beyond the horizon e

1

2 3

A story of two different people, a dreadful secret, a strong bond of friendship
and so many unanswered questions…
N.F. Nuzrah
ISBN 978-955-0028-51-1
1st Edition : 2015
© N.F. Nuzrah
Printed and Published by :
Neptune Publications (Pvt) Ltd
264/2B, Heenatikumbura Road, Battaramulla, Sri Lanka.
4 5

- ACKNOWLEDGEMENT -
To my family; Mamma, Brother and Aunt,
My school; Royal International School,
(especially, Managing Director, Ravinath Peiris)
English Teacher, Alex Perera,
School Librarian, J. M. Thishani Jayamaha,
My best friends and all who encouraged me and
believed in my capability
6 7

-FOREWORD-
Reading has been a passion of mine as long as I can remember and it was
with great pleasure I read this book. The best authors always bring their
characters to life and Nuzrah has done a very incredible job as a budding
writer.
I take this as an opportunity to say that it is much more an honour and
a privilege to see the birth of young authors and introduction of their
wonderful episodes in this present era where the literature is undergoing a
dark, threatening and fading situation.
I was delighted when I received a request from this young writer to write
a brief foreword to her the print of her first novel ‘Beyond the Horizon’.
She has showed an unquenchable thirst in reading since her childhood and
in course of time; I discovered what exactly she would do. The habit of
reading inspired her to write her own novel with her price to encourage
young readers of her age. I knew she will show up to the society as a
violet bloomed among mosses.
And this is the result of her dedicated, excellent hard working effort. I
admire her work and I wish her all the best and also I would like to express
sincere thanks for her most wonderful writing style. I whole heartedly
wish our young author Nuzrah success in her future endeavour.
Now turn the pages and immerse yourself in this wonderfully crafted story.
8 9

That one particular day when my neighbour came to pick me up, I knew that
the best thing of my life was on the way in a little place called ‘Labour Room’.
From the moment we arrived at the hospital I could not stand still. My
whole body was shaking with excitement. Finally, after hours of waiting
a nurse came out and said that I could go in. When I opened that door I
just did not know that I was in for a surprise. It was not just a brother but
a brother and a sister –twins.
- CLARA -
Rolling back and forth on the bed, lazy to get up, feeling the wonderful
day that waits to meet me. It is a warm sunny Sunday. Opening the
window, I feel the warmth of the sun wrap its glistening fingers over my
skin. I breathe in the fresh air that could soothe anyone within. “It is going
to be a great day,” I think.
“NO! YOU TWO DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT TOUCHING THAT
VASE,” screams Mom somewhere downstairs.
“Oh yeah it is going to be a great day,” I murmur to myself. It is not a
new thing for me. Always there is ‘the shouting’. Wonderful or not always
there is this shouting. I refer ‘the shouting’ to the argument between Mom
and my twin siblings.
* * *
Actually, I was not supposed to have twins as my siblings. What really
happened was that as a child, I always wished for a sibling. I did not want
to remain the only child in the family. Anyone would have understood my
excitement when I came to realize that Mom was pregnant when I was
nine. After the scanning test showed that Mom was expecting a boy Dad
and I were excited beyond words. We were like lunatics trying to purchase
all the best of things for our little new family guy.
After a few months everything was going wrong. I had to wake up in
the middle of the night to the impossible-to-tolerate wailings of the twins.
This went on for a few months. They seemed to earn all the attention
which made me jealous. Being the only child for the first ten years of my
life meant that I had little worry. They gave me all the attention but after
my siblings were born I felt as if they have stolen it from me.
After three years, I expected a break but I realised that my siblings were
only turning out to be more mischievous each day they grew up. They
really enjoyed destroying my things and tearing up my assignments. After
my continuous complaints Dad decided to give me a room of my own, and
that resolved the matter
I think most of all it was too hard for Mom especially after Dad had
to go to work after the first 2 months. She really love us all the same but
she has a quick temper and she gets furious at times. It is best to avoid a
Fast and Furious Mom [when she is around my siblings she really makes
fast moves such as quick catches of all the China my siblings push down
the cabinet]. Nevertheless, my twin siblings certainly think it is fun to be
around a furious Mom. Therefore, they really love seeing Mom angry and
this ended up in an everyday argument. Therefore, Dad and I named it ‘the
shouting’.
After the birth of my siblings, certainly many things changed in our
lives. Mom is always in a rage and Dad got into a silent mood.
* * *
10 11

By the minute, ‘the shouting’ is turning into ‘the screaming’. I get ready
and hurry down the stairway to the kitchen which rather looks like a
battlefield [may be the war ground looks even better]. The dining table
looks horrifying. The honey is spilt everywhere. There are bits of cereal
everywhere and milk poured all over the place. It is not new to me but it
always keeps on shocking me how things can completely turn into hell
within a span of a few minutes. As usual, my Dad is sitting in the far
side of the kitchen reading the daily newspaper. I greet my busy family
good morning. Dad looks up from his paper and greets cheerfully though
I know that he is so very irritated about ‘the shouting’. Mom on the other
hand greets me continuing her argument,
“I WON’T BUY YOU BOTH ANYTHING ANYMORE Good Morning
Clara! YOU BOTH ARE SUCH NAUGHTY BABIES…”
I would not make any more conversation with my Mom when she
is in her I-am-a-furious-and-flaming-mommy mood. However, it is the
opposite for my siblings. They love to annoy Mom. They want the fire
out of her. Sometimes it is very funny but at other times, it is better not to
involve.
I open the messed up refrigerator. I dig through and find the smashed
up cereal box. I carefully pick up a chair—milk or honey-proof—and eat
my breakfast silently.
Looking at the clock, the time reads 09:50. The hands of the clock
seem to be telling me something but I could not put my finger to what
exactly it is. I turn back to my breakfast. Then with a flash, I remember
what exactly I am supposed to do. With a sudden swish, my head turns
back to the clock then I remember “JOANA!”
I run out to the garden, picking up my bicycle, I ride the fastest I can
to the mall. There, standing on the sideway is Joana. With her red wavy
hair blowing in the wind and her face all red, she definitely looks angry
as a devil.
Joana Ellsworth [Jo for me] has been my best friend since year three.
She was so different from others but definitely, she is just right for me. I
think of her as a glamour girl. Anyone could ask her anything about new
clothes, cosmetics, or the brand new trends and she knows everything
about it. She has a fair complexion with little pink blushes in her cheeks
[that of course, when she is happy] which makes her red hair fit in well.
She has beautiful black pearl eyes.
At times when I am around her, I feel like I do not fit in with her. I am
very simple and I have no idea of how to use make-up exclusively or how
this trend of fashion works. Any way both of us get on well with each
other and I am happy about that. Being the best friend of a popular student
in the school is a big challenge for me. Joana unlike me is so very active.
She is very good at sports and is one of the students who gets the highest
marks. On the other hand, me, I am just one of the simplest or in other
words I can be referred to as a nerd- looking-girl-hanging-in-the-cornersof-the
library-stuck-with-a-book.
* * *
She looks at me as if she has turned into a statue. I sense that anger within
her I try to break it, “Well, Jo, I think it is double the boil in here. Wait a
second… You are steaming. Oh-ah you are going to explode. Hurry up!
We need to buy an ice-cream to put off this fire.” [Okay, I know I am not
good at cracking good jokes]
There is not a hint of a smile in her face. That means she is very angry.
An angry Joana is not a good sight. Sensing my unsuccessful attempt to
break her mood, I admit head down, “Sorry Jo. You know how much of an
over sleeper I am. Forgive me for being late.”
I raise my head and look into her face from the corner of my eyes. I can
see that her angry mood has now ceased. Suddenly, as if she was never
angry she pulls me into the mall. For I know what Joana is like, I straight
myself and we walk into the mall hand in hand together.
12 13

When we go into the mall, the whole place is crowded. Joana excuses
and retreats to the washroom [most probably to fix her makeup]. I go over
to take a seat in the main hall of the mall. Without my knowledge, my eyes
rover around, searching for a particular ‘someone’. That ‘someone’ is no
other than Mike Watson.
* * *
Mike Watson and I have been best friends even before we started
kindergarten. Actually, we came to know each other as family friends.
Mike’s parents and mine have known each other when they were in high
school. It is unbelievable that a friendship from high school lasted this
long that their children turned out to be friends too [guess that it was way
too strong than one can imagine]. Though I said that we have been best
friends, unlike the strong bond between my parents and his, our friendship
did not last long. Once we came to our teens, with no actual reason we
parted [or maybe there is a reason that I rather prefer not to bring into
light]. It is just that we went on our own paths and met new people; had
new dreams and we forgot that silver string of bond between us. Not
that the string was broken —just that we forgot it but it was still hidden
somewhere deep down within us.
When I talk of Mike one thing I will never forget is that I had a crush on
him. I still have it. Maybe it is more than a crush. Maybe it is that one thing
that everyone calls, “Love”. I do not know, but everywhere in Cortwales
are the memories of our teeny-weeny childhood. Especially the Cortwales
Centre Mall, which used to be our favourite hang-out. Our friendship is
a bond that is engraved in our memories. The Corner Ice-cream Parlour,
where we used to celebrate every day we achieved something, stands out.
Therefore, when flipping back the mind book of past memories it is no
big deal that I had a crush on him. I wish I had enough strength, enough
courage to admit it to him but it seems impossible. Who knows what he
has in mind. Maybe he just does not remember the memories we shared
or me anymore. Maybe he does not want to embarrass himself talking or
hanging out with me. Either way – to me — it is a bond with a tug from
only one side.
* * *
My eyes are always curious. They search things faster than I think they
can. Just there, near the fountain that flows inside the mall I see him with
a group of his friends. He is having an awesome time with his friends. His
smile is the one that really got all the girls drooling over him. “Maybe, just
maybe, I should try to talk to him,” I think. I stand up with all my courage
but hopelessly my mind once again discourages me. I think: “This is not
the right time. Maybe he does not remember us together, in those good old
days. What would his friends think of me? No, this isn’t my time.”
Even if I had changed my mind, I would not have it because just then
Joana returns from the washroom [By the way I have not told her about
my feelings for Mike “just family friends and best pal in the kindergarten”
that is what I told her and nothing more].
She has no idea that I have a crush on him neither do I want her to know.
I am sure that she would feel that it is a completely idiotic idea. I have no
idea whether he likes me or not. It has been a real long time since we had
as much as a conversation. There is no reason why he should remember
me. We have only been primary year friends.
I watch her as she makes her way to me. There seems to be a difference
in her face. Is it just my imagination? Did I see her eyes twinkle? Did I see
a satisfied heart smile on her lips? [That always happens when she sees
a guy she has a crush on]. She does not make a move to tell me anything
more than “Shopping time!” and neither do I ask. Nevertheless, I know
there is more than that.
14 15

changes the subject. She would listen to me with enthusiasm. That is such
a great quality that I wish I possessed. Whenever I put myself in trouble,
she is always there. Never complains or never leaves my side. Therefore,
I guess I am the luckiest person on earth.
* * *
- JOANA -
It is another school day. I wish the weekend lasts longer than school days
so I can get my hair a new look. I jump out of my bed. Put on my best
clothing and sit in front of the dressing table. A few brushes of pink blush
over my rosy cheeks, a slight coat of lip cream and a perfect look. Now I
am ready to school! The principal is going to kill me when he sees me. I
better stay under cover.
I heard the doorbell; sure enough, it is Clara. I say a quick goodbye to
my parents and both Clara and I walk to school though it is a long way.
* * *
Clara Hermiston is my best friend. We have been together since we were
about 9 or 10. It is a wonder that this friendship lasted so long. If I describe
Clara, she is just a simple, charming brunette with tanned complexion and
eyes that look like a sea of dark chocolate. She is a whole lot taller than I
am - actually, she could have made a nice model but it is not her in her list
of interests. What a pity!
Clara is such a wonderful friend. It is a wonder that she never got bored
around me. I do not mean that I am boring but to bore Clara is an easy task
since our tastes vary most of the time. Anyway, she never ignores me or
Walking down the street is the best way to get some attention but
unfortunately Clara does not like it but she does not complain and instead
she would say, “Walking is an healthy exercise.”
She asks me, “Jo, did you hear about the audition for the concert?”
I reply, “Of course, why not? You know what? This time, they let us
create our own event for the concert. It is named ‘Talent of Creation’.
Well, I am sure there would be a competition in that case, ‘coz only one of
those try outs would be selected and I am so excited. What do you think?”
“Hmm… I get your point. It is not a bad idea. Why not we give it a try?”
I nod encouragingly. When Clara gets an idea she will not let that go
without giving it her fullest effort.
When we enter into school, Cortwales Whitebernne School, the bulletin
board is all crowded with excited students.
* * *
Cortwales Whitebernne School alias CWS is where I began the wonderful
life I am living. Unlike Clara, I have been in this school only since year 3.
I can never forget one thing that happened here. Actually, I was not so
popular in the first few years I spent in this school. It was more horrible
than simple. The first day I came to this school was a nightmare. I was
so fragile and so small for my age. No one even cared if I felt left out.
My grades went from brilliant to weak. I was so confused. My head was
mixed up. One day two well-built girls from the same year as I am started
16 17

ullying me. Tearing my books, stealing my stuff and even they asked
[actually forced me rather than asked] me to do their assignments and
homework. It was frustrating but I had nothing else to do than what they
asked. I simply feared them.
One day I could not take it anymore. I ran away to the far side of the
school lot. I sat down on the rough ground burying my face under my arms
and I started crying. It was so hard for me. I felt like I wanted to kill myself
but fortunately I did not approve of suicidal attempts. That was when my
life changed. Unexpectedly a warm hand caught me by surprise. I was
alarmed, not shocked just alarmed because that hand was not scaring me,
it was just comforting me. I looked up at the person - who I did not realize
then I will have to look up to - and it changed my life forever. It was a
girl, who looked the same age as I am but much taller than me. She, in a
soothing voice told me, “I am Clara. I am not going to hurt you. Please
don’t cry. I saw all those horrible things they did to you. Don’t worry. No
one would hurt you anymore. Would u like to play with me?”
I still, cannot figure out the reason why but a strong feeling convinced
me that I should believe her words, so strong that I forgot all the horrible
things that I felt for the last few months.
She held out her hand like an angel from heaven. I followed her to play.
She cheerfully introduced me to her friends but I knew that not every one
of them were as pleased as she was to know me. I remember less of her
friends. All my attention was ONLY on Clara, my Angel friend. After 2
years, I started to improve my grades but still my mind kept wandering.
I was not feeling interested in doing anything at all. One day I explained
to Clara my problems. She encouraged me, “Joana, look at yourself. You
do not look freaky or anything it is just your imagination. You can try
anything and everything if you have the will and the confidence. You only
need to think, ‘I can do it’ even if you fail you can be satisfied that you
have tried and you can learn from every mistake you make. Feel free to
listen to your heart for a minute. It is worth it.”
I felt a small glow within me. How those simple words gave me light
to my future is a miracle. I told her that I would try for her sake.
She made me take part in the tryouts for a running sports competition. I
kept on disagreeing with her but she forced me into doing it. The moment I
told Mother about taking part in the competition, I saw that happiest smile
on her face. The realization that all my depression had been a great burden
on my parents made me feel that guilt lump in my throat.
At the sports tryout field, a coach got down my name and my details.
He gave me a discouraging look as if he wanted to say, ‘Come on, Are you
crazy? You cannot do this. You look so fragile.’
However, he said nothing. He went on his way collecting facts from
other tryout competitors.
I saw my parents in the audience with all their emotions written on
their faces. They waved wildly to me and I nervously waved and smiled
at them. If I had been more self-conscious, I would have felt that act more
embarrassing. I saw that Mrs. Hermiston had also stayed to watch me run.
Moreover, of course, Clara too stayed for it was her idea that I got into the
mess. Anyway, I wanted to do my best. I did not want a disappointed look
on any of their faces.
After a few minutes, we were all ready to run. We were warming up,
soon enough we were on our marks and once the whistle was blown, we
were on the go. I started off slow pace, then into long strides and I was
reaching for the finishing line like a lightning bolt. My heart was racing,
sweat was pouring, I felt my veins ready to explode, my breath was caught
in my lungs and I was very nervous. For the first time I looked around.
Everyone was behind except two runners. One was running right beside
me with a smirk on her face while the other with a red t-shirt and blue
short was trying to catch up with me. I badly wanted to win this.
I was almost tired. My legs were paining. They needed to relax. I
wanted to stop running and breathe again properly. I was panting.
18 19

Suddenly I started to feel my legs give away. The two runners who came
by me overtook me. I felt hopeless. Just then, I heard Clara scream on top
of her lungs, “Joana you can do it! You can win!” I felt confidence build up
in me. I kept on repeating the words, “I can do anything and everything.”
Though my legs were screaming to stop, I wanted to win this. I wanted to
prove myself worthy to everyone and myself. I wanted the sports teacher
to know I was not fragile. I wanted everyone to look at me in a different
way. I wanted positive feelings. I pushed all my strength to my feet and
pushed myself in front. Before I knew, I caught up with the runner with a
smirk on her face. I saw her victory smile turn into a worried frown. I put
more speed. The finishing line was in sight. Hopes inside me grew even
stronger. I chanted in my mind, ‘I can win. I can win. I can win!”
I caught up with the red t-shirt and blue short girl. I passed her with
super speed and the finishing line was almost within reach when the red
t-shirt and blue shorts girl sprang past me with super-duper speed, into the
victory ribbon and past the finishing line, which was my goal, my dream,
my hope and everything. Next, I went in with her only for the second
place.
I felt bad about myself though it was only a tryout. I lost my dream
by just a few inches. If I had sprang myself higher. If I had been a little
bit taller with longer legs, I would have enjoyed the pride and the joy of
winning just like the runner with the red t-shirt and blue shorts did. She
was on the ground hugged by all her friends and family.
Clara ran up to me and hugged me tight making us both fly in the air
and fall back down on the ground. She was chanting in my ear, “You did
it. You did it. You did it. You did it.”
She got off me and jumped up and down very excited. She was
cheerfully shouting, “You won. You did it. I knew you could do it,”
My mother and father were there the next moment and were hugging
me endlessly. My mother was kissing my forehead and was crying,
laughing and appreciating all at the same time. My Dad was expressing
how proud he was of me. Then Mrs. Hermiston hugged me and said, “You
were showing your colours out there. It was fascinating that someone so
tiny could run this fast.”
Clara did not mind if I was in second or first place. I had tried my
best and that was what mattered. That was the moment I understood that
winning was not about being the best or the first, it was all about doing
your maximum and finishing what you started. I had won either way. After
3 days, I checked the bulletin board to check who were selected for the
running competition. I went through the names. There, in the second row
I saw my name. I rubbed my eyes once, twice. I looked in again carefully
but still my name was there. I was so excited and very happy. This proved
me worth it; all thanks to Clara.
* * *
It is hard to get anywhere near the bulletin board. So many of the students
were pulling and pushing each other to get a better view of something that
had the whole attention of the school. I guess it must be the auditions for
the events to be held on the concert. Clara suggests, “I guess we should
have to wait till the crowd disperses. I am sure if we go anywhere near that
we would not come out in one piece.”
Even though, my curiosity is killing me I have to agree with her. So
instead of standing there watching the excited students, we head to the
lockers. I grab the books I need for the day and stuff them in my bag. I
hear someone saying, “Whoa! Look at that crowd. Thank god, we just do
not have to die for a view of that notice. We already know what we should
do.”
Another voice that is so familiar continues, “I am sure our band can
really put on a show that nobody this year wants to forget. This time we
have a competition from The Dragons. We should really prove our band
worth it if we want to perform in the concert.”
20 21

