New Horizon
There is always a cool breeze blowing from the ocean, which is especially
refreshing to those who enjoy colder climate. However, some find the weather cold and they despise the rain and mist which are present most of the
year in this island. In a small room, the window facing the water is cracked open. A moist
breeze is pushing itself through the crack and makes the heavy load of blankets
covering Julie more appropriate. The rapidly brightening dim light brings her
back from a wild dream to an unconscious reality, which makes her bewildered for
a few minutes. She opens her eyes to see the light, and by scanning the room
she gets lost as to where the strange place she is surrounded with is. Right in
front of her and outside the window, is the vast ocean with a red and clean
globe rising out of the water, gently and with certain grace. A soft cloud of
mist and fog is evaporating from the ocean and covering parts of the sun
momentarily. She looks at the globe as the light emitting from it glows
brighter, to the point that it starts stinging her eyes. After a moment of
adjustment, her eyes are diverted to the room and some of the objects in it. The
aluminum window is old and dirty. A half broken half hanged set of horizontal
blinds are covering a small top portion of the window. The walls with no paint,
or what she considers to be whitewash, are short and surround the small room,
the window and the door. There is nothing in the room but two beds and several
blankets mostly on the beds, with a few of them fallen on the damp and untidy floor.
Little by little she remembers the events of the previous day, and
realizes where she is. She starts examining everything in the room with her
eyes, until she sees the other bed and the other woman who is assumed to be sleeping in it.
In fact, not only she is not sleeping, but her two piercing eyes are wide open
and staring at her. Julie startles for a second, followed by some undeliberated
words that abruptly come out of her mouth: “oh, hi Melody! There is light out.
There was light out when we came into this room yesterday. We might have slept
for over 12 hours. The sun just rose. Do you know what time we went to bed last
night?” The younger woman stopped looking at her as soon as Julie acknowledged
her with words, and responds by shaking her head for “no”. Her pillow is in a vertical
position and she is leaning her neck and head on it, while staring at the
blanket she has covered herself with. Julie seems to like to have a
conversation: “Did you have a nice sleep last night?” She shakes her head again
without looking at her. Julie gives the conversation another try: “I was so
tired yesterday that I don’t even remember when and for how long I slept. How
come you didn’t sleep? Were you cold?” She shakes her head again while her arms
are on the top of the blanket and she is folding and unfolding a piece of the
blanket with four fingers of both hands. Julie is not giving up: “what were you
thinking while you were awake?” Melody has no other choice but to respond with
the shortest sentence that comes to her head: “many things and nothing in
particular.”
-
Were you up the
whole night, or you kept falling sleep and waking up again?
-
Mostly awake.
-
Were you worried?
Did you have scary thoughts? What were you dreaming about?
-
You’re asking too
many questions!
-
I am trying to make
a conversation. When we were deciding about this room yesterday, you told me
that you preferred to have a company in your room. Being with someone else
requires communication. I have noticed that you prefer to keep it to yourself,
and I honor that. However, if you can share, is it as a result of a trauma that
you experienced or because of some other physical reasons, or have you always
been like this? You know that talking is the best therapy.
-
I have had a hard
life back there. I was punished when I talked about it. It is safer to keep it
to myself.
-
I absolutely respect
that. I just like to let you know that your secrets are safe with me. You can
talk to me whenever you decide to. I promise I will patiently listen without
making any comments or judgments.
Melody nods her head. The color of her face has turned pale and the
pace of folding and unfolding the blanket with her fingers is getting faster,
to the point that her whole upper body moves. Julie notices that and decides to
calm her down. Her voice becomes softer and gentler. She speaks quietly enforcing Melody to look at her while sharpening her ears.
-
I have had a hard
life out there too; and I don’t mind sharing them with you. My childhood was
one of neglect and abuse, the stories which I do not want to recall as they
refresh those nightmares. I was a good student in spite of all the madness around
me. I even made it through college, and right after that I landed a government
job in one of the county administrative offices. However, I have always been
haunted by my childhood experiences. Since I did not have a psychological
evaluation when I was younger, symptoms of many depression related ailments
started showing up at my early twenties. I have been diagnosed with many emotional
syndromes which prevented me from excelling in my career and declining into a
life of crime. I was so much used to be abused that from the time I left my
mother’s house, I had been making relationships with one abusive partner after
another. I could not take one’s violent relationship and would move on to find
solace in the arms of another sadistic partner, since I could never be in a
place alone. My last relationship landed me in prison with a life sentence.
Melody was all ears. For the first time she was looking at Julie’s
face. She discovered beautiful brown eyes which were no longer looking at her
but at some distant past, wet with sorrow, deep in an unmasked and scarred
face, surrounded by dark brown wavy hair. She could find traces of day old
makeup covering some of the scars, in addition to tips of some eyelashes. Julie’s bony shoulders
were curved and the point finger of her left hand has been rubbing on the back
of the right hand for the whole time she was talking. Meloy’s lips move a few
times in order to say something, but she cannot develop her statement. The
silence between the two is increasing from seconds to minutes, which is not
uncomfortable for either one. Julie is deep in her thought which is reflected
on her contorted face. Melody is used to, and somehow appreciates silence at
any given time and for any amount. However, she is not satisfied this time. Not
because of the silence, but an urge to say something to Julie to show her
appreciation of the trust, or at least to acknowledge her understanding of the
suffering person’s conditions. That is how she feels, but she cannot put it in
words. She finally makes a peeping noise, that is not heard by Julie as she is
deep into her own thoughts. Finally, Melody realizes that a question may have the
same effect: “Did you kill him?” It takes Julie a few seconds to reenter
present time: “did you say something?”
-
Did you kill him?
-
Yah!
They are separated by silence again. This time, the silence lasts
for a much longer period, and each of them detach herself from the tortured
body with minds traveling through years passed, in detail and in person. Each
is drowned in an ocean of memories removed from them by time and space, while
they are familiar with every drop of those memories. A knock on the door causes
their thoughts to suddenly stop, as if a flooded ocean confronting a concrete dam.
