Trisha
So that’s it then, Art’s dead. Chris is too embarrassed and guilty to face me – to face anyone. I did not even have the heart to attend Art’s funeral. I could not even eat properly, could not focus on my classes. Could not live the way I used to live.
Ella’s been worried about me, but I just can’t bring myself to be the way I used to be.
Although I blamed Chris for what happened, I also blamed myself for giving him false hope and for realizing too late that it has always been Art.
Every night, in my dreams, I would look for Art’s number hoping that he’s still there. That even if it’s just a dream, I wanted to spend time with him again, just like the way we used to.
But no matter how hard I think of him, no matter how hard I would think of the places we went, I would only end up in that dark cold place. I tried it over and over again but nothing changed, nothing happened.
“Is this really the end?” I whispered to myself.
“I still have many things to ask him.”
Ella entered the room slowly.
“Are you ready Trish?” She smiled weakly at me, trying to lighten me up.
I agreed on her offer that we would eat something outside and get some fresh air.
I only nodded at her as I stood up and went to change.
“Okay, I’ll wait for you outside. Take your time.” She looked at me continuing to smile but sadness still filled her eyes.
She turned to walk outside but stopped and looked at me again.
“But if you don’t want to, it’s okay not to force yourself. We’ll try this another time.” She suggested.
“No it’s okay, I guess I’ll try to go outside.” I answered weakly as I got a pair of pants and shirt.
“Okay, I’ll wait outside then.”
I don’t like to see Ella also struggling because of me, at least I’ll try to go outside.
I put on the pants but something is inside the pocket. So I pulled it out and looked closely at it.
It’s a label of a medicine, my medicine.
“When was the last time I wore this pants?”
I can’t seem to remember that I took my medicine while at school, and the last time I took some was when I spent the whole day here with Trish so when-
Then I remembered the time when Art and I drove north. I was wearing a pants but I’m not sure if this is it.
Art gave me meds for my headache, was this it?
How did he know that I use these meds for my headaches?
I also recalled how he never asked me about my information when filling it inside the clinic.
“Art, do you know me even before college?” I asked myself but the question seemed familiar. As if I had already asked him once.
Suddenly an image of him walking towards me while shielding himself from the sand came inside my mind.
“Ugh!” I sat down on the floor, my head is aching again.
I recalled what happened. I was shouting some things at him as he was filled with sadness and guilt.
“What’s this?!”
I tried to calm my head, because I wanted to know what happened and what made me react like that.
I breathed in and breathed out.
This feeling felt familiar, but I’m not letting myself be plunged into it. I massage my temples and tried to calm myself.
After sometime, the head ache was gone but I’m still filled with questions.
“Art.” I whispered to myself and I started to cry again.
“Don’t cry, I promised that I will no longer cry.” I mumbled to myself.
“Trish!” Ella entered the room again and immediately hugged me while I was crying on the floor.
She hugged me as I bawled there like a little child. It’s like all the feelings I suppressed after crying it all out inside the dream, came back to the surface and demanded to felt.
We only sat there until I have calmed down. Ella continued to hug me without saying anything, in which I very much appreciate it. She really knows when the right time to talk is and when it’s not.
We sat there then we heard someone knocking at the door.
“I’ll go get it, then I’ll come back with water. Just stay here.” Ella said as she assisted me to sit down on the bed.
I heard voiced from the door but had no energy to pay attention to it.
I took the mirror on my side table and looked at my reflection.
“Gosh, you really look miserable.” I told myself trying to lighten up the mood.
Ella came back with a glass of water and a notebook.
“What’s that?” I asked Ella.
“It’s Art’s. Chris gave it, said that you need to read it.” She handed me the glass of water and the notebook.
I took the notebook and stared at it.
What’s inside this notebook? Although I’m curious, I also felt nervous. Why am I feeling nervous?
“I should leave you alone, for now. Call me when you need me, okay?” Ella said as she went inside her room.
I turned the pages of the notebook with shaky hands.
I skimmed the first few pages and found out its Art’s journal.
“Ever since I can actually remember I have been dreaming about her a lot. I never got the courage to talk to her personally before though, but the moment we talked again for the first time, my dreams about her started feeling like she was not only a part of my mind but the real her – the real Trisha.
I remember feeling this way when we met at the Great Hall from Harry Potter. I was just dreaming randomly but suddenly I thought of her and her fascination with Harry Potter. I then felt my surroundings change then I saw her. Dumbfounded by what she’s seeing, maybe guessing where she is. While she was looking around, I also looked around. She then called out to me. I was a little surprise since she felt real. Her voice felt real, not just a part of my memories of her. I stared at her, figuring why out of all the dreams I had of her, this felt different.
