears blinding my vision and my mind could not be able to think what I was doing but somehow, I got the photo pasted and wrote something.

When turning to the next page, there was nothing. Just empty pages and pages which are half of the book.

Closing the book, I shoved inside the drawer and closed it quickly. Wiping the tears with the back of my hands, I guess it would be a better idea to go back to sleep for a few hours before going to the cafe.

I lay on the bed and pulled the blanket closer to me. Unwilling I cried. Pouring out the pending and new sorrow.

Why? Why does it still hurt?