Listening by Sophie Fahmy

(1 rating) Rate this Story (5 best) 1 2 3 4 5

Introduction
"I'm Alice, I didn't write this book, I merely stepped into my best friends' room and pleaded to god that he'd bring her back. My tears fell on her pillow, my lip quivered, my hands shook and as I opened my eyes and focused on her bookcase, that's when I saw it. Her diary. I forced myself up from the bed, my unwillingness was not because I didn't really want to get up or couldn't be bothered. My unwillingness came from wanting to just lay there and hope that I die too. So that I could be with her again. As I started to read the diary my eyes widened, my heart thumped within my chest. I held it tightly and I just ran. I ran so fast my legs burned with pain and my lungs almost burst. For inside the diary was my soul and hers in cased together. I found this when I finally got the guts up to venture into her room, at 23, 6 years after her death, she was 18 and this...
This is my life."




I sat with photos of everyone in my life; well everyone that means something to me, laid astray on the kitchen table. The light of the most perfect summers day coming through the blinds so perfect I could hear the faint cheerful yelps of children having water fights. I'm sure, if I listened really carefully and closed my eyes I could picture a stream, with crystal blue water and smooth rocks at the bottom. I came out of my own world of imagination in my head, I felt the beads of sweat on my forehead. Drinking from my glass feeling much cooler, the ice cold liquid going down my throat. I always love how the little drips on the edge almost race to the bottom. I watch them imagining the gun go off and when they smash into the ground I feel sad, that they wont know who won. Mum says I have ADHD because I cant concentrate on one thing for long enough, but I can I just like to take my time concentrating on everything. I turn my attention to the photo album covering the back of a photo of me and Alice, in glue I press it down and notice our facial expressions. I'm smiling baring my teeth, my eyes open, my whole body shouting ‘this is the best, push my higher !'. My cheeks red like roses, my hands clinging to the metal chains. Then I see poor Alice, she's just looking at the camera as if she didn't have a soul. I mean she doesn't look sad but definitely not happy, she just looks like she can't express how she's feeling inside, like its locked up and given up trying to escape. I really don't think I've ever seen her happy. I, like the trapped emotions inside of her, have given up trying to make her smile.

I picked up the next photo of an old birthday party and it was at the indoor adventure playground. I always loved going there, sometimes I wished that I could be there alone marvelling all the colours. But I wasn't alone, there was Alice and that didn't bother me if it was just me and Alice because well, she's more like a ghost than a person. A strange presence, a soul that's always thinking. No, what bothered me was, I was only invited because it was one of those parties where every child in the class is invited, whether the birthday girl likes it or not.
The room was filled with florescent pink dresses running up and down the cushioned mats shrieking and a giggling.
"ooh what did you get? My daddy said he'd get me a pony" one said, boasting.
"I got a couple of really rubbish books, but daddy says he'll buy me a bigger pony than you" the birthday girl said.
I remember hearing this and smiling to Alice saying
"Thank god we're not like that !"
She sat silent staring ahead at the cream white walls, motionless.
As a little girl I always remember not being like the others, I'd never try to boast about what I had, and through Alice I learnt that maybe listening wasn't such a bad thing.