Letter from Isabelle 5

This entry is for Writers Island: The Moment

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

Date: December 10, 2007
Dear L,

As the days slowly drifts by, the memories of you came rushing in. Now I remember you are gone, no longer connected to me. We were two pieces of pie cut from the same crust but now had turned into two different flavors. Me, now a dull strawberry short cake and you a rich cheese cake with inner flavors that only you can taste.

Am I making sense? I don't even know myself. My mind are full of scramble thoughts, thoughts that are suppose to make me understand and remember but they seem to lose its memento soon after they appear. Dr. R was not satisfied by my results. He still couldn't understand why I still cannot see. He thinks a week is too long a time but it felt like a day to me. I still couldn't remember much but you are still in my mind. Memories of you are still tuck in the corners, coming out at small intervals and keeping me partially whole.

I cried a lot but couldn't understand where the tears came from. I've forgotten so much. Everything that seem to make me sad are no longer there and yet when I think of you, I feel sad. But when I think of me and where my life is going, I feel isolated and can't remember why.

Another memory came to me yesterday. It was about old man who died on the train. I was on my way home from work. The sun was still out, shinning into the train. Everything inside the train seem to glow as I watched the surroundings. I turned to my left to see the old man sitting there. His head was slumped over to the side and his closed eyelids flicker with the movement of the train. I was one seat away from him.

He seem so peaceful. I thought he was sleeping. Other people seem to think so. One lady walked passed him to the seat next to him. She seem agitated by him when he didn't move to make room for her. Soon she left on the next stop.

I try not to look but couldn't help it. I couldn't move. I didn't want to move. I wasn't afraid. I've never seem a dead person before and yet I wasn't afraid. I find his face comforting somehow.

Soon a train conductor was called by someone. A man in a tan coat. It was still winter, late February. The man seem distraught and sadden by this old man. I couldn't help but noticed his green eyes blinking fast, was it tears? I'm wasn't sure.

I didn't look away as the old man was carry out of the train. The man in the tan coat helped the train conductor carried him out. I heard groans and angry sounds coming from the surrounding crowd.

I couldn't help but imagined it might have been me, sitting there, gone and no one noticed. I stepped out of the train, hoping to follow where he was being taken. Out of the train station and into an ambulance. I was rushing down the wooden stairs, almost missing a step but I had to follow. The man in the tan coat was in the ambulance with the old man. He was looking at me with his green eyes full of pain as they closed the ambulance doors. I waved without smiling. The sirens were silent as the ambulance drove away. I watched until it disappeared into the distance lines of the horizon. I stood there out in the cold for a while. I didn't know how long. But I felt my hands freezing up.

That poor old man. At least someone cared. Even if it was a stranger. I wondered if that was how they carried me out that day when I fell onto the tracks. I wondered if there was somebody who cared enough to ride in the ambulance with me. I wonder about a lot of things these days.

At that moment, I realized I had stopped thinking about you. I rushed home to look at photographs of you but they seem different. Your smiling face now a frown. Your bright eyes now dull with time. The curve of your jaws so smooth and round now seem to be rough and square. I pulled out the pictures and threw them into a wastebasket. I wanted to burn them but I couldn't. I took them out and put them back into the photo album. I kept one photo of you in my bag at all times since then.

Nurse Sara had been very kind and is still dictating my letters but I fear that I could not take care of myself when I get out of the hospital. I am so dependent on people these days. Still trying to grasp even the smallest memories of myself. I didn't just forget last week but almost my entire life had disappear from my mind and yet, you still remain, still hovering over me, almost protecting me. I kept imagining seeming your face telling me things will be okay. Nurse Sara had brought me your photo but I couldn't see you. I held it in my hand and I couldn't help but cry.

Isabelle