Entry 131

I told her I delivered a baby, well, Djenita and I delivered a baby, and what did Sid say?

“What do I have to do to get you to be my midwife?”

I literally stopped in the middle of the street.

She pulled me, luckily there were no cars, “Not now,” she said smiling like it’s all just a joke. “But at some point, you know…”

“What?”

“I’m not pregnant. I just hope to be at some point, and I’d like to be prepared.”

For the rest of the walk to River we dreamed about our future. Today, I honestly believe that Ayla will come back. That the three of us, Sid, Ayla and I will be aunts to each other’s kids. Someday, when the darkness of war is over, when the day of peace comes like the rising sun, we will have normal lives. We will have homes, and raise our children.

Leila was just leaving River when we arrived.

“Update them on my spirit animal,” she said to Benjamin.

He shook his head.

“Okay,” Leila looked at us, “I’ve given it some thought, and I’ve realised that my spirit animal is a cat. And his is a dog.”

“No,” Sid waved a hand. “You can’t be domestic animals.”

“What? Why?” Leila sounded truly disappointed.

“Consider a fox for you, and a wolf for him. Though, he can still be a bear, and I like rabbit for you. I’m a deer, so you and I could be like buddies.”

“Right… I like that… I have to go. We’ll pick this up later.”

Leila left and while I was trying to figure out how did the whole spirit animal thing become so serious, Sid said “Alma delivered a baby.”

What’s got into her today?

“Cool. Boy or a girl?”

“Boy,” she replied for me.

“Now you’re thinking you can depend on her when your time comes,” Benjamin nodded with a smile.

“See, he got it,” she shook her head at me. “Why were you spooked by the idea?”

The smile on Benjamin’s face, I swear it lit up the whole café.

I was just sat there listening to them taking the piss.

On our way back, I couldn’t believe how Sid had changed. She’s so much more open and blunt now. Confident. I don’t know, like she’s found both legs; she’s no longer tilting on one, but stands firmly on both. Which is odd, because Benjamin has only one leg. Yet he’s – I’m losing it.

Walking back, over the bridge, Sid said “He’s so in love with you.”

I froze again. “Stop it! I’m serious. Stop shocking me like that.”

She laughed, grabbed my arm and we walked in silence for a while.

“I think I’d like to have kids when I turn 25,” she said softly.

I was doing the math: She’s not even 18 yet, so that’s at least 7 years.

The world is right again. Seven years! Who knows what will happen in seven years. I might be ready to get married by then.

Entry 130

We were back in that darn building three times today, each time it was higher and higher floor. I’m going to dream the stairs in Lamela. Tallest residential building in the Balkan is not something to be proud of. It basically means some moron was trying to see how many people they can fit into a hundred square meters. Animals shouldn’t be cooped up like that.

The third time we were called there was the charmed – 24^th floor, no lift, emergency. A woman was having a baby. Djenita had more experience than me. Since I came to the hospital I’ve only assisted with two births, one was a complication where they had to suck the baby out. It was a nightmare. We were both praying for a simple, normal, old-fashioned birth. Thank God, we got that. Because, even with that, Djenita and I were sweating ice cubes.

Oh the relief when the baby started screaming. My legs were shaking as we went down the stairs. Maybe I was too tired, but I think it was more than that.

On the way down, we met eight people carrying supplies for the baby. It really got me thinking – babies need a lot more than grownups. WTF is that about?

Plus, a woman who is expecting should move so that a doctor can come to her if she needs one. We got lucky today. Really fucking lucky. It could have been so horrific. But it wasn’t. It was amazing. We helped a new baby boy come into the world. What can I say? Good luck kid?

Entry 129

We went to see Zamira again. She told her neighbours she can’t breathe. Some were tired of her complaining. I spoke to one of her neighbours, a young angry man who claimed that he’s helping as much as he can, bring her food and water, and putting her fire on, and making sure she’s alive – I get that it’s not easy. I even told him that checking she’s alive must be the hardest part. I mean, it isn’t easy for a sixteen-year-old boy to go into his neighbour’s house hoping he can hear sounds because he really isn’t ready to see a dead body.

“She’s not faking, if that helps at all,” I told Kasim. “She honestly believes she can’t breathe.”

“Why would she believe that?” He said angrily.

“Because she’s been locked up in that apartment for too long.” I couldn’t tell him that she asked us if the sun still comes up. It’s insane, but that’s the reality. “Imagine you can’t go out? You guys have fun just meeting on these stairs.”

He walked away, head slightly bowed, kicking the air in front of him. 

This time, Zamira asked if the birds are still flying. They don’t come up that high.