I was suddenly annoyed at myself. Of course this is not real. What am I expecting? Some magic, connecting my dreams and hers?”
I stopped reading, as I felt tears flowing from my eyes again.
I’ve been crying a lot lately, when will I not?
“We also went surfing but I drowned, a huge mistake. I know she had her trauma because of what happened to us when we were younger. What was I even thinking? Suggesting to surf all of the sudden then drowning?
Well I can’t help it. I was so happy seeing her being happy and comfortable riding the waves. I heard from her parents that she’s gradually warming up to the ocean, again. And I did not notice there was a huge wave. Then I drowned. A pretty lame excuse huh?
After that, it’s as though she was reminded of what happened to us, and I felt guilty for ruining the moment, again. For ruining everything.”
How did he even know I’m into surfing and was traumatized? And what does he mean by ‘to us’?
I felt my head ached again, so I drank my medicine before continuing. I felt myself being dehydrated because although I’m still crying, tears no longer fell from my eyes.
“Trisha asked me yesterday night what I needed to escape the real world. It’s funny, she said the dream would lead me to something that would help me do that. Then the dream led me to her inside that grand hall. I guess she’s all that I needed to escape, huh?”
I continued reading his journal.
“I took her to my favourite spot in the mountains, I also told her about how we grew up in the same neighbourhood, but I did not tell her that we grew up together and that we’re neighbours. I guess it was not yet time, since her head ached after trying to remember.
Good move Art. She was already having fun with you but you just got to mention something about the past. Geez.”
We grew up together and are neighbours? What’s this about?
“Chris likes Trisha, how should I react to that? I guess I should support them and tell Trisha about how Chris likes him. They’re even becoming closer than ever. She’s better off with him than me.”
No Art, I’m better off with you than any other guy.
“I saw Chris and Trisha cooking together at the rooftop, so as childish it may seem I also suggested to Trisha in our dreams that we would cook something. I told myself this is more than enough but I know a deeper part of me wished I could also cook something with Trisha in real life.
We cooked at the place we usually spend our time during summer, on the cliff overlooking the sea. That place was one of her favourite places. It was where our family would bond together while cooking different kinds of food.
Also, I cooked batchoy for her. I remembered how she loved it when we were younger.”
I loved it when I was younger? Also, what does he even mean about our families spending summer together?
“Trisha went on a date with Chris. I was about to tell her more about how I felt about her before her date, but seeing her all dressed up and excited, I just could not. I know she’ll be happier with Chris than with me.”
I recalled how he was about to say something to me that morning but decided not to continue.
“Trisha and I went ice skating. But before that, we kinda confessed to each other. Although I can’t tell her who I am in real life since we could probably forget about each other and I don’t want that. It’s a dead end but I’m too selfish to let her go even if it’s just only a dream.”
I recalled our kiss, and how we spent each night together after that like a couple. We were so happy inside our dreams back then.
“Trisha started calling me Art again, and we went north but a tragedy happened. Is this what I get just because I wanted to be selfish?
I wanted to be honest with myself, to be selfish but it’s hurting her. I’m hurting her. The moment I decided to face the past, the past became a wall that is more unbreakable.
I’ll end it all here. There’s no point, we can’t be happy together. She will never remember me, I’ll always be a part of her past and will never be her future.”
I remembered how it would have been a wonderful drive to north if only I did not snap at him. But why did I even snapped at him? What does he mean about this tragedy?
“Although I kept on telling myself that she’s better off with Chris, it hurts me every time I saw them together. I could not help but wonder how it would feel if I was the one who’s with her and not Chris.”
“I want to die. Help me.”
I cried even more as I read his last entry. Seven words filled with uncertainty and pain. He was in pain but I never noticed it. I was never there to help him.
And the saddest thing about all of this is that after wanting to die, he wanted to live again, but was not given a chance.
“Oh Art.”
I hugged his journal and felt something fell.
I picked it up and saw that it’s a folded picture of me when I was younger at the beach while carrying my surfing board.
“Where did you get this Art? Who are you?”
I unfolded the picture and saw a boy standing beside me, smiling at the camera.
“Art.” I whispered to myself.
Then all at once images came to my mind. Images of me and Art when we were younger, how we spent almost every day together. How we went surfing together. How our family spent every summer together.
I remembered what happened when we last went surfing, his challenge to me. I remembered how he looked as he drowned in front of me.
I remembered how I thought he was dead and how I blamed myself for his death.
Everything, I remembered everything. His face as I screamed at him, the last time we saw each other when we were younger.
“Aaaarg!” I screamed as I held the pillow against my mouth. It feels like my head is splitting apart.