That familiar heart-stealing voice is none other’s than Mike Watson’s
voice [he is the lead singer and the guitarist of the CWS band, The Flaming
Fires. A gothic band named The Dragons is in a shoulder-to-shoulder
competition with them but none of the other Cortwales bands can take that
special place that The Flaming Fires have made in the hearts of the fans].
* * *
Mike Watson, one of the cutest boys in the school, is so very popular.
I sometimes wish he were my boyfriend. It is not that he is only popular
it is his personality that most of the girls in the school drool over. Unlike
other boys, he takes things cool whether it is losing or winning it does not
matter to him. He just knows that he is trying. I think he is perfect in every
way. Clara knows many things about him. She told me that he was her
kindergarten best pal. I do not know whether to believe her or be surprised
because she does not talk much about him. Any way one thing I know is
that they are not much of friends anymore. It is a pity!
I guess I have a deep crush on him. A few days back I met him at the
mall. Unexpectedly I ran into him. I am sure I turned deep red. I apologized.
That was the first time I had talked to him. I introduced myself to him but
he told me that already he knew me. I was grinning like mad. Clara does
not know anything about my crush or that we met in the mall. I am sure
she would tease me about this for years if she knew my feelings for him.
I reply with my best voice, “Hey. I am great and thanks. So what you
been up to lately?”
He looks at his friends and says, “Just thought we would try out for the
band or something and what about you? You are trying out for something?”
I nod, “Yeah. Clara and I have been thinking of trying out for that
‘Talent of Creation’ thingy.”
“Clara?”
“Yeah, Clara is my best friend. I knew that you were her friend when
you were in kindergarten. You remember her still?”
He does not reply. I could sense that he is wondering about something
very deeply. As suddenly as the sense came, it was gone. He introduces
his friends, Joe and Max. They seem to have very active personalities. Joe
seems like a very funny guy with artistic skills and on the other hand, Max
seems more enthusiastic and sportive. However, I do not get the answer
for my question from Mike and I do not ask him further questions about
Clara. I am sure my aura is filled with curiosity; still I keep my question
to myself. It seems all fishy and confusing. Neither Clara nor Mike wants
to tell me their story.
* * *
On seeing Mike, my heart skips a beat. There is Joe Macvastar and Max
Bluewater by his side. Joe has dark brown hair and has green eyes, which
reminds me of a cute cat. Max too has dark brown hair with some strands
carrying hints of a touch of yellow.
Anyway, all my attention is on Mike. I do not know if he does remember
me. To my relief Mike looks at my direction, he smiles and waves, “Hey
Joana. How are you?”
22 23

I tell Mom, “Mom, I think I would have a night over at Joana’s house.
I have to talk to her about the audition for the concert. I will call her and
arrange for it.”
Mom nods and goes back to getting ready for the party. I call Joana’s
place, “Hello, Joana here,” she answers.
- CLARA -
“Clara, your Dad and I have been invited to a party from Dad’s office
so we have to go. I am leaving Diane and Jeffery [my siblings] at Aunt
Janet’s place. You know that I cannot trust your siblings with a baby sitter.
Do you have other plans? If not then you too will have to go there along
with your siblings.”
* * *
Aunt Janet is really a good person but the only creepy thing about her
is that she prefers to mess up my hair with her old hairstyles. A few years
back her left leg was amputated due to a cancer but along with it, she lost
most of her hair and as it seems the hair she lost never seems to grow than
a few strands. Just due to this very reason, she loves my hair. She once said
that my hair looks just like her hair used to be.
I cannot refuse her liking for my hair. It would be too rude if I said that
I do not like her messing up with my hair because I am sure those words
would hurt her and remind her of her beautiful youth which she lost due
to that monstrous disease.
* * *
“Hey! Jo, this is I, Clara. I wanted to check if you were free tonight. My
Mom is going out for an office party with Dad so I thought that we could have
a sleepover. We can even plan what we might do for the concert. Can I come?”
“Yeah, you can come over here tonight. Mother would be happy to have
you here. I am looking forward to it.”
I pack my pajamas with a notebook, few pens and some music CDs into
a bag. My parents drop me off at Joana’s on their way.
Mrs. Ellsworth welcomes me with her usual sweet smile, “Joana is in
her room, upstairs. Both of you come down for tea sharp at five okay? You
have one hour. I have your favourite chocolate cookies. Don’t miss them.”
In Joana’s room,I come to the point straight away, “What are you
planning for the audition? I thought of a drama.”
“I thought that we could sing a song with a dance and stuff.”
“That seems like a nice idea too but don’t you think it would be too
simple? Maybe we could provide some music and put up a mime show.
Not just any mime show, something really different, something that tells
you a story on a particular topic.”
“Hey! That is great. You mean a dramatic dance. This is a combination
of both of our ideas. It is a wonderful idea. I agree. So what is the music
we can use?”
“First let’s choose a topic then we could match up a music that would
go with the topic.”
24 25

She thinks for a moment and then jumps out of her bed exclaiming,
“Friendship, that is the first thing that came up on my mind.”
The truth is I was thinking the same thing but I did not tell at first
because I wanted to know what Joana had in her mind. I thought she was
going to jump out of the bed screaming, “FASHION.”
I pull out the CDs I brought with me, “It is awesome! I brought some
disks with me thinking just in case. Anyway it turns out to be useful.”
Joana brings out some of her music disks too. First, we check some
of the music she has with her but unfortunately, most of her music was
rock or pop which are too strong in tune and have no match to the idea
of FRIENDSHIP. Next, we try some of the music that I had brought with
me. Most of my music is too slow in beat that does not match up to a
dance.
We are almost to the point of giving up on these disks and going to
the store to check out for new music but at the last point, I notice one
disk, which stands out from all the other disks, on Joana’s pile. Most
of Joana’s Disk covers are pink, red, orange or magenta. However, this
particular Disk cover is white - a colour Joana does not like.
I pull it out. On the cover, written in wobbly hand writing ‘To Juana’.
When I see the name Juana, I know who had presented Joana that CD.
* * *
Joana’s grandmother calls her Juana because she thinks that Juana is a
fashionable name. However, I do not see the difference. It sounds similar
[maybe a little different]. Only the mouthing and the spelling is different.
I remember the disk. Joana received that disk on her 13th birthday.
This was the last present she got from her grandmother. Her grandmother
died a few weeks after her birthday. Though Joana never was close to
her grandmother as most grandchildren, her death was a huge slap on
Joana’s face. She regretted not being a good grandchild. She regretted
for not being with her grandmother, as she should have.
* * *
I look at the clock. There are 10 minutes to five. I hand over the disk
to Joana. For a while, she stares at the disk as if she does not know what
to do. Then she looks at me and again at the disk. She carefully opens the
disk case. Slowly she takes the disk out and puts it into the player. She
looks at the disk that disappears into the player with a worried a look as if
she might lose that disk in there forever.
I know what it feels like for her. I went through the same experience
when I knew that my grandmother was gone. There were moments in my
life that I used to take out everything that belonged to my grandmother and
hugged them close to me, breathing in the forgotten scents of love.I know
that she still regrets and misses her grandmother.I pat on her shoulder.
The music is old fashioned but very nice. Most of them are only melodies
without lyrics. One such music really seems to suit our idea, named ‘Changes’.
Joana nods, “Yeah this one sounds really good.” She looks down at the
disk case and whispers to the air, “Thank you granny.”
Mrs. Ellsworth shouts, “Hey girls, it is tea time. Come down. Hurry up.”
I pause the music and both of us run down to the dining table. The aroma
there is irresistible. The smell of fresh tea leaves, the beautifully decorated
cupcakes, not to forget my favourite tasty chocolate chip cookies and the
chocolate sauce that I love to use as a topping for the cookies. It makes me
want to jump saying, ‘Yummy’. I am already drooling. I take the first bite
and it melts in my mouth.
After tea, we get back to work. I replay ‘Changes’. We create a play.
Joana jots down the special and important facts. It turns out better than I
expected. It goes like this:
26 27

At the beginning, two girls enter into the scene. They hold hands
signifying friendship. They get into a fight. They feel angry at each other
and at a point sadness of losing a friend to win over their ego. They
experience the emptiness that takes over them without each other in their
lives. They yearn for their friendship. They give in for each other’s faults.
They walk out stage holding hands showing their re-union.
This is just the concept. There are many changes to be made. This is
not only a play for entertainment but also it has a moral. We work over our
expressions a few times repeatedly. Someone might say this is a child’s
play but to know what its meaning is they need brains. This is a lot more
like dance + play + moral + life.
Next, we work over the scenes and connect it with the music appropriately.
We just scribble these parts into Joana’s personal notebook. I can say for
sure that Joana is now weary. We stop planning for now and we take a
break. We choose a horror movie from the pile of disks Joana had bought
recently to suppress the stress.
Joana is already hugging me [or is it me hugging her?]. Either way
we curl up into a ball and pull our sheets up to our chin — almost hiding
our faces, [I think it is a good thing that the television is in her room
because that way we do not have to walk upstairs after the movie has us
all spooked out or hear a creak and feel goose bumps].
Once the movie is over, we get ourselves to sleep. If it were another
day, we would have been chatting all night but after all the working both
of us are exhausted. We turn off the lights and go to sleep, dreaming all the
best of things even after the horror - like, Mike Watson and mouthwatering
chocolate chip cookies.
- JOANA -
Yesterday with Clara around it was a wonderful day. Each hangout that
we had together is memorable in my mind and as clear as pure water.
Always it is great to be myself and goof around Clara, talking about all
the stuff from past to present, present to future. It is just because Clara
knows what to talk when and where. I have to agree that she is the type of
friend that anyone would die for [including me]. I have no idea of a life
without her. When I say; study then Clara, books again Clara, ideas its
Clara, friendship always Clara, school then no fun without Clara, actually
everything is Clara. She is more like my twin sister who-is-not-quite-likeme-but-more-like-me
[simply hard to explain].
Now we have been rehearsing for over a week. We use every spare
time we find to practice to perfection. Sometimes Clara tries to find time
to reflect but no, she is not allowed. I badly want to be selected for the
concert. In less than two days, the audition would be held.
Today I tell Clara, “Hey come to my place to practice okay?”
Clara frowns, “No, you come to my place.”
Like that, we argue for over 5 minutes and Clara gives in, “Okay,
whatever you win. I’ll be there exactly at 5.”
28 29

After she arrives, we take some time to concentrate on the music. Then
Clara rewinds and hits play. We practice our moves a few times. On our
fourth replay, Clara asks wearily, “Jo, do you really think this much of
practice is really needed? I mean, we are not even selected. It is just
the audition. It would be a shame if we do not get selected after all the
practicing. We would feel really bad.”
I think for a second, “So that is why we are sure to be selected. If we
don’t then it is our fate.”
We practice one more time and stop for the day. I am sure that we can
perform all the moves even without music exactly to the same beat, as it
would be to the music.
The next day both of us are too busy to find any time for practices but
we promise each other to try the individual practice session at home. I
know that we can do it.
THE AUDITION DAY!
* * *
I am running through all my classes without any knowledge of what I
am doing. I have not concentrated on anything that is taught today. I am
waiting for the last bell to ring announcing the beginning of the audition. I
badly want the last period to end but it is stretching so long that I wonder
if the bell has run out of its energy to ring. I count the seconds until I lose
track of the numbers.
Cccrrriiinggg
At last the bell rings making me jump out of my chair straight into the
corridor. I run to the locker room, stuff in my books, grab my bag and run
up to the hallway, where Clara promised to meet me. When I get there,
I see no sign of Clara. It makes me worry. “Has she forgotten about the
audition?”
I count every passing second. One… Two… Three… Four… Five…
Six… Seven… Eight… Nine… Ten…
Just then, Clara comes dashing up to me panting, “Sorry! The last lesson
was Gym. I had to run back, change and it took me some time to get here.”
She is sweating and she looks red-faced. She is so worked-out. I wonder
if she would be able to do her part correctly because she looks out of
breath. I frown saying, “You are ten seconds late. Why waste more time
talking? Let’s hurry.”
We get in just in time when the audition is about to start. The ‘Hall
of Talents’ – a room with a vast area, big enough to hold three thousand
seated people, where different shows, occasions, festivals, concerts,
talent shows, auditions and various events of the school are held – is not
completely filled. It surprises me. I expected to see the whole place filled
with competitors but there were only about 60 students and 20 events.
Clara gives our names. I get a place somewhere in the middle. I look
around for the first time to see who are going to compete with us. I am not
surprised to see Mike and his friends in the far corner in the first row. I try
to grab his attention but he is too absorbed in tuning his guitar. As Clara
told me, he is the lead guitarist.
Clara comes and sits beside me. There is not much talk around here but
I did hear one voice that makes my nerves run. It says boastingly, “I am
the best from all of these people and I am sure these judges have a taste
for my work.”
I slowly turn my head towards that voice and I am hoping that it is not
whom I think it is but unfortunately I am correct. It is Jane Houston.
Jane Houston, one of the most popular senior stars of the school. Most
people dare not compete with her because they know it is worthless. There
is no girl in school to challenge her beauty, her talent, her moves, her style,
her fashion or anything related to her – not even her hair. She is the best of
30 31

the best and everyone’s dream is to be her – including me.
At this very moment, I come to realize I have done the wrong thing
wanting to try out this event. It is going to be hopeless and I feel all my
confidence flow out of me. I know it is all in vain. I look at Clara for a
moment. She also has seen Jane but she does not seem to mind it that
much. She whispers comforting words in my ears. I think I look worse
than I thought I am. This is going to be a hard one but I know we have to
give it a try.
- CLARA -
In the Hall of Talents, the first thing I notice is Jane Houston, the Ms.
Perfect of the school. I do not want to lose hope seeing her. We might not
be the best of the best but we are here to try.
After I give our names, I take a seat next to her. Anyhow, I see that she
looks nervous and paler then I understand that she has noticed Jane and
she is freaking out. I really did expect to see such a behaviour from her
side because Jane is her dream star and she wants to be like her one day
but I rather like it when Joana is not pretending to be someone else.
I whisper in her ear, “Cool baby, and don’t lose your guts. This is all
about having fun. If we do not get this, at least we can try something else.
There is time. If you lose your hopes now, then you would lose this whole
thing forever. Pull yourself together. Everybody is so cool about this. So
why worry?”
She stares at me and I know the answer is going to be a NO but I am
wrong, “Maybe you are correct but I want this badly. Still, I’ll try.” That
is her reply.
I nod and she nods in reply. I look around a bit and notice Mike. I saw
his name in the band event but why is he trying for this too? He does not
32 33

look interested in this event but still he seems to have signed up for it.
Maybe someone forced him in to it. Who knows the minds of boys?
Unexpectedly he glances at me and I realize that I am staring at him. I
quickly look away but I know it is too late. I am sure he saw me staring
like a shocked buffalo at him. I blush. Still I cannot resist to sneak-a-peek.
I slowly turn to him. This time I am caught red handed! He is watching
me. He looks at me as if he wants to say something but I see his cheeks go
red and he turns back onto tuning his guitar [or pretends to].
I hope that Joana has not seen this. It would be too embarrassing! I turn
to her to make sure she has not noticed anything and to my relief she is
looking at Jane again.
The judges come on to the stage. The judges’ panel consist of 4 special
people; English teacher – Mr. Desman, The teacher in charge of creative
studies – Mrs. Hesston, Tenth grade teacher in charge of the drama club
– Ms. Cabriole and the teacher in charge of all the musical entertainment
and studies – Mr. Zelman. All of the judges are my favorite but I know for
sure, from their expressions, they are going to be hard on all of us.
The first contestants are performing a dual ballet. It is very good but
I can see that the judges expected something more than that. Mike and
his band go in as the eighth contestants. They perform one of my most
favourite songs, from slow music to rocking style. I feel like I am not
where I should be. I feel as if I am with them on stage. It is so fantastic.
For once, I think it’s another world.
Most of the contestants do a great job while a few do something too
simple to be done on a special occasion like this. Anyway, it turns out to
be far harder than I expected. Either way I am not ready to lose hope. The
next performance is done by Jane. When they call out her name to the
stage, I feel the whole atmosphere tense, especially Joana. Her eyes are
wide and her skin paler than ever as if she is going to be sick. Jane is the
lead in her group dancing. It is so spectacular. It is about the elements of
nature – wind, water, earth and fire. She is playing the part of wind. I am
dumbstruck. It is so good.
We are called in as the 12th contestants. I can feel my nervousness
tingling and my muscles frozen. I really want to do it good and great. I do
not want to mess it all up for the sake of Joana. She really wants it and I
am going to give it. The music starts and I do my parts just as I practiced
it with more confidence and strength. Before I know, we have finished,
bowing, and walking back to our seats.
For the first time since getting on to the stage, I look at the audience.
Some of them are whispering, some marveled, some – like Jane – are
frowning. I think we have done a good job. I dare to glance at Mike for a
split second and notice his smile wide. That is relief!
After 21 performances are judged, the judges rise from their seats. Mr.
Desman announces, “Dear contestants we need time to decide who would
be selected. We will put in a notice on the clipboard in two days’ time. On
behalf of the judges’ panel, I would like to thank you all for putting in a
great effort for performing such talented performances. Thank you and
good luck!”
We herd out of the hall and to the parking lot. Today Joana’s parents are
there to pick her up. Unfortunately, I cannot ask them for a lift like usual
because they are going to attend an official party and they have planned to
drop her at one of her aunts. I wave them good day. I stand there watching
them disappear.
* * *
I sit on a nearby bench wondering why no one had come to pick me
up. Just then, it hits me. I forgot to inform my Mom I was staying for
the audition. My parents would have thought that I had gone shopping
with Joana or something because they allow me to be out until 6.00 p.m.
I look at the time and am surprised to find out that it is already past 5.00
p.m. I look in my purse and find no money that could afford me a trip
34 35

ack home. I look at the parking lot and find no person to give me a lift.
I run to the administrative room to find it locked. I am sure my parents
will kill me for walking home at a time like this. With no choice, I decide
to walk home.
I enter the main street. Looking at the sky, I see the sun going down
and the sky already welcoming the darkness. I quicken my steps. I feel a
car behind me. I can hear the engine running slow so I am sure that it is
slowing down behind me. The hair on my back stands up. I remember all
those stories of being kidnapped or murdered in streets at times like these,
by unnamed serial killers for no particular reasons. I imagine a knife at my
throat about to cut off my windpipe. Unexpectedly, the car honks twice.
The feeling to run away is so intense that I cannot help myself clear my
mind. The car overtakes my steps and stops a few inches in front of me. I
gulp as a dark figure steps out of the car.
* * *
I realize it is Mike when he asks: “Hey Clara! Want a lift?”
Hiding my eagerness, I slowly nod. He opens the front door for me. It
surprises me because actually I want to get in the back. Anyway, I accept
his request and get in.
“Cool performance. You two did it great.”
I thank him. For a while, we do not talk. The emotions are so strong that
it brings tears to my eyes. I look away.
Breaking the silence he says, “‘Thought you have forgotten me after
all those times. I really wanted to talk to you but I feared that you might
ignore me. You know. I am sorry about what happened that day. I cannot
believe that I was so mean to you. The thing is that everyone in our group
did not like it when you hung out with her.”
I am shocked. I wonder ‘Why is he talking about the past?’
I choke the tears back and say, “Let’s not talk about it. What happened has
happened. We cannot change it now, no use of regretting. Anyway,‘FASC’
is no more ours it is only yours. I have no part in it. Anyway, she has
changed a lot and I think many of your members are hanging out with her.
I saw Ashley with her yesterday.”
By that time, we are by our house and he pulls up in the driveway. I get
out. He opens his mouth to say something but he is cut off by my Mom.
“Clara where do you think you have been! I almost called the police.
You scared me to death. Why could you have not called me? Now answer
me where were you?”
“Mom, I am sorry. I really forgot to mention it. It is the audition. I am
sorry. Joana went out of town today. I was thinking of coming home with
them but I completely forgot that her parents were going out and she was
to stay at her aunt’s.”
She frowns and turns to Mike and smiles, “Oh! This is Mike, isn’t he?
You have grown up so much that I could not recognize you at first. Look
at you! Not anything like you looked those days.”
Dad comes along, “Clary what took you so long?”
He looks at Mike, “Oh! Hey young man! Where have you been with
my daughter?”
Mike blushes. I get a shock, what is Dad talking about? I whine, “DAD!
This is Mike. He just gave me a lift. I had to stay for the concert audition
and I really forgot to tell you it was today.”
It is Dad’s turn to look surprised, “Oh God! I really could not recognize
you. I mistook you for my little girl’s heart-stealer. Sorry, son. Look how
tall you are? I cannot believe this. If it is not so late you can come in and
have a little chat like we used to.”
Mike accepts my Dad’s request. I say, “I am really tired. Goodnight!”
36 37

