13-Hour Memoir
That day was different. I stared in wonder at the angelic and immaculate figure before me. She was gazing out to the sky, caught in a trance. I noticed a pink diary beside her. From the end of the platform, I called out to her. ‘H-Hey, it’s abandoned. There are no trains coming through here!’
She broke out of her reverie and looked at me in astonishment. Then she gave me a smile and nodded.
I stammered. ‘Ah, I’m sorry. It’s nothing. B-Bye.’
She giggled, nodded once again and then said, ‘May I know your name before you leave…?’
‘I- I’m Scott. And you?’
‘Sylvia. Pleasure to meet you.’
I couldn’t help but smile and as I turned, I waved. I paused for a moment to watch her waving back at me.
As I left the platform, I wondered whether I would set my eyes on her again.
That was a conversation that lasted only about three-quarters of a minute, 45 seconds of my life I would never forget. It was a chanced encounter. Or was it just another twist of fate?
‘I’m sorry… But what was your name again?’
I goggled at Sylvia in disbelief. It had only been mere days since we last met and she had supposedly forgotten who I was. I figured she must be pulling my leg and so I played along.
‘Oh, I’m Scott. A pleasure to meet you.’
She squealed out in utter shock.
‘You’re Scott! Sorry… How could I forget you? My bad…’
I grinned and sat down on the bench beside her and noticed that same diary she had. I gestured at it. She gave me a worried countenance and I got the message. I apologized profusely.
I took out a book and started to read. She followed in sequence. After about a few minutes or so, I started to talk about myself; my aspirations of writing a story and such. She said that I should write it and she would support me wholeheartedly. I nodded blankly, knowing my writing skills were not budding and I would have a low possibility of producing a decent one yet alone a masterpiece I aspire to create.
However, no matter how much I asked about her, she refused to say a word and said it was better if I did not know.
This continued on for weeks and dragged on to months. All the time, I’d do the talking. I didn’t mind though. It’s because whenever I’m with her, I feel a sensation I have never quite experienced before. I wasn’t positively sure what it was.
One day, out of the blue moon, she started to talk. She told me of her intentions to write a story too. However, she said that no matter how hard she tried, it would be to no avail. And what she told me next was horrifying…
***
I paused for a moment and put down the paper. I reminisced about what Sylvia told me a few months back.
‘I… have a memory defect.’
She didn’t give me time to flinch and continued bluntly.
‘You see, I had a car accident when I was twelve and since then, I forget about what happens thirteen hours later.’
She slid her hand elegantly into her bag, took out that pink diary and gave it to me. I browsed through it swiftly while listening to her.
‘I have to write the occurrences of the day every night so I’ll be able to read about it the next day to remember everything. And that’s exactly why I can’t possibly write a novel by myself… Everyday I’m a different person and I’ll have different thoughts about the novel. I…’
At that point, tears started to trickle out of her eyes. I surprised myself the moment I embraced and comforted her. I promised her that I would help her accomplish her goal.
For the next few months, I would meet up with her at an array of places; the beach, the train station, or at my house to discuss about it.
However, simply put, all of our meetings were not just for business. We even had fun at arcades, theme parks and going out to stargaze. I felt blissful those couple of months. All the adjectives in the world could never describe that wonderful fervor I felt when I was with her.
I snapped back to reality at the echoing ring the grandfather clock made at intervals of an hour. I recalled Sylvia telling me to meet her on the hill where we’d go stargazing, right after reading her story. And so I continued on reading…
And that made her a recluse in the world. Although many would admire her for her beauty, she knew everyone just wanted to manipulate her and she’d shut herself from the world. But one day, a prince came into her life. The princess was overjoyed with his sincerity and spent several weeks with him.
However, her heart would slowly crack every second she was without him or whenever he was talking to other people. And soon the grief engulfed her and her heart shattered. She knew that she wouldn’t have known pain if she did not know love.
She saw the pathetic state she was in and carried on to burn everything that reminded her of him. She burnt down the halls, the libraries, magnificent dining rooms; the whole castle. And then she proceeded to undo the only thing left that served as a reminder of him. She threw herself off the cliff the castle overlooked.
I was left speechless by this gloomy ending but remained silent as I headed towards our rendezvous point. I did not expect what came next.
She did not look directly at me and she only said these words: ‘Look, Scott… I’m sure you’ve read the story and that is exactly how I feel about you.’
She took out her pink diary and started to tear out a sum of pages.
‘These are the pages of the days I’ve spent with you. I’m sorry but I need to forget you…’
‘W-Wait!’
But it was already too late. She flung the pieces of paper towards the sky and as if in the movies, they were swept away dramatically by the wind.
***
‘No! I’ll make amends in the next crucial thirteen hours. It’s true that without love, we won’t know loneliness but the loneliness makes loving and being loved more worthwhile. I may have faded from her memoirs but she’ll never be erased from my heart.’
And so I started to write the story of my dreams I longed to write.
‘My dream is only that one person.’
I liked that place. The abandoned train station where nobody came was quiet and tranquil – the best place for reading alone. However, someone got here before me that day…
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