Immortale

Episode 1 - Anew: Part 1

2010-03-14T02:11:00.002+02:00

So this is how a new beginning feels like:

Empty.

I look outside through the tall windows of my new apartment overlooking Bell Street.

The numbness that has prevailed ever since my father's funeral is right here behind me. It clutches my head with its sharp talons and squeezes continiously so that I can't think. I can't recall. I can't cry.

The worst part begins when the guests who tend to frequent your house after the funeral start showing up less and less. With each day, silence grows around you, enveloping you in an abyss that echoes your loss. You try to shut your ears to that devious sound only to realize that it is in your head. It forces you to hear, forces you to accept.

At first, it only reminds you of your pain. That is the hardest part anyway. Then, it leaves your body, only to begin hovering over your head and benumb you. You live as if all has been a dream, that you haven't lost someone you loved, forever. This comes after long hours/days of either crying or making a fool of yourself, depending on your way of putting up with the pain. I guess this is also when you feel a crust is forming inside somewhere. When the crust falls, you have another scar that will always be there although it doesn't hurt any longer.

Somewhere out there a church bell rings.

My acceptance to Attica City University had arrived a week before my father died.

It is of no use to deny the fact that I was accepted to ACU through my dad's influence at first place. He taught a semester here and, having been deeply effected by the city's eccentric architectural texture, fervently proposed our relocating in this city upon his return. This was almost 5 years ago. Although his enthusiasm in the subject died gradually, I had to admit that even I was thrilled by the pictures he had taken.

During a laid back Sunday breakfast, he told me that the island community who first settled here in the 18th century were English protestants seeking religious liberty. Among them were great artists and architects who successfully shaped the Neo-Gothic and Neo-Baroque characteristics of the town. The community itself became extremely proud of the unique look and fabric of their home and passed their protective genes on to their successors. As the town grew into a small city, it ended up being a popular touristic destination and continued to serve as a home to many an artist. ACU, its renowned college, has been famous for its art programs ever since it was completed in the 1950's and, as far as I know, is currently the only art nouveau structure rising in the outskirts of the city, overlooking the ocean. Its curvy edges contrasting with sharp towers, statues placed on the ledges and alcoves, lacy decorations, symbols, depictions, even faces carved into the walls of various faculties, delicate windows some of which are adorned with exquisite grates create a chillingly beautiful, fairy tale atmosphere.

ACU is the Muses' hideout whenever they wander away from mount Helicon.

It has been a week since the classes started; two weeks since I moved in to this studio apartment with the help of my nanny. It has been three weeks since I learned my father left me a generous amount of money in the bank; a month since he was gone.

The cool afternoon air whiffs in through the window and the undulating curtains lick my face. Down below, the narrow side street where sunlight fiddles with the shadows, gets ready to succumb to darkness. Someone shouts. A street dog barks in reply. The lamp posts will be lit soon.

I should be excited, but I am not. I want to move on, but I can't.

So this is how a new beginning feels like:

Empty.

Episode 0 - Prologue: Part II

2009-09-06T21:56:00.004+03:00

April 15, 2009

Dear Ms. Fallon Mathews,

Congratulations on your acceptance to Attica City University as a freshman for Fall 2009. We are confident that you will continue to excel in your studies and contribute to the ACU community in meaningful and significant ways.

Our decision to admit you was made after assessing many criteria the most important of which was your fascinating academic performance. Hence, your admission is contingent upon your continued success in the program you presented to us in your application.

Enclosed, you will find the necessary documents regarding your enrollment. Please read them all carefully and return all forms and enrollment fee in the enclosed envelope by June 5, 2009. If you are seeking on-campus residence, the enclosed housing application must be returned to the Residence Department. Please note that priority for room assignments is based on the date your housing application is received.

Once again, I extend my congratulations on your admission to Attica City University, best wishes for a thriving collegiate experience and welcome you to ACU family.

Sincerely,

Henry Farrell
Director of Admission

Episode 0 - Prologue: Part I

2009-08-30T15:03:00.007+03:00

Finally, I am all alone...

... and I am scared as hell.

Raindrops accompanying the grey skies only enhance the misery of the moment. The bitterness in my heart... I can almost taste it in my mouth. Where will I go from here? What will I do now? I wish I knew the answers. Answers that always hide when you most need them and are too weary to play hide-and-seek.

The umbrella my aunt holds above my head and her bony hand around my shoulder do not provide any shelter or comfort. People in the graveyard, gathered to witness my father's last journey, only seem like shadows around one's bed at night. Are they there to keep company throughout a peaceful night's sleep or do they actually foretell the nightmares that await? You never know.

This is the first time in 21 years that I am without him. My protector, my only friend, my sanctuary... The words spilling into the air through the priest's mouth dissipate in the cool, fall wind. I know it well enough that words mean little. I do not care where my father is going or will be in the coming days, months, years...

The thought of years bring tears in my eyes.

A knife presses in my throat forcing a sob out of me. I do not yield to it.

I just want him back, standing right where my aunt is and telling me what to do. Is that so wrong? Is that too much to ask? It feels as if all of a sudden, I am shoved forward on the street and a door closed behind me. Behind that door, there is comfort, coziness, warmth and security.

Behind that door, it was home.

If I can't go back in where will I go?

I feel my insides trembling with silenced opposition as the coffin is lowered into the ground. I hate to make a scene. I know that this moist cloud of silhouettes expect me to shed tears of gloom. How come people wait for you to suffer openly and tend to get disappointed when you don't? I want to run and hide, crawl and shout, cry myself dry and fall asleep until I can't cry any longer. I just want to do it all by myself. I don't need the company of pitying stares to justify my pain.

I don't want to share my pain. It is all mine!

The ground gets muddier. The priest says his last prayers. I take a step forward and cast one last look on the creamy white coffin. It is his home now. I whisper "Bye..." and drop the pink carnation I have been holding as one last gift. Wet leaves scatter in the cool breeze. Shovels dig into the earth to begin their forlorn ceremony.

Then, the silhouettes break off one by one because the tie that binds them here is no more.

I hear my aunt's voice and feel her hand directing me forward. I resist. "Autumn?", she asks gently.

"I want to stay here a little longer", I reply, my voice dry as opposed to the tears welling up inside.

"We'll be by the car", she says and thrusts the umbrella in my cold hand. I nod. She leaves my side.

I watch the two men work and listen to the rain pattering on the umbrella. Everything is grey, everything is wet. I stand there a little longer, engulfed in memories that embrace me one after another. The handmade swing in the backyard, the bedtime stories, the smell of pancakes in the morning, the two comfy chairs across the fireplace, the mahogany table in the study, the two mugs that stand side by side on the kitchen counter...

Everything in that house says I am all alone now...

... and I am scared as hell.