I pretend to be weary and go upstairs stomping on the steps but not all
the way up. I descend down slowly – silently — and sit on a step where
I can have a good view of what is going on downstairs while they would
never know I am sitting there. I wish that my naughty little twins would
not come running down the steps and give me away.
Dad asks, “So Mike, are your parents back? Last time I saw them they
told me that they would be going abroad for some business.”
I hear Mike reply, “They will not be coming back in about four weeks
or so. Unfortunately, I moved out of the house for the time being. Until
they return I am staying at the River Line Inn.”
Mom exclaims, “What! The River Line Inn! It empties your pocket
though there is nothing that satisfies a decent human. There are many
other places better than that. That place kills the human brain. Why did
you have to choose that place?”
Mike replies, “I understand that it is no place for a learning student or
any human who wants to keep his life but I have no choice. The other
places are more expensive. One advantage is that it is in the town square.
Anyway the food is not very expensive.”
Dad frowns, “Why didn’t you stay at home? It is much safer than it is
at that Inn.”
“I know but it is almost at the far corner of the city and it takes almost
45 minutes to come to the town square in an average speed but if I include
the bad state of the road it takes me more than an hour.”
Mom brings in the coffee and pours the cups for Dad and Mike saying,
“What you say seems to make sense. But I really disagree about your stay
at River Line Inn. It is a bad influence on youngsters. All those drunkards
and insane people roaming that place make me sick when I imagine you
walking into that hell of a place.”
Dad thinks for a moment, then replies with concern, “Mike, you have
been in our lives from the time you were born. You have spent many
countless days in this house with our family. Almost you make a good son
in this family. Why not you spend the days here until your parents return
trip? What do you say Alice?”
Mom smiles and says, “Of course, why not? I do not know why it did
not cross my mind. You have already passed as my own son. Move in for
the while. Bring in your things tomorrow. There is one room always free
for you upstairs opposite ours, next to Clara’s.”
Mike shakes his head, “No, I cannot do that. I am sorry. I am not putting
down your request. I already paid for the next 2 two weeks. Anyway, I am
already doing a part-time job just down that street. I took in the contract
for a week and there are six more days I have to work in, to complete the
contract.”
Mom nods, “I understand. So what? Come in after 2 weeks. You are
always welcome here. Understood? I already gave you the membership
in the family.”
Dad smiles, “Yeah. Come in anytime you want.”
Mike grins, “Thank you a lot Mr. and Mrs. Hermiston. You have always
been my second parents. Thanks. Now it is time I go, if it gets late I would
not be able to enter that place with the whole lot of the crowd. Thanks
again for your hospitality.”
He makes a quick glance upstairs, “Good night Mr. and Mrs. Hermiston.”
He makes another awkward glance up the stairs, “Umm… Let Clara know
I left”
With that, the conversation ends. My parents accompany Mike to the
doorway. I hear the engine come to life and imagine my parents waving at
him. The door opens and closes. I hear the lock turn. My Dad glances up
at my room, “I really thought that Clara had found her dream boy when
38 39

she stepped out of that car. I think I embarrassed both of them out there.
Whatever the reason is I am sure that Mike is – in a way – fond of our
little girl.”
Mom adds, “With all those secret glances and blushing and stammering.
There is something going on in those youthful minds. Anyway, Mike is
not a bad guy. That is the only reason why I agreed to your decision.”
Both of them stretch their lips in their I-know-what-you-are-thinking
grin. It makes my cheeks go pink to red. Enough of eavesdropping – I go
silently to my room and slowly shut my door without making a noise as
much as a click.
Changing into my PJs I start climbing into my bed and then all of a
sudden a fit of coughing gets me. I did not have any cough recently. This
is all of a sudden. The cough takes control of me. My body shudders. I feel
the world spinning around me. The taste of blood in my throat is intense.
I have no time to run to the sink so I vomit right in my room. I fight over
myself and take control of the cough. I wipe the remnants off my lips. I lay
my head on the wall yearning for its support over my weak body. I have
never felt this sick. I open my eyes and look down at my hands. Whatever
I vomited is red in color. It gives me a shock. I bring my hand closer to my
view in the darkness of my room. I should have guessed before. I vomited
blood.
* * *
I am sure I screamed. I stumble to the floor beside my bed. I see the
door swish open with both my parents standing on the doorway with an
expression of shock and horror and I hear Mom scream my name. That
is the last thing I see and hear before I black out and hit the cold floor.
All I can feel now is the faint beating of my heart and the realization that
whatever that happened is not a good sign.
- JOANA -
It really was good to see my aunt Mary yesterday. How much she loves
me. She would have actually made me be with her forever if not for my
parents. She is so much like me. When I am beside her, I get the feeling as
if she is Clara. So much of her seems familiar to me. I thought that I should
often visit my aunt. Everything that she cooked for me was so delicious
that I did not want to stop eating. She has her little cottage in a country.
By the cottage a small waterway flows. Her garden is so full of various
herbs, plants, and flowers that I have not even heard about or seen. She
even taught me what some herbs were used for.
What worries me is that she lived all alone. After her husband,
[my uncle] died in an accident she never married anyone. She has no
children. She is all by herself. The only ones who helped her go on with
her solitary life were the animals she bred and the plants she cared so
much about. She still whispers caring words to the plants and it surprises
me how they nod in the wind as if they understand what she meant.
Someone would have thought that she was mad [even I, myself thought
she was mad in the beginning] but she is so lovable. One day I might
have wanted to be like her but she is too simple for me. She is more like
a mother to me than an aunt.
* * *
40 41

Last night, when we left home it was almost past eleven. My mother
shooed me straight away to bed. I dropped on my bed and before I knew,
I was dreaming:
It was a dark room but the shocking surprise was that I could see at night.
I could see every detail of that room as if in daylight. I had the feeling that
there was someone else in the room. I turned around. There was a door.
The door opened and Clara was on the doorway. She smiled at me. What
a surprise! Both of us in the same dream! WOW! I returned her smile. All
of a sudden, her smile vanished, her lips curled, and there were tears in her
eyes. I wanted to comfort her but I was stuck to the place and I could not
move. She wiped off the tears. Fear was rising inside me. She opened her
mouth to say something but she closed it again. Just then out of nowhere
something dark, rather like smoke, surrounded and pulled her away from
me. She screamed, “Joana! Joana! Help me Joana!” I struggled to break
free. I wanted to help her but I could not move. She was pulled into the
darkness away from me. It seemed like away from me, forever.
* * *
I woke up. I was bathed in sweat. Tears were running down my cheeks.
I sobbed, for how long I do not know. I was scared. I was hopeless. I
wanted to erase that dream from my mind but the more I tried to forget
the more closer it attached to my memory. It seemed so real that for
once it made me think that Clara was in danger. I have heard that when
someone you loved is in danger then you feel it. It scared me to think
that Clara was in danger. To forget what happened I washed my face
with freezing and got on to the bed again. I glanced at the clock. It was
already one o’clock in the morning. I could not bring myself to sleep
again. One reason was the fear of seeing the same nightmare. The other
was the conscience that if I fall asleep I might not want to wake up to
feel the pain. What scared me most was to imagine that Clara and I were
drifting apart! Anyway, somewhere around two o’clock I was pulled into
an uncomfortable dreamless sleep.
Now, I walk towards Clara’s house. I have a bad feeling that she is not
going to come to school today. I ring the bell three times. No one answers.
It scares me. I do not know why they are not at home. She did not tell me
that she would be absent today. Once again, my memory pulls last night’s
nightmare. I shake my head and I think, ‘No, no, nothing would happen
to her. Maybe she left to school with her Mom, early. Yeah, that must be
the reason.’
I do not want to walk to school alone without Clara. Still, I walk to
the bus stand. There are some of my friends. I walk up to them and share
some of my latest fashion gossip. Ah! How much they loved to hear that
kind of stuff! Talking about a new brand of lip balm, I am distracted by the
awkward glances of Mike. I do not know why but my heart is struggling to
jump out of my chest. Once or twice, I return his glances. It is too much.
Why doesn’t he just come over and talk to me? But he does not make a
move. After waiting for an eternity, the bus arrives.
* * *
Once I get off the bus. I hurriedly walk to the benches where Clara
and I like to hang out. I expect to see her there but there is no Clara there.
I almost want to cry but I stand straight and make my way to the locker
room. I open my locker and suddenly an envelope falls out. It is blue. It is
one of Clara’s favorite colours.
Sometimes Clara uses my locker as I use hers. Most of her classes are
there on the side of my locker while most of mine are in her side [The
locker room is a long corridor with lockers stationed at both sides of the
corridor and there are three doors to enter into the locker room for easy
access to the lockers].
A flicker of hope springs in my heart. I think to myself, ‘Maybe Clara
left me a letter yesterday after the auditions saying that she will not come
today because she has to attend to some other important matter. Maybe
she forgot to mention it to me yesterday and so she left a message through
42 43

the slight opening between the locker and the locker door.’ I detach the
envelope and there inside is a neatly folded paper. I patiently unfold the
letter. The flicker of hope disappears at the first sight of the beginning of
the letter [Clara never uses dear when she writes to me]. She just uses My
best friend forever:
Dear _ _ a _ a,
To begin with, I really feel as if I do not have what it takes to even spell
your name. I personally wanted to give this to you but it is impossible for
me to come. At the same time, I do not want to be rejected. Even if you
accept my proposal, I would not be able to hold the joy. I really do not
know what to say. I am jumbled up in one mess. All I want you to know is
that I like you, something more than a friend does. I will not reveal myself
yet. I am not ready. I will just give you a clue: next year I am going to
college. Well, that is a stupid clue but still it is a clue. I will promise to
write to you soon.
Anonymous
The blanks are exactly enough to fill my name. Who is this Anonymous?
I cannot guess. I am so excited. I cannot wait to show this letter to Clara.
Wow! Who is this person? Do I know him? Probably YES! I will have to
wait for the next letter. I cannot wait to know who this person is. I do not
want to make any stupid guesses and later on feel bad that my guess was
wrong but this curiosity is the worst feeling I know. I have no option but
to wait.
- CLARA -
I slowly open my eyes. The light in the room almost blinds me. As soon
as I open them, I shut them back. All my senses are numb. I lay there
motionless for a moment. Once again, I open my eyes. Blinking a few
times, I make out a human figure. I am unable to recognize the person
because my eyes are so blurry. I rest one more time before I can completely
see all the details of the room. I figure out I am in the hospital. What am I
doing here? The memories of last night flood into my consciousness. What
has happened to me? I am seriously ill? I shut my questions out and focus
on the room. The room is white in colour. I am lying on a bed. I can hear
some kind of machine beeping next to me. I turn my head to my right.
There is a small table with various kinds of medicine placed in a tray. I
turn my head to the left. My mother is sitting by me. Her eyes closed, as
if she is praying. I do not disturb her. I wait for her to re-open her eyes.
It does not take long. “Oh, Clara you are awake! How do you feel?”
My mother’s voice is so rough as if she has been crying. My voice
is hoarse when I reply, “Not bad. I am actually fine. Just a little heavy
headed. So am I alright?”
My mother says, “Yeah you will be. The doctors are saying it would be
nothing to be scared of but still they did some checkups on you and they
44 45

have sent for a blood test. The results would be sent in a week or so. Don’t
worry.”
It is more as if she is reassuring herself than me. I wonder, ‘Oh Clara!
What is up with you? You were all right until last night. As your mother
says, are you really OK?’
* * *
By evening, they discharge me. What a relief it is to be out of the hospital!
Once I get home, the first thing I do is take a shower to get rid of the
yucky smell of medicines. Secondly, I give Joana a call. By the first ring,
Joana picks the phone, as if she was waiting for me to call her.
“Hello Joana! This is Clara.”
“Hey! Why didn’t you tell be that you were skipping school today?
You worried me so much.”
“I am really sorry. I got sick. I coughed blood last night. I was
unconscious until this morning. My parents took me to the hospital. Right
now, I am doing well but the doctor asked me to come over this Saturday
to give the results of the tests. Mom says there is nothing to worry.”
“You coughed blood? What happened?”
“Yes. I do not know. Maybe it is catarrh or something similar that we
should not worry about.”
“I am so very sorry. I did not know something was wrong. Are you OK?
You are coming tomorrow?”
“Yes, ‘am good. Yeah, of course I am. So how was school today?”
“Whoa… Today was good just like every day but I found something
that I badly want to show you. You will not believe it. I cannot explain it
to you over the phone. I will bring it to school tomorrow.”
“C’mon don’t be hard on me. Tell me. What is it?”
“Ok… Well… It is… No, no you will have to wait until tomorrow.
Curiosity is a good one for you.”
“Oh man! You are a mind-killer! If it is so, I will wait but only as long
as we get out of the house. Is it a deal?”
“Thank you! Yeah. Ok deal. See you tomorrow. Get well soon.”
After hanging up, I go into the kitchen and have a long sip of homemade
fresh lemonade. Until then I did not know how thirsty I was. As I finish the
drink, once again the phone rings. I think it must be Joana calling to say
that the deal is off and she is going to tell me what her secret is right away.
I run up to the phone, “Hello!”
A male voice replies, “Hello! Is this Clara?”
“Yeah it is me. Who is this?”
“Hey! Clary, this is me… Mike. Why were you not present today?”
MIKE? Why is he calling me? Oh my god! I stammer, “Um… ah…
hmm… Well, I was a little sick.”
There is silence on the other side then afterwards, “Is it? But you were
not home.”
What? He had checked on me. I reply, “Yeah. My parents took me to
the hospital. I just coughed some blood. It must be catarrh. It is nothing
to worry.”
“Get well soon. Everything is going to be good. How are you now?”
“I am well. Just a little heavy headed. It must be some medicine. Did
you check on me today?”
46 47

There is a long silence. For once, I think if he has hung up. Then in a
few seconds, “Uh… hmm… ah… I kind of…did.”
“Hmm…”
“Uh... Ok…I will hang up. Get well soon. Bye. See you tomorrow.”
I hang up. I grin. Whoa… Mike called me. Cool. Does he like me? He
might be. I wonder, ‘Hey! Did he call me Clary? [When we were together
those days he used to call me Clary] Wow. Something is up.’
I feel so weary after today’s events and I go to bed early. I feel that
tomorrow is going to be a great day.
- CLARA -
I slowly open my eyes. The light in the room almost blinds me. As soon
as I open them, I shut them back. All my senses are numb. I lay there
motionless for a moment. Once again, I open my eyes. Blinking a few
times, I make out a human figure. I am unable to recognize the person
because my eyes are so blurry. I rest one more time before I can completely
see all the details of the room. I figure out I am in the hospital. What am I
doing here? The memories of last night flood into my consciousness. What
has happened to me? I am seriously ill? I shut my questions out and focus
on the room. The room is white in colour. I am lying on a bed. I can hear
some kind of machine beeping next to me. I turn my head to my right.
There is a small table with various kinds of medicine placed in a tray. I
turn my head to the left. My mother is sitting by me. Her eyes closed, as
if she is praying. I do not disturb her. I wait for her to re-open her eyes.
It does not take long. “Oh, Clara you are awake! How do you feel?”
My mother’s voice is so rough as if she has been crying. My voice
is hoarse when I reply, “Not bad. I am actually fine. Just a little heavy
headed. So am I alright?”
My mother says, “Yeah you will be. The doctors are saying it would be
nothing to be scared of but still they did some checkups on you and they
48 49

have sent for a blood test. The results would be sent in a week or so. Don’t
worry.”
It is more as if she is reassuring herself than me. I wonder, ‘Oh Clara!
What is up with you? You were all right until last night. As your mother
says, are you really OK?’
* * *
By evening, they discharge me. What a relief it is to be out of the hospital!
Once I get home, the first thing I do is take a shower to get rid of the
yucky smell of medicines. Secondly, I give Joana a call. By the first ring,
Joana picks the phone, as if she was waiting for me to call her.
“Hello Joana! This is Clara.”
“Hey! Why didn’t you tell be that you were skipping school today?
You worried me so much.”
“I am really sorry. I got sick. I coughed blood last night. I was
unconscious until this morning. My parents took me to the hospital. Right
now, I am doing well but the doctor asked me to come over this Saturday
to give the results of the tests. Mom says there is nothing to worry.”
“You coughed blood? What happened?”
“Yes. I do not know. Maybe it is catarrh or something similar that we
should not worry about.”
“I am so very sorry. I did not know something was wrong. Are you OK?
You are coming tomorrow?”
“Yes, ‘am good. Yeah, of course I am. So how was school today?”
“Whoa… Today was good just like every day but I found something
that I badly want to show you. You will not believe it. I cannot explain it
to you over the phone. I will bring it to school tomorrow.”
“C’mon don’t be hard on me. Tell me. What is it?”
“Ok… Well… It is… No, no you will have to wait until tomorrow.
Curiosity is a good one for you.”
“Oh man! You are a mind-killer! If it is so, I will wait but only as long
as we get out of the house. Is it a deal?”
“Thank you! Yeah. Ok deal. See you tomorrow. Get well soon.”
After hanging up, I go into the kitchen and have a long sip of homemade
fresh lemonade. Until then I did not know how thirsty I was. As I finish the
drink, once again the phone rings. I think it must be Joana calling to say
that the deal is off and she is going to tell me what her secret is right away.
I run up to the phone, “Hello!”
A male voice replies, “Hello! Is this Clara?”
“Yeah it is me. Who is this?”
“Hey! Clary, this is me… Mike. Why were you not present today?”
MIKE? Why is he calling me? Oh my god! I stammer, “Um… ah…
hmm… Well, I was a little sick.”
There is silence on the other side then afterwards, “Is it? But you were
not home.”
What? He had checked on me. I reply, “Yeah. My parents took me to
the hospital. I just coughed some blood. It must be catarrh. It is nothing
to worry.”
“Get well soon. Everything is going to be good. How are you now?”
“I am well. Just a little heavy headed. It must be some medicine. Did
you check on me today?”
50 51

There is a long silence. For once, I think if he has hung up. Then in a
few seconds, “Uh… hmm… ah… I kind of…did.”
“Hmm…”
“Uh... Ok…I will hang up. Get well soon. Bye. See you tomorrow.”
I hang up. I grin. Whoa… Mike called me. Cool. Does he like me? He
might be. I wonder, ‘Hey! Did he call me Clary? [When we were together
those days he used to call me Clary] Wow. Something is up.’
I feel so weary after today’s events and I go to bed early. I feel that
tomorrow is going to be a great day.
- CLARA -
Whoa… We made it. We are selected. What a wonderful feeling! The
surprise was that Jane was also selected. Why bother about it? We were
chosen and that was the best thing that could happen. Anyway, today I
have to go shopping with Joana, the worst thing in the world. OMG! I am
sure it will take hours.
As we agreed, I meet Joana at the gate. Together we walk towards the
bus stand. We make it just in time for the bus. Unfortunately, we do not
get seats to sit by each other. I take the seat in the front. Joana sits in the
third row to my right. Within 15 minutes, we reach the stop where we get
off the bus.
There, right in front of us, is the dress shop with the name
‘GLAMOROUS LADIES’. This is the shop in which Joana shops usually.
She had made some friends in and around. We walk into the building. The
smell of perfume in the room stifles my breath. I look around and notice
eye-catching dresses, blouses, jeans and almost every kind of clothing,
some that I am even unable to name. Joana walks to the nearest seat and
sits. I follow and take a seat in front of her.
Joana asks, “So what type of clothing are we going to buy?”
52 53

I have no idea about clothing for perfection. I shrug my shoulders and
say, “You know better than me about clothing. I think maybe a dress with
long frills. That way it would look good when we spin or turn ourselves,
the dress would flow around. Don’t you think?”
“Good idea. If the frills are glittery then with the night and the lights
it would be shining and glamorous. I like it that way. The frills should be
much longer than it should be so that they would brush the floor when we
walk.”
“Way to go! So let’s talk to one of the sales girls and work this out.”
Joana walks up to one of the salesgirls and gives her idea of the dress
style. The salesgirl creases her forehead. For a moment I think that she is
going to give ‘No’ for an answer but then she smiles, “I think there are
a few of those types of dresses. They must be in with the fancy dresses.
Follow me.”
We walk with her to the fancy dress section. The place stings my
eyes with every kind of shining clothing. We follow up and stop in the
corner of that section. There is a hanger with the glittery dresses, not more
than seven. Either way there are beautiful colours. The sales clerk looks
at Joana. Joana nods and she walks away. I pull out a marveling blue
dress. The sleeves are long and are made up of a net-like material. The
top is made of satin and a peacock adorns it with glittery sequence and
fabric. The frill is made up of a thicker type of net. There are glittery spiral
workings on it. There are two layers of linings made of satin. The dress
flows and is much longer than I am. In the back of the dress, there is zigzag
lace for the fitting of the dress. For the first time after taking that dress out
of the rack, I glance at Joana. She has chosen a pink dress of the same style
as mine but a rose on the top instead of the peacock.
Joana agrees that we should try on the dress. We go into two fit on
rooms. I quickly peel off the outer dress and put on the new one. I pull
the lace at the back and after a few struggles I manage to knot it up.
I arrange the frills neatly and smooth it down. I look into the mirror. My
hair is messed up so much that it makes me look like a beggar in princess
clothing. The dress fits me right. It is so beautiful. Someone knocks on
my fit on room door. Joana’s voice asks, “Is it good? Show me yourself!”
I unlock the door and peer out. Shyly I bring myself out of the room. I
notice Joana in her pink dress. She is pretty. The dress is perfect on her.
She always is. I am not sure that I am even quarter as good as she is.
I hear a gasp. I startle. For one second I think, ‘Is something wrong the
way I have worn it. Have I worn this thing front on back?’
To my relief Joana exclaims, “OMG! Look at you! You look as if you
are right out of a fairytale. I have to admit your hair is messy but we can
put it as the pretty-princess-with-the-messy-hair.”
I have to laugh at that. I ask, “Is it any good?”
“It is perfect! Let us buy this. How do I look?”
“You are as pretty as always. Maybe you are a little better than always.”
We change back into our casuals. We walk up to the cashier. The sales
clerk, who helped us smiles, pointing at our choices and thumbs-up. We
look at the watch. Oh my goodness! It is almost past five! I really lost track
of time in the shop. I tell Joana about my situation. We quickly pack-up the
things we bought and run up to the nearest stop.
* * *
We have been standing for almost 15 minutes but no bus comes by,
Joana suggests we take a taxi but we have not enough money to hire one.
The dress was so expensive that we had to spend more money than we
expected to.
The darkness is starting to fall. Like that last time I imagine all the
drunkards and crazy people around the corners. The hair on my back
54 55

stands when a car stops in front of us. I stand wide-eyed. I blink twice.
A familiarity floods my mind. To my gladness, it is Mike again. Is he
following us around? He gets out of the car and walks up to us, “Hey girls!
Seems like you missed the bus, ah? Lucky you met me, want a lift?”
Joana looks at me. I nod. She nods too. Before he could offer me the
front seat, I get in at the back and make myself comfortable. Joana walks
up to the car. Pauses at the front door for three seconds or so, follows
my route, and takes a seat next to me in the back. In those three seconds,
my heart leaps a mile. Those three seconds were enough to give me a
hint that Joana might like Mike too. As soon as that idea brings jealousy
to my heart, I banish the thought cooling down myself, ‘Maybe she was
thinking if it was a good idea accepting Mike’s request for a lift.’ Mike
gets in. He looks at the empty seat beside him. He turns around and looks
at me. I shake my head slightly, so slightly that Jo does not notice. He gets
my signal. He looks at Joana and asks, “Want to come to the front seat? I
simply feel as if I am the carriage driver of these beautiful princesses. Do
you want me to be in that situation?”
This takes Joana by surprise. She looks at me wide-eyed. I shrug my
shoulders. She looks back at Mike. He smiles his cutest smile. She gets off
and takes the seat in the front. It is my turn to be surprised. The suspicious
feeling comes back. Mike pulls down the mirror in the front in such an
angle that he can see whoever is in the back. He raises his eyebrows as if
saying, ‘I told you to come to the front but you did not so she did.’ I roll
my eyes and I stop myself before I could put my tongue out. This simple
act floods me with the silly memories of the past.
I cut out of the memories of the past. I concentrate back into Joana and
Mike’s chatter. Until then I did not notice that we have almost reached
Joana’s place. Both of them are busy filling in each other about the latest
mobiles available. Joana does not in the least look nervous. I can sense
that she is almost flirting with him. The feeling is so strong that it brings
tears to my eyes. I cannot believe that she likes him. Why did I not notice
this before? Was I too involved with my crush on him that I did not see
my best friend has the same feelings toward him? I look out through the
window. The window is tinted in black but still you can see the outside
world but everything looks dull. My state seems the same; all dull. Does
Mike like her too?
I look at the pair. I do not know. Mike is that way with every girl so it
is hard to see his true emotions towards girls. The car stops. I look out. We
have reached Joana’s house. Joana says goodbyes. She winks and smiles
at me. I - with effort - manage a smile and a wave.
* * *
Now it is only him and me. He takes a few glances at me from the mirror.
The feeling is uncomfortable. Unexpectedly, he stops the car. He says,
“Clary, it is enough of the nonsense. Come back and join ‘FASC’. We
need you. ‘FASC’ is falling apart without you. You are the founder and
you alone can change the way it is.”
All the time he speaks, he does not look at me –neither directly nor
from the mirror. I shake my head, “It is not possible. It is almost 5 years.
We were little children, then, no more than 10. Since then you have taken
over. I cannot leave her. She is still that lonely child inside though she
looks grown up and comfortable now.”
“But she has enough support. Are you going to leave everything behind
because of her? What is she to you?”
“She is almost everything I need. Have you forgotten that I have already
left everything behind? She was bullied by people like us, the popular
kids. If I had told her I was one of the popular ones then would she have
overcome the fear of the popular kids and made herself for who she is
now? I don’t think so.”
“Yeah, but now she has enough experience. Now she is popular. But
where are you? Though we were popular, we never bullied. She has
groups of her own. She has people to care for her.”
56 57

“It is true but I have learnt the world. I have learnt that there is a life
beyond being popular. We might have not bullied others but we really did
think ourselves supreme. We have helped the kids who were like her but
once they turned out like us, they forgot what they really were. They just
simply forgot their beginning.”
“But it is no more that way. We do not think ourselves supreme
anymore. Since, you left us. We lost our strength with you leaving. We
need your support. Let’s get together and like in the old days help those
helpless ones.”
“I am sorry. I no more have the strength for that. I am nobody with an
identity of somebody. Give up persuading me. You know it is useless.”
I look him in the eye. He takes away his hand. For a moment, I think
of stepping out of the car and walking away but his eyes are pleading so
I shut the door. Rest of the five-minute drive to my home is a silent one. I
look at the time in my wristwatch. Just in time. We say each other goodbyes
with a smile.
* * *
But deep inside each of them there is a lot of pain, so many broken
dreams that never seem to stand a chance of coming true, how long will
their feelings, their secrets and their tears be kept locked deep down inside
them? How long will it take all the sorrow to reach the end?
“It is not useless. Ok, we will wait until you change your mind someday.
I have strong hopes that you will join back with us.”
“It is useless. Your people in FASC forgot their duty in FASC. There
is no use of me coming in to help. They will be just like that. They will
never change. If they have not changed all these few years then they will
not change now just because I am in action. Both of us grouped them for
the purpose of changing their lives and give them light but now they have
gained more light than they needed. They have been bullying. They have
been showing-off. It is not our objective.”
Mike sighs, “It is true and that is why we need you. We need to change
what we have changed into. You are the only one who has an influence
over them. They still do respect you.”
My temper is rising, “Stop this nonsense. Are you going to drop me or
shall I walk out on my own?”
I open the door. He turns himself around in this seat and grabs my hand,
“OK, OK I’ll stop for now. I will not bring up this topic for a while. I will
drop you.”
58 59

paper, and left it in the middle of the living room table, both of them were
surprised. They thanked me. Dad asked Mom to go out for lunch and come
back late after a Dad-style-surprise. Mom asked me if I wanted to join. My
reply “It is OK. Enjoy the day out. I will go to Aunt Mary’s.”
- JOANA -
Yesterday was the most wonderful day of my life. First, Clara and I went
shopping and we bought the most beautiful dress for the concert, second,
we were offered a lift by Mike and third, I went in the front seat with
Mike! Wow, wow, wow and wow again!
I guess Clara understood my crush towards Mike. I really did not want
her to know about that through this way but that was the easiest. I hope
Clara will support me on my crush. I would be very happy to find out what
she thinks about the match. In the meantime, I have to find out who this
Mr. Anonymous is and let him know I am interested in someone else – if
otherwise that Mr. Anonymous is Mike himself. I am so excited about this.
Maybe really Mike likes me after all. Who knows?
* * *
Today is my parents wedding anniversary. After last night’s shopping,
I am low on money so I present them with the gift I bought for Mom’s
birthday. It is an ornamental couple holding hands facing each other inside
a globe. Once you wind it, the couple goes in circles and a soothing music
plays.
This morning when I put it in a box, wrapped it in a red coloured glittery
Mother likes the idea so much that she smiles so widely that I think her
lips might just disappear. Sometimes I feel that I have interfered more in
their lives and never given them enough to pay that debt. I really want to
be what they wish me to be. I have no words to express what they really
mean to me.
My parents drop me at Aunt Mary’s place. Aunt Mary is so very glad
to have me at her place. Just like that last time today also we enter her
garden. She hands me over a pair of gloves, a raincoat-like-suit and a pair
of boots. I quickly put them on.
Just like last time we enjoy the day out. Aunt Mary teaches me how to
handle plants carefully and she teaches me how to whisper to the plants.
Most of the time when she asks a question the plants wave in the wind
nodding their heads, as if they agreed with whatever she said. It is such
a beautiful thing to see. I try it a few times but it seems they only submit
to my aunt’s voice and none other’s. Being with plants is such a good
feeling that it makes anyone forget all their feelings. Only the green lives
inside them. One will yearn for nothing but gently feel the green in their
fingertips. When the breeze touches the flowers and their leaves, they
waver as if they are also enjoying and dancing. It is so wonderful to see it.
After long hours in Aunt Mary’s beautiful garden, we step inside the
house for our tea break. The atmosphere inside the house is very cool.
There are some mint plants inside the house. I breathe in that cool air.
It smells of mint. I smile. I pull off the garden gloves and the garden
suit and seat myself in the parlour. Aunt Mary brings in some homemade
strawberry cupcakes and mint-scented tea. In the silence, we drink our tea
and enjoy the time in our own worlds.
60 61

After our teatime, we walk back into the garden, not to work but to
converse. In the edge of the garden, there is a bench and a swing tied to
a mango tree. Aunt chooses the bench and me, the swing. She asks me
about my school, friends, Clara, and family. I tell her stories about my
life. I wonder whom this swing is for. She has no children, she is too
old to swing and there are no neighbours close by. Aunt Mary is not the
social type of person. She is a loner. She has only herself, her kitchen,
her plants and her garden. This had been a troubling question for so long,
which I had felt uncomfortable asking. Now after knowing each other, my
curiosity has grown.
Last night I asked from my mother. She was reluctant at first but at
last, she told me. She told me that Aunt Mary was married and they lived
a happy life. After ten years of their marriage they were expecting a baby
and they were more than happy. According to Mom, Aunt Mary’s husband,
my uncle was the happiest out of the two. They had gone early shopping
for the baby. The doctors had confirmed it was a girl. They had bought all
sorts of girl stuff. At last, the day they were looking forward to arrived.
It had been a fight between life and death but anyhow the baby arrived.
Unfortunately, it had no luck to see the sun rise and set, the moon appear,
the stars of the night, a great mother and an ever-loving father. It was born
and born dead.
The shock hit my uncle like a wave. That baby was their greatest hope.
My uncle shut himself inside his room and neither ate, drank nor talked to
anyone. My aunt had cried day and night over their loss. However, she had
built courage and had given everything they had bought for their child to a
children’s charity. After that sorrowful month, when my aunt was sleeping
my uncle had sneaked out of the room and gone off on his own, never to
return again, never to be found. My aunt was down. My mother, her sister,
was the only comfort to her. At that very time, my mother was expecting
me. My aunt was not a bit jealous. She did everything to my mother to
help bring a healthy child out into the world and afterwards a baby girl
was born [me]. Was this coincidence or fate? None knows but God.
The true tale brings tears to my eyes whenever I remember it. I really
feel ashamed at myself for avoiding Aunt Mary for the past few years.
She had done so much for me and I, nothing for her. I do not bring up any
topic that might lead us to the word ‘baby’. It would pain me so much to
hurt my aunt.
That is the real reason why I wanted to come to my aunt’s place. We
do not talk much but the silence is enough to know what is in each other’s
mind.
When evening comes Aunt Mary arranges me a room. There are
only two bedrooms in the house. One is for her and the other for guests.
However, no guests visit her. When I enter the room, the first thing I see
is pink. There is a single bed and the sheet of the bed is pink and covered
with prints of red rose petals. The bed comes with two pillows and a huge
white furry teddy bear with a pink bow tied to its neck. Right beside the
bed there stands a table with a lamp with a pink shade. On one side of
the room is an enormous sliding window which gives a full view of the
garden. Close to the window is a study table with some paper and a whole
lot of crayons, pencils and pens and a study light. In the opposite side of
the room there is a wardrobe decorated with paper butterflies, bows, and
different types of other decorations that a little girl would love. The room
is carpeted with a pink carpet and is perfect and gorgeous.
The first thing that comes into my room when I enter is, ‘Wow! Aunt
Mary has arranged a room all for me. Exactly the way I love.’
After looking through, I know that it is not for me but for her stillborn
daughter. The tears spring into my eyes but I blink a few times and they’re
no more. There is not even a single spot of dust or dirt. It is well cleaned
and tidied up as if the room is occupied.
The moon is up and the sun down. I feel so tired after working hard
in the garden. I kiss my aunt good night and get into the bed. I pull the
blanket up to my chin and look out of the window. The moon is a thin
62 63

crescent. On the day of the concert, it will be full. I am so excited. I hope
we could start practicing again but the routine has already been by hearted
as if we had practiced for it a lifetime. A few hours of practice is enough to
perfect it like before. With so many hopes, wishes, and dreams I fall into
a peaceful deep sleep.
At some point at night a slender, tall, feminine figure enters the room and
draws the curtain close, kisses the cheeks of the comfortably sleeping girl,
puts back the hair that had fallen on to her face and watches her dream
while big tears drop on to her palms. The woman’s whispers are caught
in the stars filled darkness of the night and flows into the dreams of the
sleeping girl, “Joana, you were not born my daughter but you will always
be my daughter. I love you, my child.”
- CLARA -
Yesterday was Saturday. My Dad called the hospital to know if the results
of the tests had been received. They confirmed, so Dad, Mom and I went
to the hospital and left a babysitter for the twins. I was hoping that this
babysitter would survive until we got back home.
* * *
Usually babysitters are extremely awkward to babysit the twins. We are
unable to appoint a babysitter more than once because they do not want to
babysit the twins a second time. The twins cause such a lot of trouble that
many babysitters do not even want the money; they just run away right
after we return. The twins were three when they bathed the first babysitter
with honey. They were four when they dumped the garbage can on the
kitchen floor at the time of the second babysitter.
* * *
This is our fifth babysitter. I wished all the luck on my way out. It took
half an hour to reach the hospital. When we entered, there was no one in
the queue. Therefore, we were the first in. When we were almost by the
door, Mom stopped me and said, “Darling, you stay out.” She pointed to a
chair, “Sit down over there. It won’t take long.”
64 65

I began to protest but the look in her eye said that I should obey. So I
reluctantly sat down. I crossed my arms and frowned. Mom and Dad went
in. I counted to ten. It was too much to bear. I hate being curious. It was
time to react so I slowly pushed the door open, not much less than an inch
and hoped the door would not creak. Lucky me! It did not.
Inside the doctor was saying, “…At first, I really did not want to let you
know about this but I thought it over. I am sorry to break the news. I really
am. I wish it were not me saying this to you but this is the reality. Your
daughter is dying.”
The room inside was silent. The corridor was silent. It seemed as if
time had stopped and would never start again and I wished it would never
start again but Mom’s weep started it all up again. I could not see what
was happening inside but I knew Dad was hugging Mom closer to him
and soothing her and the doctor with that downcast look. Still, why didn’t
it shock me?
stammered a few times then said, “Five months, probably.” Once again,
Mom broke out and wept.
It was enough for me. I turned away, went back, and seated myself.
It took me a few minutes before it all came back to me. Now the word
‘Cancer’ began to process inside me. Everything seemed to blacken out.
The air was shut out and tears streamed. I could not breathe anymore. My
senses were dimming out. Before I passed out I screamed, “No” unlike last
time. It was a shout for hopelessness, lost dreams, my wants, unreached
goals, being separated and everything that I will never achieve. I just fell
into the darkness and the light was shut out of me. I felt strong arms grab
me before I fell on to the floor. With that, I was shut out of this world. As
if I had been cast away from the wide universe, my right to live was just
grabbed away from me like that. My hopes, my dreams and my interests
were dying and along with them, I was dying.
Dad asked, “What is it? Is there anything that could cure her? What
caused this?”
His voice was hoarse as if he was the one weeping instead of Mom.
Mom interrupted with some hope in her voice, “It does not matter how
much it costs. There is a medicine, isn’t there?”
The doctor replied, “It is cancer. It is Leukaemia. She has passed the
point where any hope could be had. She is in the advanced stages. Her
time has come. Sorry Mrs. Hermiston.”
Mom’s voice of hope was gone. She wept. She must have known things
about cancer since her sister had too. The doctor offered some coffee in
the intervals of her crying but she rejected every one of them. I do not
know how long she wept and Dad muffled and hushed her. Afterwards she
sniffed and asked, “How long more?”
The doctor must have been surprised at the sudden change because he
66 67

The words do not reassure me. I ask her, “Can I grab some of her books
so I can complete some of the lessons for her?”
- JOANA -
Two days had passed, Clara has not come to school yet, and she has not
even called. It is not like her. She never forgets to leave me a message. It
seems strange of her not to do so. I feel so troubled about this. She has
been acting a little strange for a while. However, this is the strangest of all.
On my way to school, I decide to go to her home so I set out earlier
than usual. The windows and the doors are closed. Still, I knock on the
door and cross my fingers, hoping someone would open the door. I stand
there for five minutes. It seems as if no one is home but the time I turn
around, I hear some footsteps so I knock on the door again. Before long,
a strange woman opens the door. No wait! It is no strange woman. It is
Mrs. Hermiston. I actually could not recognize her at first. Her eyes are
swollen, lips so thin, her body so fragile and her face tear-streaked. “Oh!
This is Joana. It seems such a long time since I saw you.”
Her voice is hoarse too. I have no time to think before I ask, “Where
is Clara? What has happened to her? Why has she been skipping school?”
She looks at me in an odd manner. One split second I think tears will
fill up her eyes but she replies, “Hmm… She is not well. She has been
admitted in the hospital for some check-ups but she will be back soon,
probably in another two days. Don’t worry.”
She nods her head but with some reluctance (not like her to do so. She
always welcomes guests). Anyway, I did not want to miss the chance of
entering her room. I quickly enter her room. I grab some of her books and
turn around to go out but something – something grabs my attention from
the corner of my eyes. I turn back. On her studying table is a book, like
none of the books that I knew she possessed. I pick up that book. On top is
written ‘MY BEST MEMORIES’. I guess it must be her diary. I know it is
bad manners to read someone else’s diary but I just cannot help it. I try to
open it but useless, it is locked. I look around for a key but again useless. I
put back the book on the table and hurry back to the bus stop.
Still after all the searching, I have 10 minutes left. There at the bus stop
my heart skips a beat. It is MIKE WATSON. He is chatting with some of
the girls there, flirty. I do not want him to know that I am having an eye on
him but still I cannot help but look at him. Some of the friends from my
gang move close to me and ‘ohh’s, and ‘uhh’s at my clothing. I glance at
Mike to see if he notices the commotion. Yes, he has. He glances at me the
same time I do. I feel myself blushing.
* * *
After school, unexpectedly Mike comes up to me. I just cannot look at
him in the eye. He has been watching me. Usually boys are that way when
they have something in their mind that they want to tell a girl. When he
comes up to me, I feel like WOW here we go. However, what he tells me
makes my world spin, spin, and never stop. The conversation starts:
“Hey Jo, How are you doing?”
“Hmm…I am good – really good. What about you?”
“Not bad but something has been worrying me for a while, you know?”
68 69

I blush a bit. I guess he saw that because he raises one of his eyebrows
(so cute). I ask, “What could that be?”
“Well, I don’t know from where I should start. Since Clary has not told
you anything about her past.”
Clara? I try to think of something that I actually know about her past
but nothing comes to mind. I look puzzled. He sighs, “Maybe it’s time you
know about her. It is a long story but it is worth knowing.”
* * * - MIKE -
Clara and I have been very old friends and the best. Our parents are
friends from college, they still are, and that is the way Clara and I got to
know each other. It was in year 2 we formed a society together. It was her
idea. We have always felt sorry for the weak. Many have been bullied
specially the newcomers so the real reason we started the society was to
help them. Make them feel as if they are one of us and for the ones who
were weak in various subjects. At first five members were in the society
Joe, Max, Alex and Tiara. We decided to make Clara the leader. She is
good at stuff like that. It soon turned into a Friends and Study Club, for
short FASC. The things were going good. The club was filled with many
members. Thereafter we had to break the club into Branches. By then
many members had developed into a much better stage than they were
when they first joined in so it was easier to appoint some leaders for the
Branches. It did not take that long for the changes to happen. It happened
in year 4. The members started to use their new selves and became popular
and the others followed suit. I did not mind it at all. I wish I did. Clara
hated this. She did not want this to happen. The main objective why she
started a society was to make this stop but then it has started to grow twice
the earlier amount. Whenever someone was bullied, started to show off or
torture someone she hated herself. Every time she saw injustice, she put
the fault on herself. She was stressed out. She was angry with herself. She
70 71

lost her humorous side and became serious day by day and it scared me to
see her feel bad.
One day she decided to put a stop to this. She told me that she wants to
have a meeting and pour some knowledge into the stupid brains but at that
time, I myself had a stupid brain. I persuaded her. I showed her the bright
side of the change but she refused to see it. She has always been stubborn.
Then one day you came along. She kept her eye on you – always. Then
Jennifer started to bully you. She wanted to scold her and protect you but
the members and I stopped her. She tried tolerating it but then one day
you started crying. Clara lost it then. She chose to make you one of us but
the members did not agree. However, she kept on persuading. Then the
members got together and tried to change her mind. It was hard so they
gave her two choices. One: Do not bring you into the club. Two: Clara
should go out of the club. Well – the second option was just a prank and
they expected her to choose number one but she saw it then and there that
nothing has changed.
I wipe the tears and ask, “Now, what is that you want to let me know?”
“Well – like I said before I really do not know how to tell you. I have
a crush on Clara. I have been in love with her forever and do not know if
she got the hint and I am so worried that she has not showed up at school
for two days. It is not like her to be absent.”
My heart stops beating. I feel this is a nightmare. Is this the truth or just
a nightmare actually? Once again, tears flow down my cheeks. I cannot
open my mouth so I just shrug. I turn away, run, run without stopping,
straight away home, and shut myself in my room. Just then, I wish that I
had some way to shut myself from everything.
I keep on crying. No one is at home so there is no one to comfort me.
My heart aches and there is no cure for it. My throat is burning but nothing
to cool it down. Everything I dreamt of is nothing anymore.
Therefore, she declared herself to be no more a member of the club.
Neither the founder nor have any acquaintances with any of the members
of the club. This shocked everyone. I tried my best to stop her but she was
Clara, wasn’t she? Everyone promised to change but she knew it would
never happen so she just left declaring me the next President of FASC,
never to step in with us.
* * *
The tears started to flow down my cheek. Joe, Max and Tiara are standing
next to Mike, now. They are extremely silent. Slowly and silently, they
move away. Mike says, “The reason why I told you that is because I have
to tell you something that is more important. Since the day she left I have
made changes and for a certain extent things are back to normal. Even
though, she had declared to be no more part of us. Many of the members
have been having an eye on her. Everyone still respects her because she
is a rare type.”
72 73

The doctor replies with some surprise, “Oh! I am so sorry. I did not
mean that way. I just wish it is so but unfortunately, it is not. The thing is
that we were wrong that she was in the advanced stage. She is in the worst
of all stages. She is not fighting hard enough. The thing is, it surprises us
that she has had not shown any symptoms until the few days back. The
time is closing in. She’s probably got only two months or, worse, less than
that.”
- CLARA -
I slowly gain consciousness but this time I feel weaker than the last time.
I cannot open my eyes. It feels as if my eyelids are glued shut. I try a few
times but I only waste my energy. I relax myself. Except for the sight, I
have gained back all my other senses. My sense of smell is enough to tell
me that I am in a hospital. The whole place smells of medicine and it is
strong. With my sense of touch, I can feel that I am laid upon a bed and
it is more comfortable than the last. My sense of taste tells me that the
doctors had forced in some medicine and it is bitter. Fourth, my hearing
makes it clearer that I am in a hospital. There are beeps and click sounds
everywhere. Someone comes into the room. I am not sure if it is one of my
parents, a doctor or a nurse. Whoever it is, the person closes the door with
much care. Soon after some else enters and shuts the door not carefully
as the first time. The conversation starts and it is clear that it is my father
and a doctor. The doctor says, “I checked the report and it seems we were
wrong about her cancer.”
Suddenly I feel relief. I think, “Yes! It means that I have no cancer. It
is just an error. Maybe they had mixed up my report with someone else’s.”
My father has the same relief, “You mean it is all an error, a mistake.
Nothing is going to happen to her right?”
My heart almost stops beating on hearing that. My whole body feels
numb but I do not want to feel weak. I do not want to cry. I just want
control over myself. I wait. The doctor leaves the room, I hear something
being pulled along the floor, and a hand holds mine. Until then I did not
know how cold I had been feeling. Dad’s hands are so warm. I just want
to cuddle in beside him and listen to his voice and nothing more. At this
moment there is nothing I want to see other than his face. With some
effort, I manage to open my eyes. As soon as I open, I close them. The
light is so strong. Again, I open my eyes but this time only a crack. I feel
the light and open them a little wider, then fully wide open. The whole
room is painted white and so many machines are placed around me. Dad
is seated next to me holding my hand with one of his. The other hand is
elbowed on the bed and is supporting his head. His eyes are closed and his
face looks rippled and old. There are tears rolling down his cheeks. Some
of them drop on to my hand, which looks white as snow in his hand. He
looks ragged and his clothes untidy and half-tucked.
It pains me to see him the way he looks. Usually Dad is the one who
has self-control. Dad is the role model of my life.
* * *
He is known by many names; to Mom as ‘Billy darling’, to best friends
as ‘Billy the Great’, to friends as ‘Billy dude’, to neighbours as ‘the Weird
one next door’, to relatives as ‘sunny Billy’, to everyone else as ‘Mr.
Hermiston’, to my siblings as ‘Daddy’ and to me as ‘Dad’.
74 75

He has been the greatest person in my life. Though he usually is never
at home, he is closer to me than Mom is. He had always enjoyed being the
happy one. It might be the hardest of all times. Whatever it is he never forgot
to keep smiling. Just seeing him smile is enough to make others smile,
especially me. I do not know how my parents met each other. They always
have the same likes and dislikes but sometimes it is as if they are completely
different. For example, Mom easily falls apart but Dad is always in control.
Dad is so silly at times but Mom is very serious. Anyway, they just got on
with each other and never had a row as far as I know.
He is patient and careful. He teaches the good. More than he teaches he
just makes us do it. We just gain experience. He is so different but always
the same. He is the best. He has never been rude, always kind, but that did
not stop us obeying him.
* * *
Now looking at him lose control is the hardest thing that I ever went
through. My throat is sore but with some effort I whisper, “Dad.” My
voice is so different, so different as if it does not belong to me anymore. I
squeeze his hands and it takes away all the energy I had.
He looks up at me. He looks so funny trying to hide his tears but he
does not wipe them away. He whispers back, “Don’t worry you are okay.
Nothing is going to happen to you.”
I shake my head and reply in a hoarse voice, “I overheard the
conversation, enough hiding.”
More tears stream down his cheek. He looks at my hands and returns
my squeeze. I ask, “Where is Mom?”
“Fell asleep in the lounge.”
I slightly nod. I do not know if he saw it. I close my eyes and whisper, “Get
some rest Dad. Don’t worry about me. Like you said I am fine by myself.”
I do not know if he responds. Even if he does, I do not hear it. I already
am sleeping sound and swimming in my darkest dreams.
* * *
I have lost track of time. It seems thousands of years since I last saw Jo.
It gives me a shock of pain to imagine her state. She must be so worried
so I decide to leave a message via Dad’s phone. I do not want her to figure
out that I am in a cancer hospital.
* * *
I do not want to have a sedentary lifestyle so after some argument
between the doctor and me I am allowed to get off the bed. The finale of
the argument made both my parents weep because my last words were, “I
want to walk free. I do not want to die like a caged bird.”
For the time period I have been in the hospital my heart has changed
solid and there are no more tears flowing down my cheek in the dark. I am
different and I can feel it. I have changed.
After my freedom, I get off the bed. It is a long process. It takes me some
time to get used to walking after the long hours of sleeping and resting and
I have almost forgotten how to walk – walk free. I take the support of the
walls to walk along the corridor. Then I come to a junction. I hear voices.
I take the path towards the voices. There is a room with many children,
approximately 15-20 children of different ages. Two of them seem to be
my age. One is a boy and the other a girl. The girl interests me. She is
completely bald. She is looking curiously at me.
I smile at her. She reluctantly approaches me. Her expression is so
dreamy as if she is under a spell. Two steps in front of me she stops and
bends her head in an angle to look at my face as if she is memorizing
my image. She slowly raises her hand and touches my faces. Her fingers
are cold but smooth. Seeing that I am not reacting, she comes one step
forward and tangles my brown curls around her fingers. Unusually, I do
76 77

not feel these actions any awkward.
All of a sudden, she looks around as if all this time she was out of reality.
She apologizes, “Oh! I am so sorry. I really did not mean it. I was just
taken away. I am really sorry.”
“Oh! No, no. It is okay. I actually did not mind it in the least. Anyway,
I am Clara Hermiston. And you are…?”
“I am Helena Wordsworth. You look weary. Come, have a seat. Maybe
if you are not in a hurry we can have a small chat if it is not a problem to
you.”
I do not see where the problem is so I walk to her bed and sit at the edge
while she climbs on to the bed and sits in a meditation-like position. She
seems so curious about me. For almost an endless half an hour she keeps
on asking questions about me. Unexpectedly I even put out my feelings
towards Mike. It is so extraordinary of me to be so chatty but she seems so
comforting that it provides me with the feeling that I can trust her. Then I
ask about her life. She reveals a sad story.
* * *
- HELENA -
It is a long story. Well – I just dread this disease. It all started to go wrong
two months back. Before those two months, I had an extremely beautiful
life. So much of fun and love was there in my life. I am an adopted child.
My parents died in a car accident when I was just an infant – or that is
what I was told. My aunt took me as her own child and provided me with
everything that I needed. One day I overheard a conversation that my aunt
was having over the phone. She was saying, “Jacque (that is my biological
father), I am sorry but I cannot let you have her. She thinks that you are
dead and let it be that way forever. She is living happily here with me.
Your wife – my sister lost her life because of you. If you had been a stable
man and not have dozed off that night she would have been living. It is
your fault, every bit of it.”
This was a great shock to me. My father was alive. All of a sudden, I
felt anger towards my aunt. She had been taking revenge on my father for
accidently dozing off.
There was a case filed and they gave me the choice to choose between
my aunt and father. I chose my father and this put a black mark on my aunt.
I found out that one of my father’s legs was lost in that accident. I went
in for a school. Made many new friends and life was great. I was popular.
I made a new best friend, Rosy Dash. She is so pretty, blond-haired, has
78 79

humour and is full of life. She was like a sister to me. She used to say
that my hair is a fluffy cloud, full of curls. Life was so extremely good –
actually too good. Then one day I found out father was an alcoholic. Week
after week he drank and soon he was out of mind and was blinded by this
temporary feeling of happiness.
I was afraid that I was going to lose him. I talked about this to Rosy.
She was a little disgusted over the fact but she promised to keep it a secret
between us. The next day I went to school, the promise was broken, half
of the school knew about it, and many made it a joke. Around that same
time, a virus broke out in the area and our school decided to have a blood
check-up on the students, just to be on the safe side. They took samples
of blood and hoped to turn in the report in three weeks’ time. When the
reports came, it was revealed that none of the students had been infected
by the virus, but worse, a very few students had other diseases and I fell
into that category. I found out that I had Leukaemia and I was in the most
advanced of all stages.
Father was out of touch with me though we were under one roof.
Therefore, I had to get the aid of my aunt. Even after all the disgusting
things I have done for her, she came forward to help me. She admitted me
to the hospital. In a few weeks, I was losing hair, a side effect that takes
place in many patients going through Chemotherapy. Afterwards I decided
to meet Rosy. She could not recognize me. She hated me. I saw it in her
eyes. She refused to touch me. She made jokes about me. She just drifted
away from me as far as possible.
I cried and cried but my tears brought me no joy. I wrote her many
letters. I called her everyday but there was no answer so I left thousands of
messages for her but she never replied. I just wanted to see her once, only
once. No one ever visits me but I do not care. At the beginning, everyone
came to visit me but not Rosy. Over time, it was only my aunt who came
to see me and then she stopped too. However, it did not pain me, all I am
worried is why Rosy cannot just visit me before I leave once and for all.
* * *
By the time she finishes her story my eyes are so watery. Tears stream
down my cheeks. I feel ashamed but I cannot help thinking ‘Oh God! It is
not me. Joana will never do that to me.’ I rather feel guilty about it.
* * *
It is a Friday and the doctors give the thumbs up so that I can go
home, but I will have to make a visit to the hospital thrice a week and
keep up with the medication. I just do not understand why my parents are
so worried even mentioning the word ‘die’. After all, I am cool myself or
am I?
All the way home, I am thinking of a way to survive the rest of my life
– which isn’t that long. My parents agree to lie about my sickness and my
absence and I am grateful for that. I just know that nothing would stop
me from dying. I know that I am going to lose everything that I loved and
everything I care for. It would be hard to die watching them suffer so I
decide that making everyone hate me could lessen the pain. It would be
hard but I know that when I am gone they would not miss and weep for
me. I do not want anyone to feel for me, as I am dead.
At last, we drive into our driveway. It is a nice feeling to go back to
where your heart belongs. To my surprise, I notice that Joana is also there.
I rather feel upset. I just do not know what to say. She looks all worn out
and tired. I do not know what to say. Anyway, my parents promised to
keep my sickness a secret and I hope it stays that way until the very last
moment. Joana walks up to me. I could say that she sees something in me
that has changed but I am not ready to give in.
Joana runs up to me, hugs me tightly, and whispers, “Oh Clara I missed
you so much. Your parents told me you were extremely allergic to
something and had to be taken into the hospital and there you had fever
and so weak to get off bed. I really wanted to visit you but your Dad
refused to take me to you. Anyway, I am so glad that you are all right
80 81

now. There is so much to say. At first when I saw you I actually could not
recognize you. You are so different.”
I want to cry there and spill out everything but I cannot. I just have to
deal with it myself. I pat her shoulder and break away her hug – it is not
like me. Joana looks at me in a strange manner but says no more. We go
into the house. Joana helps me. When we go in she says, “Clara I know
that it is no time for a conversation like this but I can’t help but tell it to
you now. I thought I would explode with excitement. Mike came up to me
two days back and told me he had a crush on you. Can you believe it? He
has a crush on you! You like him too, don’t you?”
that to her? She is my best friend! I fall asleep, tears streaming down my
cheeks. My heart knows what I am doing is not correct but my mind’s plan
wants everybody else to be happy when there is no more ‘me’.
My heart stops. I could not believe what she is saying. It seems like a
dream. Then something dark crosses my heart. It seems to say, “DEATH.”
In my living years, I have caused so much trouble to everyone so I am not
ready to pain anyone in my dying weeks. Therefore, I stick to my plan. I
turn around with a bored expression and reply in my most mocking voice,
“You too like him, don’t you? Ha-ha so funny as if I am going to get all
romantic over him. He is nothing to me. Don’t talk rubbish, Jo. Well – it
would be fun to give him a ‘yes’ and then afterwards we can dump him. It
would be a real fun to look at his face then.”
Joana looks shocked. I can see the pain in her eyes. I know that she is
hurt but I know no other way to make her hate me. It is going to be easy
this way. I have to agree what I said was ruder than I thought. It hurt me
more than anything did because my conscience knows that Mike is so
much to me. He is something in my heart.
I sigh, “Jo I am so tired, I feel a little weak, and I think I need some time
alone. We can make a plan on how to make a fool of him later, okay? Now
will you please leave? I need some rest.”
Joana looks even more hurt. There are tears in her eyes. Without a
word, she just leaves slamming the door behind. I lock myself in. I fall on
to the bed crying, hating myself for being so mean. How could I have done
82 83

- JOANA -
Clara has changed a lot over the past few weeks. She has changed not
only physically but mentally too. She is rude and mean. I just do not
understand it. I feel like this is not my Clara anymore. It seems as if over
the past few weeks Clara has been replaced by a robot dummy. It is so
hard to believe that things could change as much as that. I cannot even
be sure that this is my best friend who I have known for many years. My
heart stops at the memory of Mike when I had to tell him about the reply
Clara gave. I was never good at lying so I just had to tell him the truth. He
looked so desperate and sad. It hurt me so much as to look at him like that
so I just could not stop myself from running away. He must have thought
that act silly but I could not see him in such a position.
The next day Clara is fit enough to come to school. I hope that she has
changed back to herself but it is not so. I accompany her as I always have
done. I was wrong to think she had changed; she is the same as she was
on that day she returned from the hospital. The whole walk is a silent one.
Unlike other times, this silence told a story that was jumbled up. It is filled
with thousands of questions and hopes.
The day passes away slowly just as it always does but today’s not a
pretty day. I spent the whole day away from Clara. I do not know the
reason but she seems to avoid me. I do not feel like interfering in her
work so I spend the day with the rest of the girls talking about the concert
and the dresses but it does not satisfy my mood. The day is as gloomy as
my mood. The sky is dark and heavy with rain just as my heart is heavy
with tears and my mind heavy with unanswered questions. After school, I
search for Clara because she is not at the gate, where we always meet after
school for the walk back home. I think that she might be meeting me late
so I wait for her. It is almost ten minutes later that I feel frightened that
maybe Clara had fallen unconscious somewhere in a class and no one had
seen her. The image of her lying there unconscious with no one around,
and then waking up to see the school locked and she shut inside for the
weekend, forms in my mind. I shake my head and hope she is fine. I run
back into the school and check in every room where I think she possibly
could be, but I find that she is nowhere around.
I walk back up to the gate hoping that maybe she would have come to
the gate by now but there is no such luck. I see Alicia, a girl who was in
her last class for today. I ask her if she had seen Clara. She nods, “Ah, of
course. She left as soon as the school was over, about 20 minutes ago.”
It shocks me. Clara left? I feel so stupid. Why would she have done
something like that? My sub-conscious seems to reply. ‘Because you are
no best friends anymore and you are rubbish to her.’
The rest of the week goes by just that way, Clara avoiding me, Mike
disappointed, gossip of the would-be held concert in 3 weeks’ time and
me desperate to find solutions. Therefore, after school, the whole week I
waited for her for ten minutes and left without her. She goes home before
I come to the gate.
I feel lonely and I am fed up. Finally, I decide that I should talk to her.
It is Friday. Luckily, today the class is dismissed early. I reach the gate and
I know that she has not yet gone out. I see some familiar faces from the
FASC. Mike looks at me. He is so worn out. I am sure that he is trying to
cope with the situation but he always messes it. I would have been glad to
help him out but neither am I in a position to cope with my own problems.
84 85

Before long, I see Clara coming out of the school. She sees me but she
pretends to see something behind me. I walk up to her. I feel like I am going
to confront a stranger. The day is so gloomy and there is a drizzle, soon it
would rain. I stop a few steps away from her. She has her back turned to
me pretending that she is busy searching for something in her backpack. I
call out, “Clara, I need to speak to you. What is wrong with you? Why are
you trying to avoid me? What has happened to you? You have changed a
lot. I miss you so much but you do not seem to mind me. What have I done
wrong? Why do you not talk to me? Mike is so upset about you too.”
She turns to face me. I almost gasp. Her face looks bony as if she has
put herself to starve. She had lost a lot of hair too. Her face seems darker
too. Her expression looks evil. It scares me a lot. I feel like crying. When
she speaks her voice seems hollow and hoarse, “Joana, why don’t you just
mind your own business? Nothing is wrong with me and why do you even
care? I told you that I have no feelings towards Mike. Anyway, I have no
intention of going for a guy who you seem to have fallen in love with. So
just, shut up and stop pretending as if you are gifting him for my sake. I do
not receive such stupid gifts. Get lost and leave me alone.”
Tears are streaming down my cheeks and I am lost for words. I feel
embarrassed, shocked and out of control. My whole body shivers. Her
voice was high pitched and the whole school seemed to be silent and the
words she spoke seemed to be echoing over and over again. Mike is wideeyed.
Everyone who heard her is too.
With that, she just stomps away, at the same time the rain falls down hard.
Everyone runs around helter skelter to find shelter, but not me. I just keep
on crying, kneeling in the rain. I feel the rain wash my tears but not the
pain in my heart. I feel strong masculine arms grab me. They are pulling
me along and run under a shelter. I do not know what is happening. I just
feel locked up in my own mind. Those arms seem to shake me furiously
and I hear a familiar distant voice call to me, “Joana! Joana! Are you all
right? Speak to me!”
I see a feminine figure over the mist of tears, “Joana this is me Alice.
Do you see me? What is happening? Mike! Let’s get her to her home. She
seems to be blacking out. Hurry up! Rosemary, help me get her in the car.
Mike hurry up! Drive!”
I am struggling to get out of the shock but the more I struggle the more
I am locked inside. Inside my mind, it is so pleasant. It is so sunny. It is
full of memories. Everything seems to glow but the thing that glows the
most and warms my heart is one smile. A smile of a person I respected
and loved the most. It is Clara’s. I want to stay in my own mind and never
wake up – stay in there forever.
I reply; it comes out as a shivering whisper, “Clara. Why are you saying
such things? It is not true.”
An evil grin tugs at her lips and she says, “I do not believe you. Cross
your heart and swear it is not true that you like him too.”
I am hopeless. I hug myself and fall on the ground kneeling. I cry
shaking my head. I hear myself whisper, “I can’t” over and over again.
Clara laughs and says, “See I told you, didn’t I?”
86 87

aunt’s place. Aunt Janet was more than glad to have me over for a day.
Mom and Dad told her about my disease. All of a sudden, everything
changed into a dull atmosphere. A dark shadow crosses her face. She looks
at me with so much affection in her face. All the excitement in her face
seems to drain out when she hears the word ‘Leukaemia’. After Mom and
Dad leave, I go over and sit by her wheel chair. I ask, “Don’t you want to
know how long?”
- CLARA -
I run the rest of the way home. The rain is setting in. My heart feels tight.
All I want is to die, just then and there. I am panting and I am tired. I am
sad and crying. I hate myself. I just hate myself more than anything else.
It was not me there at school, that was the devil, which is eating me up,
and destroying the years of my life. The rain is so cold but I do not feel it.
I am numb. My whole body aches. I stumble on to the ground. I feel as if I
am going to black out. I collect myself and run faster. I cannot see where I
am going. I do not feel a single thing. However, with effort I see the home
that has been familiar to me for the last 16 years. I cannot keep it up. With
great effort, I ring the bell thrice and I fall on to the ground. My legs are so
weak. The darkness consumes the rest of the light around me.
I wake up again. As I now know how the brilliance of the white
light hurts my eyes, I slowly open them, blinking at intervals. A sigh of
relief passes out of my Mom. Dad seems concerned. Both of them hug
me. Neither of them dare to ask anything from me. Since last week, I
have been acting strangely and had a quick temper, shouting at them for
nothing and hitting my siblings until they cried and everything. I feel as
if I am a devil.
The next two days go by. Then I am discharged after a dose of
chemotherapy. This time I do not go home. Instead, I decide to go to my
She looks up at me with a surprised expression. When she sees my face,
she drops her expression maybe she sees it in me unlike my parents that
I am ready to face my fate. She shakes her head, “No, I do not want to. I
told your parents not to mention it to me either even after you are g…” The
words seemed to be stuck, “It would be better to think that you are living
than that. You have always been my favourite.”
She motions me to come forward and hugs me heartily. She whispers,
“I wish this was only a nightmare but it seems to be not.”
She releases me and says, “Clara your parents are so worried about
you, especially about your behaviour of late. Do you know something?
Even I was just like you. I wanted everyone to hate me so that way they
would not feel bad when it happens you know? But I soon found that
it was wrong. Anyway, I only lost my leg. In your case, it is different
but you have to know that you cannot make someone who loves you so
much to hate you. Instead, they would just hate themselves and not you.
They will even feel bad when they found out why you actually were
behaving in such a rude manner. It is no good. They would weep for you
more and they will feel even more hurt.”
The truth of those words strike me hard. What have I done? I feel bad.
I have made people more worried than they already are.
Aunt Janet continues, “There is no happiness than the one happiness
that you feel around the people that you love and those that love you.
After all what has happened it is time to spend more time with them and
88 89

seek forgiveness from them for all the wrong you have done. Start now,
it is never too late.”
* * *
The next day I visit Joana. Mrs. Ellsworth lets me in. She tells me that
Joana is resting. It seems the doctor has said that Joana has gone through
a row of serious shocking incidents and has had a depression. I feel so
guilty about the whole incident. I just do not know what to feel. I feel
extremely angry with myself. Once I open the door to Joana’s room, to
my surprise, Mike, Alice, Joe, Rosemary and Alex had come over too.
I feel weak in my knees. With some effort, I go inside. Their heads turn
my way. Alex seems to be frowning at me. I deserve more than that. Mike
gives me a weak smile. I do not return it. I could not after everything that
happened. At least after knowing that Joana liked him I just cannot. The
rest of the three of them stand expressionless. Alex exits out of the room
stomping off and Alice, Rosemary and Joe follow with their heads down.
Mike just stands on the ground beside Joana slightly holding her fingers.
A slight tinge of jealousy rises inside me but I know it is nothing close to
the feeling Joana felt when he told her about his crush on me.
I take a seat beside her and grab her other hand. I pray a silent prayer.
I let the tears run down my cheeks and down on to her open palms. Her
face looks so pale. I just cannot help seeing her in such a position. I close
my eyes and listen to her breathing. At that moment, it seems the most
melodious sound in the world. Aunt Janet is correct like always. Your
home is where your loved ones are. I do not know how long I sit there in
that same position whispering her name in my mind. I am brought back to
earth by that tiny little hopeful voice that I hear, “Clara is this you?”
I quickly open my eyes. Joana is awake. Her eyes slightly open her smile
so wide and her skin changing back to normal. I hurriedly nod. I whisper,
“I am sorry. I am extremely sorry. I just do not know what happened to me.
It seemed like a devil took over my body over the last week. I just am so
sorry. I did not mean to hurt you. I was so upset being sick and I was just
so worried about myself that I had no time to think about the things I was
doing. I know I do not deserve to be forgiven.”
“Oh! Clara it is none of your fault. I have been so into fashion and we
had no real time to be together. I was just extremely worried that I might
just lose you. I was so scared.”
I hug her to my body. I am just so happy that she is all right. At that
moment, I knew that I just could not tell her about my disease. She would
fall sick again. I just have to stick to my story.
After I release her Mike says, “She must have some rest for a while.
We’d better let her rest.”
I nod. I caress her head and ask her to rest. The next moment I close the
door to her room. Mike gets hold of my hand and pulls me towards him.
For one second I feel fear taking over me. He looks at me in the eye and
says, “I need to talk to you.”
I do not struggle. It is time I tell someone about my problem. I nod and
follow him to his car. On my way out, I call out to Mrs. Ellsworth saying
that I would visit her tomorrow. Out in the street I get into his car. Since
the backseat is taken my Rosemary, Alice and Alex, I have just no option
but to get into the front seat. Joe seems to have taken the very short walk
to his home next door.
Once inside I feel all the eyes on me. Rosemary in a rough voice says,
“Speak! What is wrong with you? Why are you behaving this way?”
Alex throws the next question with a mixed feeling with anger, fear and
confusion, “Why are you doing this? What made you so heartless?”
For the next couple of minutes, they throw what seems to be hundreds
of questions at me. Mike is the only one silent. He asks the rest of them
to cool down. I burst into tears while I relate the story. At the end I say, “I
am so sorry. I just did not know what else to do. I just wanted every one
90 91

of you to hate me. It just worked out exactly the way I wished but I could
not cope with it. I just do not want to die and leave people weeping at me.
Especially Joana but the more I try to go apart from her the more I am
attached to her.”
The whole car is so silent. Everyone is deep in thought. The whole
atmosphere is thoughtful. The first sniffle comes out of Alex. He had
always been the sensitive guy. Then the whole lots of them sniffle, cry,
and shed so many tears. All of them hug me and apologize for nothing.
Alex, Alice and Rosemary get off the car at the mall. They promise not to
mention any of this to anyone especially Joana. I permit them to relate the
story only to Joe.
Mike drives me home. He says, “You could have just said that. Why
could you not trust me? I do not know how but I do know you love me as
much as I do you. You are asking me to do the most difficult thing.”
“I know but you know that Jo loves you even more. She is a good girl. Very
good, at times, she goes crazy and sentimental but I know she is the best.
You have to trust in her. Do it for me, please. All these years you have been
asking me to join the FASC but every time I have refused. Now I am ready
to join in but only if you do me this favour, I know you will like her.”
Until then I did not notice that Mike’s cheeks were wet with tears. My
heart sinks. He grabs me closer and before I could stop him, he kisses me.
I quickly jump away, without my knowledge I push Mike away too hard.
He just slips a little and falls straightaway into a mud puddle. I close my
eyes not wanting to see him, I feel ashamed. I open my mouth to scold him
but I could not help but laugh until my breath is out. It is so funny the way
he looks sitting in the mud puddle, his lips drooping in an expression of
pain, one hand on his back and his hair completely wet and sticking onto
his head and forehead as if he was wearing a helmet and his blue eyes
wide-open in surprise. That is the first time I laugh so much after I learnt
my death is so close.
* * *
After seeing Clara laugh so hard, Mike joins in to share the pleasure. He
feels that he might miss it so much because the next time he remembers
her laughter he fears he would be shedding tears instead of joining in as
she would be no more there except the echo of her laughter etched in his
memory.
“I will do it but for you and you alone. I do not know. By the way, I
am moving into your home today. I will be staying for the next two weeks
and afterwards I am going to the hostel. It is going to cost a great deal but
it is still worth it.”
The time we pull into the driveway, the rain is setting in. I hurriedly
get out and help Mike unload his luggage. I ring the bell and there is no
answer. Just then I remember that my parents had gone to a teacher-parent
meeting at my siblings’ school. The rain comes in, thanks to the little hood
we do not get much. Mike keeps glancing at me the whole time. I feel
rather awkward. He moves closer to me. He whispers, “You know what?
I will miss you so much.”
92 93

- JOANA -
level. They are so hard working and full of talent. Mike has made the
decision he is going to college to take up music and learn more about the
subject. Both, Clara and I encourage him. Even my parents are so happy to
have some company around the house. My mother could use a few hands
and everyone is willing to help, especially Rosemary and Alice. We have
grown to get together often. I really love their company. Sometimes I feel
as if Alice is my own sister. Everything seems to be so amazing like in a
never-ending happy story.
The next few days go so quickly. The night after next is the night of
the concert. After recovering over my little shock, everything is back to
normal except that Clara often has to visit the hospital occasionally for a
check-up or something and that she has lost almost every bit of her hair
so she had to wear a wig that looks almost like her hair but much longer.
I am so happy to be back together. Everything is going on well. I reveal
to Clara that I know the story behind FASC. She does not seem to be
surprised since I guess it is so obvious I know about it. I find out that Mr.
Anonymous is none but Mike. He had mistaken my locker for Clara’s.
Mike and I are getting on well with each other. Mike has boarded over
at Clara’s for a while and they are trying to make up over everything that
has happened over the last few days. Clara declared that they were mere
friends and nothing more and Mike is agreeing over the point. Mike hangs
out more often around my place. It has been awkward over the first few
days. I felt so ashamed and everything but now it is back to the usual
lifestyle. It is fun to hang around him. We have a lot of catching up to do.
Clara and I work out and practice for the concert hard. Occasionally
some of the members of the FASC come over and we have a little
hangover. Sometimes Mike and his band bring in the instruments and they
practice over at my place. It is so fun and they are a good band. I know
them as a well-known local band and I hope they go to the international
94 95

For once, I felt glad. I thought maybe her aunt might have come for her
and taken her home but why so early in the morning.I asked the nurse,
“Where to?”
“To the place where everyone goes, rich or poor, pretty or ugly, fat or
slim, good or bad, to the very place where no living soul could imagine.”
- CLARA -
Things are turning out fine and it is good to be around FASC. After all
Joana knows everything about my past. Now the FASC have joined Joana
as a member. I am so happy for her. She would not be left out. I am more
than glad that Mike is close by her to look after her and take care of her
for me.
Over the last few days there have been so many events happening here –
both sorrow and joy. It was a Monday morning when I went to the hospital
for another round of chemotherapy. Soon afterwards, I went in search of
Helena. Unlike other days, her room was wide open. I peered inside. An
unusual sight surprised me. The bed was neatly arranged. The flower vase
at the bedside table was empty. It was not like Helena to remove all the
beautiful flowers there. The medical machines were unplugged. There, by
the bed stood a nurse. She was folding up the sheets. I slowly enter the
room and ask her, “Do you know where I can find Helena, the one who is
in this room?”
The nurse looks at me with her eyebrows raised. She says, “Are you a
friend of hers?”
I eagerly nod. She replies, “I am so sorry she left at around 3 in the
morning.”
My heart stopped. I could not believe this. Tears flowed in my eyes. I
knew what she meant. Helena was gone as in dead. I stopped myself from
weeping. I asked the nurse, “How?”
“Don’t worry it was not a hard one for her. She left in her sleep. No
struggling, I guess. When we checked on her in the morning, she just
seemed to be asleep like every other living soul. If it were not for the
machine’s endless beep and the straight line and negative heartbeat, we
would have never known. When I stood by this door to her room, I felt
I could not breathe. She was so beautiful like an angel. I was convinced
that there was something wrong with the machine. She really seemed as if
sleeping. I do not know what it feels like to die. Anyway are you Clara?”
I nodded unable to speak. She handed me an envelope. On the top was
written CLARA in capital. I took out the letter. It read:
Dear Clara,
You have been a great friend to me for the past few weeks. It
has been heaven to me. You have been helping me cope through my sad
days. When you are reading this letter, I may be gone. I have been working
on this letter for days. I have never been a good letter writer. Well – my
deadline is here. I feel weak though I have not mentioned it to you or
anyone else before. I kept this letter in my pocket just in case when I am
gone you can get your hands on it. I know my living line is up. It is time
I say good-bye. I can hear this voice inside me saying that I call it a life.
I am so glad I met you. Your best friend is a lucky one. She must love you
96 97

for who you are. Whenever you were by me I felt as if you were Rosy but
in a better way. Thanks for being all ears when I told you my story. Life is
no fairy tale. Live it wisely dear friend, Good-bye.
With lots of love,
Helena.
I could not control myself I had never cried this way before. I was
hiccupping and hot tears blinded me. Dad came to me.
“Clary, don’t cry. Come sit down.”
Dad made me sit next to him in a couch, he held me in his arms, and
hugged me tightly as he used to do when I was very young. It was his
way of consolation. I know he cares for me so much. I could not speak.
I whispered, “Dad I am so scared. I am so scared of dying. I do not want
to die. I just want to be with you all forever. Why did we not find these
symptoms earlier? Dad I do not want to leave, not yet. I am not ready.”
I was hysterical. I could feel Dad shaking. He was losing his grip.
I wound myself tighter to him like I did when I was very young, being
scared of creepy things and ghosts. I just wanted to hang on to him forever.
He replied, “I wish that this is just a nightmare and we will wake up alright
and nothing has happened and we can live happily ever after. Neither am I
ready to face the truth, the reality. Clara you have always made both Mom
and me proud of having you around. You are such a great joy in our family.
Why you? I always ask God. But I never got the answer. I love you, dear.”
I hear those last few words in a dreamy state. I am now wandering in
sleep. I could feel myself hugged tightly. The ‘daddy scent’ makes my
dreams more comfortable and cozy. I feel more secure in his arms. His
cheeks are damp with tears but even his ragged cheeks comfort me that he
is my dear Dad at all times. His breath is husky from crying but it comforts
me. His raising and lowering chest hints that he is in more pain than I am.
More than everything his heart beat tells me that he loves me no matter if
I live or die.
* * *
It is a hard time for me but now I am happy that I am back with my
friends. I just wish I could live for another year or two to enjoy how life
has turned out to me. Mike is spending the week at my place. Now he is
more like a brother than a crush. One night I was lying on my bed looking
at the sky full of stars. I made stories in the stars and I was wondering if
Helena was somewhere among the stars smiling at me, whispering, and
looking upon me. Out of nowhere, a question popped into my mind, ‘If I
happen to not have cancer would life have been the same? Would I have
lost the grip on Mike?’ It was a weird question to have popped in my mind
at a strange time but there is sense in that question. Would I have to let go
of Mike then? Would life have been the same? I shake my head. However,
the question seems to be there. With that, I fall into a dreamless sleep.
“I love you too Dad. I always look up to you. I always wanted to be
someone like you, always strong and still soft.”
Dad is silent for a few moments as if he is making a great effort to bring
the words out, “I do not want to lose you, either.”
98 99

She is ready too but she has not worn any make-up. So in a daze I
give her a new look. Mr. Hermiston gives us a lift to school. The whole
atmosphere has changed; banners, posters, ticket booths and colourfulness
gives the school such a new look that I could not recognize it.
Seeing that we are almost late, we run to the backstage. On my way,
I notice our car parked. I feel excited. I want to make my parents proud.
This is my first show-off and I know I can do this!
- JOANA -
WOW! Finally, the hard work is over and the show is on. Tonight is the
concert. It is the night we have been working so hard for. I know we are
going to rock the night. I am very glad to be back together and witness this
great night together.
We go to the school for the last practice on stage. So that way we know
the exact positions we own up stage. We are allowed to do it the way we
want because it is the ‘Talent of Creation’. Everybody gets two chances
per performance.
The first time it feels wobbly and out of place but the second time it
comes out perfectly or so I guess. I see Jane in the audience rolling her
eyes and her fellow followers making faces. It does not matter as long as
we do it our way. We get to choose the background light depending on the
time and act in our piece. After our practice we go back home.
Two hours early, I dress up in the blue dress I bought that day. Put on a
slight make-up and a lip-gloss. I do not want to be the bright star tonight.
All I want to do is to share my talent with Clara’s. I am sure Mike is going
to rock the night with their brand new song. I am so excited. I have another
half an hour left, so I decide to visit Clara and give her a hand.
At the backstage everyone is ready and on the go. I see Mike and his
band surrounded by a group of students. I wave at him wildly. He waves
back and winks. I am so happy that he understands me and I am more than
happy to have Clara next to me. I do not know how I would survive if not
for her.
My heart stops when I see Jane in her glamorous outfit and doing a
final routine before the concert. She is wearing this beautiful pale blue
long dress, a long silver cape cascading along her back on to the floor.
When she raises her arms, the cascade moves along with her and the dim
backstage light is glittering with her. She really does look like the wind.
She is so amazing. I look at Clara. She just shrugs. I kind of feel as if we
are year two students compared to her perfection. I gulp. After the routine
Jane, walks up to us with her grin of evil and says, “Oh guys! Did you see
these little babies in their little frocks? So cute, aren’t they?”
My words are stuck in my throat. Clara speaks up, “Thank you, Ms.
Big Mouth! Glad to see you in your superman dress with that long cape.”
Even some of her friends giggle. She frowns, “Who are you calling a big
mouth? Well – we will see who the losers are! We are going to win this
and you are going to lose.”
“It is my honour milady but the end is not up to us.”
Jane looks at Clara with disgust and turns and walks away and her
followers like always follow her. I look at Clara and smile. I feel like I
100 101

want to hug her but I do not. I could not have done that so easily and
coolly. She just chased away a bully without a fight!
I do not agree that Jane looks like superman. She looks like a princess
but I do not want to give in. After this little challenge, I really want to win
this. I ask Clara, “Can we win this? After this challenge if we do not, it
would be a shame and she will make the rest of our lives hell.”
“Oh c’mon silly, she is only just a big mouth. She does not rule the
world. Let’s keep hopes but the end is not up to us.”
When she said those words, she looked as if she meant something else.
I do not question her. It does have sense and all I have to do is keep hope.
The concert starts. One by one the performers move on to the stage,
perform their item and come back. There are these peer holes on the wall.
We get to see almost all the performances. When Jane is on stage, she does
a great act and it astounds me. I feel as if we are going to lose it but I have
to have my hopes up. It is an important day of my life and I am not going
to let a mere girl ruin it for me.
Soon it is we being called on to the stage. The curtains are closed. There is
a big screen behind us that projects every movement we do and I know that
there should be no mistake this time. Every expression will be shown in it.
We take our positions on the edge of the stage ready to start. Clara
is at the opposite side of the stage. The announcers call out to start our
performance. Clara gives the thumbs up with a warm smile. I feel nervous
but it is not time for it. This is time for perfection. The curtains raise and
the music whistles. The whole world seems to be silent.
* * *
Joana and Clara run up from opposite sides and reach the mid stage with
a single skip. The fleets of their dresses are spreading across the stage
making it a fairyland as they hold hands spinning with their heads high
with warm smiles brightening the whole place in the yellow light. They
spin on their heels with delight and spring across to the front of the stage
with stretched limbs and sprint back to the centre of the stage.
With the rhythm of the music, the yellow background light changes to
red. The delightful dance dramatically takes up a serious mood. As the
music changes, their bodies give way to a serious expression on their face
with strong body language. The frills of their dresses seem to be glued to
them as the seriousness of the change.
The back light changes into light blue. The music takes up a rhythm as
slow and sad as the heart of a lonely person with a sorrowful heart and so
do each of the performers’ moves– clean moves but yet sorrowfully slow.
The back light turns bright white and the music flows back delightfully.
Joana and Clara take up the whole stage in their hands, the dance moves
reaches to the hearts of the audiences, their dresses glittering in the night,
and flowing on the stage like blue and pink cascades, bringing so much
happiness to the crowd and making them gasp. Their features are unique
and their expressions do the best job of all. Their body language and their
moves are pure, clean and clear. The minds of the viewers are taken up
to another level as the fog starts to reveal the beauty of life. The music
ends with a happy note and the performers bow down. The audience is too
mesmerized as to forget to applaud. The curtain closes up when the whole
crowd curtsy the performance with a standing ovation and a thundering
applause.
* * *
When we bow to the audience at the end of our performance there seems
to be no applause. My heart tightens. I think, ‘Oh no! We have messed it
all up. They do not like our performance. I have failed my parents, Clara,
Mike and everyone.’
The curtains are closing up when my heart loosens and I see the
audience stand and applaud like nothing ever before. It feels as if it is the
102 103

golden moment in my life. Clara is smiling endlessly unable to contain
her happiness.
Afterwards the announcers call upon the special guests and to present the
places for the performances. There was a lot of competition. I feel excited
about the whole thing. At this moment, I do not even mind if we do not
have a prize at all.
It does not end the concert. The last performance is by Mike’s band,
The Flaming Fires. It is an explosive performance. It is burning up the
audience with dancing and the whole school is rocking. Then there comes
the brand new song at the end. I have to agree this is one of my best days.
They call upon, “This is the moment you have been waiting for. The
places presented for the performances. The third place goes to…Danny
Thompson and her drama group for putting up that great drama for all of
us to enjoy.”
They award the prizes for Danny and her group. Then the announcers
announce the second place. I am hoping that this is it. I know ours is not
the best but it must have at least gotten into the second or third place. I
cross my fingers and wait for our names to be pronounced, “The second
place goes to the fabulous dance troop and the host, Jane Houston for their
fabulous act on stage.”
My dreams seem to be shattered. I feel as if I am a loser already. I
should have known that we could not have possibly won when Jane the
all-rounder is around. I look at Clara. Her face expresses the same thought
I had. She shrugs at me. Her shoulders are hunched. Both of us know
what the other person is thinking so we turn around with the intention of
leaving.
The announcers suddenly blurt out: “Now here is the best performance.
I think all of us already know who they are…the duet that made us
speechless and mesmerized us with their little dance with a hidden story.
The prize for the best performance goes to Clara Hermiston and Joana
Ellsworth.”
My heart is beating faster. I am not even sure if I heard it on my mind or
it is the reality. I turn around and there on the main screen are our names in
bold. I hold Clara’s hand and the crowd make way for us to go to the stage.
104 105

“Honey, I think I have one. It must be in my wardrobe, a glittery white
one. I think it will fit you fine. I wore it only once. I am so busy now. Why
don’t you check it out yourself?”
- CLARA -
The concert was unimaginable. We won the contest and most of all I am
very happy to have seen that ugly expression on Jane’s face. Mike has
returned to his home since his parents are back. I really wanted him to stay
with us but I know it would only make it hard for him. I know somewhere
down inside him he likes me for something more than a friend or sister just
like I do for him but he belongs to Joana and he will be only a brother to
me and he will be that way for me forever.
Today is going to be a good one and I know it. Tonight is the farewell
party for the CWMS. Anyway, Jo and I have made a different schedule.
Right after the ballroom dance Jo and I planned to have a get together
party at my place along with the FASC. I was concentrating so much on
the concert that I almost forgot about it. I have not even bought a dress
for it and I had no other dress suitable for the occasion. I left three hours
before the dance. I have no choice but to ask Mom for one. I guess she
might have one.
She is baking a cake for the party at the school after the dance. My little
twin siblings are in the dining room eating pancakes or rather swallowing
them. What a pair of disgusting little ones they are! The thought makes
me smile.
I ask, “Mom have you got any dress I can wear for the dance. I forgot
to buy one, neither do I have one in hand.”
I agree. I slowly enter the master bedroom. I feel somewhat awkward.
It has been a long time since I have entered this room. Last time I entered
it, I was only 10. I had watched a horror movie. I was scared to my wits to
enter my room so I had run in here and Mom offered to stay by me until I
slept. It is a wonderful memory. I cuddled up to her and she was stroking
my head whispering comforting words. I wish she could do the same now.
The room has changed a lot since then. A green wallpaper has replaced
the yellow one. The room has changed and has become more beautiful
than the last time I saw it. I open the wardrobe and browse through the
clothing until I find the dress that matches my mother’s description. It is a
simple long dress. It is a glittery pure white dress with a black rose at the
belt. It is great, more than I expected it to be. I love it.
I quickly step into the new dress, bathe myself with some perfume and
put on the only high heel I have. I have to agree I do look good but I have
no idea what to do with my hair. It looks frizzy and ugly. I kind of look like
my granny. Most of my hair is gone. Lucky I bought a number of wigs for
the purpose but the thing is am not good at choosing a perfect one for the
occasion. Now it is time I get some advice from Mom, the fashion expert
at home.
When I go into the kitchen, she is putting in the last touches to the
beautiful cake and the aroma makes me want to eat it right now. Instead, I
concentrate on the problem in hand.
“Mom, if you are not very busy could you give me a hand with my hair?
Could you choose a wig for me?”
She looks at me and smiles, “Sure! Hold on while I pack this cake
safely in a box and into the car.”
106 107

Soon she is back in my room browsing all the wigs thoughtfully. Finally,
she chooses one. It is one of the brown wigs looking like my own hair used
to be. She holds it to my head with some clips and arranges its shiny curls
on my shoulders. The wig is firm on my head and I wonder how long it
would take to remove it. Mom adds a final touch to the hair with a white
rose clipped on to the hair closer to my left ear. It is not the end. She adds
some make-up on my face and some lip-gloss and finally I am done. I walk
towards the mirror and I see a mesmerizing sight. I cannot believe it is me.
I look beautiful. I turn to Mom. There are tears in her eyes. I do not want
to cry, and so with some effort I smile and hug her, “Thank you Mom! You
are a great person. You have taught me many things without making me
realize I have learnt them. I must be the luckiest person on earth to have
a mother like you but I am so sorry. I know I have not been your dream
daughter. I know I have not. I have hurt you many times but still I know
you love me.”
“Oh! Clara! You are my baby. As a mother, I have learnt more things
from you than I have taught you. You were always different. That
difference is what makes me proud of you. You were a mother to me more
than a daughter. You are my dream daughter. Nothing can stop that being
true. I love you!”
I give in and let the tears stream down my cheeks destroying all the
handiwork of my mother. I might look silly but to Mom I am always
beautiful. I know that. We hold each other for a long time not wanting to be
the first to release the other. I hear Dad’s voice call somewhere downstairs,
“Clara we are going to be late. Come down soon.”
I make a choice and let go of Mom. She looks at me surprised but does
not say anything; she mops my face with a tissue and re-applies a quick
make-up.
* * *
Yesterday’s décor is all gone and is replaced by a very different
atmosphere. It looks formal. Everyone is in their formal dressings: boys
in their suits and girls in their beautiful dresses. It almost blinds me. I
could not recognize anyone at all. Dad brings out the huge cake box and
takes it to a table where there are various types of food hilled up. I feel
nervous about this night. Dad squeezes my hand in encouragement. He
knows that I am extremely nervous because he is the mind reader in the
family. The little squeeze just brings me back in spirit. I smile warmly
and give him a quick hug, as quick as it never happened but both of us
knew that it is not a time to go into tears. We knew that this night could
be one of the last of the best nights I am going to have. There does not
have to be words to fill in the silence. We just know it. Dad drives into
the twilight. I watch the car disappear and my heart weighs so much, as
if I miss the best thing in my life.
All of a sudden, a pain strikes my body. I feel my feet wobbly. I get hold
of a lamp stand close by me to stop myself from falling. My head goes
dizzy as if I am going to black out. I am getting a bad headache as if my
head is going to explode. I take hold of the stand very tightly and I shut
my eyes. I can feel my breath is hollow. I scold myself, ‘What is wrong
with me? Just because this is your first dance doesn’t mean you should
feel this bad.’
As soon as that feeling came, I can feel it dimming down a little. “Clara is
something wrong? You are all pale and what are you doing there hugging
that pole?” Joana’s voice behind me makes me jump.
“Nothing, I am just a little nervous and a little dizzy. I think I should
have a sip of water or something.”
“It took me 15 minutes to find you. I saw you hang on to that pole but
I was not so sure that it was you. ‘Coz you look marvelous and beautiful!
You seem to be the centre of attention today!”
Joana is so simple but double pretty. She is wearing a plain fitting red
108 109

dress below the knee length with a dazzling silk butterfly at the right
shoulder of the dress. She looks like a fairy.
We have an orange juice from the drink stall and slowly walk into the
room that has been kept in hand for occasions like this. Last year it had
been a fair place with many booths and stalls. Now it has converted into a
ballroom. Its large circular structure is best for every occasion. The whole
room is decorated with flowers and other decors, the room is lit with a gold
light, and the background is filled with many excited and expectant voices.
The whole ballroom is filled. Thanks to the air conditioner, I can breathe. I
step into the entrance and into the light, some voices at the front die down
and I hear a few whispers and some ‘Ohh’s and ‘Uhh’s. I quickly step
out of the entrance to a side thinking that there is some beautiful girl or a
handsome boy stepping in behind me. I do not want to destroy his or her
show off but behind me, there is no one stepping in or out of the ballroom.
I hear Joana giggle, “Stupid, they are going goo-goo and gaga for you.”
I blink and join in the giggle. It really does sound idiotic. Anyway, I do
not want to disapprove of the thought. Joana takes the lead in to the centre
of the ballroom. I see Joe, Max, Alex, Rosemary, Ted and Mike too in
there. Rosemary is in a long sparkling blue dress with wide frills – really,
a beauty she is. Joe and Max are both wearing a red suit. Maybe they
decided to wear that together, on purpose since they are best of friends.
They always like to be called twins and they always love to be different
from the others. They must be the only ones wearing a red suit. Ted is on
the casual black. Alex is in his usual mess. He does not have his coat on.
He is wearing a navy blue shirt with a non-matching brown coat twirled
up on his hand. On the other hand, Mike is in his best formal wear. He is
wearing a white suit with a black rose in his pocket. He is so handsome.
His eyes are glistening in the light and his half-crooked smile that won the
hearts of many girls is now upon me. It makes my heart beat faster. Then
I glance at Joana, fortunately, she has not seen our secret contact and my
face goes all red with shame. Mike must have seen my expression since he
himself looks down at his feet.
“Good evening young ladies and gentleman. Like every year, here we
are present to enjoy this semester’s last day. Though it is annual for us, it is
not for you. It is the very first ballroom night for you. This is the occasion
where we welcome our new seniors. The next semester is waiting, so we
have to bid good-bye to the last semester of the year. Anyway, we are
sad to say goodbye to our old seniors but this is what life in school is
about. We congratulate all the seniors who are hoping to go in for college
and we wish every one of them a better future”, our Principal announces,
silencing the gathered crowd, “Unlike other farewell dance parties we are
making a change. The dance partners are going to dance according to their
matching dress colours... This is going to be a new experience.”
The slow music flows throughout the ballroom. The feet are running
around searching for a matching colour-code-dance-partner. I look to my
left and then to my right. Joana says aloud, “Hey! Look, both you and
Mike have matching colour codes. Grab him Clara before someone else
does. Now I have a difficult choice in choosing between Joe and Max.”
She disappears into the crowd. Mike is stuck to the floor just like me.
I do not want to make the first move. I do not want to surrender to my
feelings but my heart aches for comfort. My whole life has turned topsyturvy
and maybe this is my last dance. Just like before a pain takes over
my body. My head swirls. I feel as if I cannot breathe. I feel weak, tired
and sleepy. I just want to fall on to the ground, sleep, and never wake up. I
stumble but I do not fall. Mike’s strong sportive hands support me. He gets
me in the dancing position. He does not want to make a big show off out of
my slip and neither do I. Didn’t I say he is smart? He whispers worriedly,
“Are you OK Clara? You look pale and weak. Maybe you should relax
and take a seat.”
I cannot speak but I do not want to miss this day. I shake my head. I
speak shakily, “It is fine. Let’s dance.”
We dance front, back, left and right. His skin is warm and comforting
in my cool and damp palms. Mike has gone crazy. He whispers the worth
110 111

of love in our lives until I go deep red. Then somewhere in the middle of
the dance, he brings me closer to him and grabs me firmly as if he fears
that if he loses his grip he will never see me again. All of a sudden he asks,
“Clara do you love me?”
It is a surprising question. I cannot lie to him. His eyes are on me. I have
no guts. I just nod my head. He smiles warmly at me and brings me even
more closely. His breath is heavy. I can hear his rapid heartbeat.
Then out of nowhere he says, “Will you promise me that you will never
leave me? I need… I mean we need you. Promise me.”
I shake my head, “You know the truth. Do not play with the reality. I do
not want to break promises so I do not want to promise.”
The silence between us makes us uncomfortable so both of us make
some distance between us. Occasionally I take a peek of Joana dancing
with Joe then the next she is with Max. She must be trying not to make
any of them feel bad.
After some time I am feeling exhausted and the pain wins over my
stubbornness. I do not have to tell Mike. He simply understands me. He
takes hold of me and leads me out into the night away from the voices
and laughter. Quickly I make a call to Dad to pick me up. He seats me in
a bench right outside the ballroom. We are not alone. Other tired dancers
are also out there helping themselves with food and drink. The cool breeze
of the night relaxes me but the pain does not dim. It hurts me. I breathe in
deeply but my lungs refuse to take in all the air so I have to cough it out.
Mike goes to the table and brings some drinks. It is lemonade. It is the
natural drink, the way I love it.
We sit silently and take in the sweet-sour sips. Afterwards we speak a
little of our childhood and share our memories. Soon our conversation
turns to Joana. I ask Mike, “You do like Jo, don’t you?”
He takes his time before answering, “Yes, I do very much. I think she
is a mystery - same as you. She has a fairyland in her mind and when I am
with her, I feel as if she has taken me into her fairyland story. Whatever
happens I know she loves me and I think I am bonded with her and it will
stay that way no matter what.”
A sting of jealousy catches me but I know it cannot be changed. This is
what I wanted, then why am I feeling this way?
I tell him, “I am happy for both of you, also I am more than happy that
you have kept your promise about my illness. Do you know something? I
have been having a crush on you as long as I remember. Now you are more
like a brother to me. I am sorry if have put in so much misery on you. I just
wanted you all to hate me so that when I am gone you will feel nothing.”
Mike silences me, “Stop it! It is not going to happen. I will never hate you.
It will never happen. You have changed my life so much. I had no friends
until you came by. You are simply unforgettable. What about Joana? Did
you see how much she suffered? She really loves you. You must be so
lucky to have a friend like her who would give her whole life for you. I
do not know how she will take the news. It would be unbearable for her.”
I look down at the ground, “I am sorry. I did not know that I meant
so much to her. I know she will miss me. However, I know you will look
after her with all the members in FASC. I hope they will fill in the space
after me.”
“You are not replaceable. You know that. Do not test yourself. I will
always be for her but that is not enough. If you are the air then I am just a
speck of floating dust there. A speck of dust cannot replace the air.”
“But still that speck of dust can make a person sneeze and also it can
make beautiful patterns in a ray of light.”
Mike is out of words. All the talking and thinking is making me exhausted.
I do not have to stay long. A horn of a car brings me back to my senses. It
is Dad. I tell Mike, “Let Joana know that I left and inform her to come to
112 113

the party by 10.30 or else she is going to miss all the food. Also make sure
the FASC and you yourself come to my place by the time.”
Mike nods. I slowly get into the car and lay my head back. Today is a
wonderful night. I will never forget this night the rest of my life. How long
is the rest of my life going to last? I do not want to know. I simply want to
live in the present and enjoy the moment.
- JOANA -
Tonight was fabulous. Clara was in her most beautiful dress. At first,
I just could not even recognize her. But there was something in her. She
looked pale and she was sweating. I knew it was not like her to go all
wobbly for a dance like that. Something did seem out of place but after
some drink she came back in spirit. There was a change in this year’s
farewell dance. We were supposed to dance with a partner wearing the
same colour as we were. There were only two boys in red. That was Joe
and Max. Since Tiara and I were wearing red, we danced with each one
of them in turns. It was a surprise both Mike and Clara were in white
coloured clothing. So, I give them their chance together. I know that Clara
still likes him somewhere deep inside her. If she can simply let me grab
him then why can’t I give them a chance even if it is only for one dance?
Around 10.00 Mike comes to me and passes Clara’s words to me. The
whole FASC takes a ride to Clara’s place. Tiara, Rosemary, Ted and I
squeeze into Mike’s car.
* * *
The house is well lit and the dinner atmosphere is high. The whole
place smells of mouth-watering scents. We pour into the home. Some of
our parents have arrived earlier and are seated outdoors. The weather is
cool outside. Some of us including me decide to stay indoors and have a
little chat. Unlike other days the twins are so silent and are co-operating
114 115

with each other. What a surprise! To me they used to look like a pair of
naughty angels fighting for nothing but tonight they look peaceful enough
to be little rabbits. I do not want to break the peaceful atmosphere by
asking why they are so good to each other. They are so cute. I wish I could
borrow them for a day. The boys have taken off their coats and folded up
their sleeves, for the place has crowded and it is too warm to stay formal.
After 10 minutes, Clara descends the steps to the hall where we are all
gathered. She has changed into casuals.
Before long, we are enjoying the food, cracking jokes and singing
songs. Everything is down by 11.30 p.m. Many of the FASC and their
parents are waving goodnight and are off. I am the only one left. Anyway,
I am going to have a night over here. I see my parents out and everything
seems silent. The dinner party is over. Mrs. Hermiston offers to clean the
place by herself and shoos us to bed. Feeling uncomfortable, I offer to
help Mrs. Hermiston by putting the siblings to sleep with some help from
Clara. At the time, I am changing into something casual Clara hangs with
her siblings.
We decide to stay up late. In her bedroom, Clara opens a window and
the moon light fills the whole room with eye-catching patterns. Clara sits
at the windowsill and I stretch myself on the bed. We talk of many things
about our past and we even make plans for our future. We are now seniors.
We should have a goal in our life, shouldn’t we?
Clara speaks, “Today is one of my best days. It is a pleasure to be
together again. In my life, I have never felt as happy as this. It is good to
be together again. How much I have missed this?”
“Yeah, life has turned out good, I hope. The party was a blast I have to
agree. I think the party at home is better than the party at school but still
I am disappointed that I could not have a bite of that cake you made and
left for the school party. Never mind. There were better things to eat here.”
I wink and together we giggle. Clara’s giggle makes me nervous. She
sounds as if she is having a problem with breathing. I do not mention it
to her. I think, ‘Maybe like me she stuffed in too much food that she can’t
even breathe properly.’
We crack silly jokes and giggle together. How much I have missed
this togetherness. I wonder if love can make a friendship break. I cannot
imagine that happen. I do not want this night to last.
Clara says seriously, “Jo, I know I have hurt you so much and made
you cry. I am so sorry. I am so selfish and I do not want to deny the truth.
I should have known. Sometimes sickness and medicine can turn the devil
on. I guess it is one of those times then.”
I cannot bear it up when Clara talks with so much hurt and pain in her
voice. I hush her, “Sh... It is none of our fault. It is not up to us. Sometimes
our feelings can get jumbled up and make us so confused that we don’t
even know what we are talking or doing.”
“Jo, I don’t know. You mean so much in my life. I love you, friend.
I can’t imagine how I would have survived if not for you. You are my
strength.”
“Oh! Clara! It is me who should say that! I love you too. It is so good
to be together.”
“Why don’t we call this the best night of our lives? What do you say?
Let’s celebrate this night annually – together or not! I want this night to be
memorable forever. The night of the re-union of the missed friendships…”
“I love that idea! Let’s celebrate this night every year.”
We talk about some other things and without my knowledge, I fall
asleep and fall deep into a great paradise of dreams. I hear Clara whisper
somewhere in my dreams, “Good night Jo. I am always there to support
you alive or not – Always. I promise.”
116 117

They asked, “Then who is going to protect you? We can smack and kill
Death. It can’t take you away like that. Both of us can kill it.”
I giggled and grabbed them in a handful and hugged them tightly while
the tears washed away my pain, “I am older, remember? I can take care of
myself. Death will protect me. But you two should stop picking on each
other and help each other and protect Mom and Dad and love them so
much.”
- CLARA -
Joana is fast asleep. I go through the memories of the day. When I arrived
home tonight, I went to my room. On my way to my room, unexpectedly
I ran into the twins. Like always, they were trying to kill each other. I got
between them and kneeled down beside them to stand level to them. I said,
“Stop fighting with each other. Please! You cannot go on fighting this way.
See how much disaster you cause. Mom and Dad are extremely worried
about you guys. When I am gone you are the only two who can help them
survive through the hard days to come.”
Both of them chorused in, “Where are you going?”
I replied, “To a place where no living being has gone. I am going to
somewhere with ‘Death’”
My little brother asked, “Death? How is it there like?”
I replied, “I do not know, sweetie but I have to go there.”
My sister asked, “Can we come too?”
I exclaimed “No! It is dangerous. Don’t you ever try! Did you forget?
You are supposed to protect Mom and Dad.”
It is one of the emotional moments of my life. Their love will always
stay with me. Their little minds did not know why I was crying but they
joined in and shared the tears. I never knew I loved them so much. I always
thought of them as if they were little monsters. I never knew they needed
some lovely words to bring their little minds to senses but I had only
showed them anger and hatred but their little hearts only poured immense
love and laughter. It is hard to learn a mind of a child.
* * *
Another spasm of pain brings me back to reality. Out of nowhere, I
understood the meaning of all these striking pains and the need for some
closing eyes. As if it has been always around the corner, it pops into my
head. MY TIME IS UP!
Through the pain, I remember a dim thought, my diary. I remember that
it is there is my study table. I get up from the windowsill in a dizzy state
and I open the drawer and pull out a hard cover writing book. It has a lock
and a key bonded at the back of the book. I remove it from its place and
stick it in the key hole. I walk up to the bed and put it on the bed in a dizzy
state. Joana is fast asleep. I whisper a promise that I will always be by her.
Those words take all my breath. I reach the windowsill again. I raise the
window to a half-closed position. I sit on the sill and stretch my legs on it.
My heart aches. I cannot breathe. I clutch my chest and gasp for breathe.
But no air fills my lungs. My head spins and my whole body shakes. I bite
my lips with an effort not to scream. I gasp and puff as a fish out of water
118 119

trying to survive. I know it is going to be useless. So I lay my head on the
windowpane. The windowsill is as wide as that it keeps my body on board
without letting it fall on to the ground. I feel tired. I lose interest in gasping
for air since my lungs refuse to take any in. I let my body do what it should
do. I close my eyes and I see a movie. The star of the movie is none other
than me. I do not understand the movie. It goes so fast as a flash in the sky
but I knew every part of the movie by heart. Finally, the movie is over. I
open my eyes and a striking blue-white light pierces my eyes. Through the
smoke of light, a pretty girl comes into view. She looks like an angel. Her
arms are stretched towards me. I place my hand in hers. I feel myself lift
off and explore the new world.
* * *
From high up the spirit of the young girl hears the beating heart of an
old friend – Joana. She has an extremely long way to go before they will
meet once again. The promises made between them will never break. The
promises are the only bonds left within them. As the spirit of one of them
steps into the blue-white world, everything has gone dark in the lifeless
body that had held that spirit of the past 17 years.
The beating heart has stopped. The lungs make no effort to gasp for
anything. The blood stops dead. The pulses are no more. The brain shuts
off everything. The muscles relax. The hand that was clutching the chest
falls on to the late Clara Hermiston’s lap. The night has taken a mysterious
turn. The silence of the darkness seems to mourn for a lost friend but there
is a heartbeat close by, a heartbeat so strong and lively. It will fill the night
and bring many memories in this dead world. Still the truth cannot be
hidden. A life has taken flight. What are left are the memories, the hidden
bonds, and a thousand promises.
- JOANA -
I wake up with a start. I look at the time. It is past 10 a.m. I look around
sleepily and confused and then all my senses come back. I get out of the
bed and notice that Clara has fallen asleep on the windowsill. I see a book
on the bed. I pull it out and read its cover. It reads, ‘My Best Memories –
Clara Hermiston’. The same book that I saw when I came to Clara’s room
wanting to complete some notes for her. I see the key in the key hole. I
unlock it. I flip through the pages. Every page reads of the memories that
Clara and I have shared together. At a point, I reach a page written in red.
To Clara red means a dangerous colour. I read the pages and feel a knot
in my stomach. Clara has LEUKAEMIA. This can’t be true. I read on and
I feel myself cry hiccupping. I cannot believe this. I have not known any
of these things. Why had not Clara mentioned any of this to me? And the
answer is there on the last page. Because she thought that, I will not bear
it up. Yes, I cannot bear this up. I do not believe this. Is it all just a prank?
But will Clara do a prank as cruel as this?
The last page is a letter from Clara:
Best Friend Forever,
When you read this letter, I must be dead. I have been planning
for my last day from the day I knew I do not have much time left in my life.
120 121

I did not have the guts to let you know what is wrong with me. I wanted you
to hate me but it did not work out that well because every one of you loved
me so much that instead of hating me, you hated yourselves. I am so sorry
that I hurt you so much. In my life, you are the change that has occurred
to me. Yes, truly I did love Mike but no more. He loves you and I know
that. He will always be by you no matter what. He will try his best to fill
the space left by me. Please don’t hurt yourself by thinking about me and
making yourself sick. I want you to be strong - as strong as a stone- and to
help my parents through these hard times. Be a daughter to them and my
siblings are all yours. Fill in the space I have left. Make their lives better.
This is my last wish.
With endless love,
Clary
I do not believe this. I look at Clara. She does not look dead to me. She
looks fast asleep. I go to her. I take hold of her hand. Her hands are as cold
as ice, it makes me jump back. I call out to her, “Clara wake up! Clara!
Wake up! This is no joke. You are scaring me.”
I shake her. I shake her firmly but there seems to be no response. My
eyes fill with tears. I scream out her name. My throat is burning. My whole
world seems to dull out.
* * *
I call out to Clara’s parents. They run upstairs. Clara’s Dad kneels beside
her and takes her pulse while I hug Mrs. Hermiston. I cry. The siblings are
there too. They take hold of my legs and keep on asking questions. Mr.
Hermiston gets on his legs and steps backwards. He shakes his head. He
stands as if he is a stone but within him many emotions mix in and all he
knows is that he had just lost his dear daughter forever. It all seems to be
expressed through his eyes as I watch the tears roll down his cheek and hit
the floor with a few splashes.
Mrs. Hermiston understands. She wails. She falls to the ground weeping
with me. The siblings do not understand the situation but they weep along
with us. They know nothing of what is really happening. They do not like
the atmosphere, they simply want to cry. I hug them in a handful just as
Clara does. I promise to myself, ‘I will look after everyone. Don’t worry.
I will make your last wish come true. This is an unbreakable promise.”
After 15 years...
* * *
Diane and Jeffery [Clara’s siblings] have taken up a new life. Both of
them had got into college and come out fresh and educated. Jeffery has
taken a job as an architect while Dianne has chosen to work in a home
nursing centre. Nevertheless, they are keeping up the promise that they
once made to their sister. Joana has filled the space left by her.
* * *
Mrs. Hermiston is in a good health and is cared for by both her children,
Dianne and Jeffery. In addition, Joana and Mike have helped her through
the worst of days. Life is not bad for her but always the past wraps itself
around her. She still weeps for her dear daughter and grieves for her
husband who passed away three years after their daughter’s departure.
* * *
Mike has gone in and out of Music College and is now taking a degree
in music. Joana always held his hand. She encouraged him to dare to take
another step in his new life. She has been a fairy presented to him by
an adorable angel named Clara. But there is a melodious laughter which
can never we tuned correctly through any musical instrument. The wind
whispers one certain laughter. Water floats on that laughter. The sun’s
warmth depends on that laughter. That laughter makes the sky clear and
beautiful. It is the laughter that he stored in his youthful spring years still
122 123

haunting him in his dreams in a pleasant way. It is forever written in his
deep memories – memories full of friendship and secrets.
* * *
Joana has filled in the space that was left by her best friend but there is
no one there to replace the true Clara, a figure, who has changed many
lives and shown the worth of life. Joana is a teacher at Cortwales Middle
School. She has formed an official FASC group for all the children and
is a supportive female vocalist in her husband’s band, The Flaming Fires.
Mrs. Watson alias Joana is a proud mother of two beautiful girls, Clara
and Helena, named in memory of two wonderful people. Over the 15
years, she has never forgotten to celebrate the ‘Friendship Day’ annually,
no matter what. The tears will always be part of her. As a teacher, she
has seen thousands of people but not once, she saw a person like Clara.
She has made a conclusion that there is no copy of a person. Everyone is
unique and genuine, whatever their standard is, rich or poor, good or bad,
pretty or ugly, none is ever created the equal to another and that is what
makes life beautiful.
* * *
- END-
Clara and Joana are best friends with two completely different personalities.
However, their contrast of personalities is not capable of disturbing
their strong bond of friendship. They trust each other for who they are.
The same best friends share one preference, one boy, Mike Watson. Who
wants to make the sacrifice of their love?
Cortwales Middle School is in the competition to win the ‘best performance
award’. Would the two best friends make it to the top together and
perform to their best?
The dark secret that lingers around Clara is too dark for her to keep it
hidden from that one person she calls ‘best friend’. How long will she be
able to keep it a secret? Would ‘the leave’ swallow her soul completely
and leave only her memories in the hearts of her beloved ones?
Hopes shattered, Dreams shared, Life unfair, Death unknown, Love
unreachable…
A story of two different people, a dreadful secret, a strong bond of friendship
and so many unanswered questions…
Read on and unravel the secrets as they unfold before your eyes.
ISBN 978-955-0028-51-1
Rs. 350 /-
124 125