We had a little more time today to spend with Zamira. She told us how she loved hiking.

“You’d lose all love for it now,” Djenita smiled, “climb those stairs few times a day and it would wear out.”

Zamira didn’t seem as amused as I think Djenita hoped she’d be.

“The lift works sometimes. Maybe they can call you when it does?” Zamira said almost like an apology for calling us. Djenita’s smile was wiped off.

I almost said how we like climbing the stairs, but then realised that would be wrong. So, we were wrong if we like climbing and if we don’t like climbing. Yet, honestly, that was the truth. The stairwell in this building is the place to be. Rows of people are constantly going up and down. The ones going down are making fun of the ones going up. It’s like ‘ha-ha, check me out, going easy, you have struggle’. It’s stupid. 

“Visiting you is a pleasure well worth the climb,” Djenita nodded at the old lady.

“I second that,” I added. It might have been a lie, but hey, it was for a good cause. I searched my mind for something else positive to say. There are no mice or bugs of any kind – nothing wants to climb so high. All creatures great and small give up by the time they reach fifth floor. Nineteenth floor is like out of space for them.

Bottom line: people should NOT live in high-rise buildings. Houses! That’s the only way to live. WTF!?!? It’s just not right for humans. If birds make their nests way down, humans shouldn’t live that high up. 

Entry 128

Yesterday was amazing, but… I’ve been thinking about my feelings for Benjamin. The sight of him makes me want to just chill. The sound of his voice feels like home. I think he might feel the same about me. But I don’t know. And I need to know. I need it. I need it so so so much. It’s like a yearning.

I keep thinking about that night Sid and I looked at the stupid cards. The death card and how it stood in the way. It is so unfair. Normal people don’t have ‘death’ standing in their way. Why should I? Isn’t it enough that death has taken so much from me? Shouldn’t I be compensated rather than tormented even more?

I am so desperate for a response, I asked the mirror expecting Ayla to speak back. Either she doesn’t know, or she’s refusing to tell me. Naaah… She’d tell me if she knew. And if she doesn’t know, who does? Benjamin, that’s who. And I can’t ask him. He never showed up in my mirror.

I need to forget this, don’t I? I need to just let it go.

Entry 127

Sid and I were the only people walking the streets. Blanket of snowflakes were dancing through the air and nonchalantly falling on everything. I could see few more baths in our future.

River was empty. For a moment, we were worried it might be closed, but not so. Benjamin is as crazy as us.

“What the hell are you two doing here?” He said as soon as we walked in.

“Fine way to welcome your only customers,” I smiled. Am I a customer? I’ve never paid for anything in that place?

We sat down at the bar.

“I was kind-a thinking, should you be here?” Sid spoke softly, slowly, as if she wanted to make sure he knows she’s just worried about him.

“What Sid is trying to say is: What the fuck is wrong with you walking in this weather on only one leg?”

He laughed “I have two legs. I got one as a birthday present.”

“You did?” Sid leaned to take a closer look. It’s funny how people do that reflexively. They want to see, even though they can tell that nothing is visible, he’s wearing trousers. Considering the cold, he’s probably got layers on. We all do.

But, in that second, I was more concerned with his response. Sid didn’t know I gave him the leg. There was no time to tell her. It just sort of slipped my mind.

Benjamin served us some hot chocolate, and then went to the back room.

“This is hot chocolate!” Sid whispered as if it was illegal.

“I know…” I whispered back.

“No one has had this in a long time…” she continued to talk like we were doing something naughty. “Oh my! Where did you get the leg?” Luckily, she whispered that part as well, but the tone was much harsher.

“I stole it… ShShSh – don’t tell anyone.”

She laughed. Benjamin came out and the way he looked at her, I knew more questions were on the way.

“What did you put in her chocolate?” I’m not sorry, I had to prevent the questions.

 “Oh man, she’s drinking your one,” he winked at me.

The door squeaked and all three of us turned. Leila!

“What the hell are you doing here?” Benjamin was determined to make us all feel like we’ve crossed the line between brave and stupid.

“I had to get away. Can I come in?” Leila seemed much softer than I remembered.

I swear I thought I heard Benjamin say ‘And women are weaker sex, uff’, as he turned to get another cup to give Leila some hot chocolate as well.

There were three people in the café, all three females. We were all sat at the bar, Sid to my left, and Leila on my right, Benjamin in front of me.

The news of the suicides was all over the town, and Leila’s family were freaking out.

“I cared for them,” Sid said. “They seemed fine. I thought they were getting better.”

“People make themselves feel better in different ways,” Benjamin raised an eyebrow.

“I should have seen it. I just…” Sid shrugged.

“It’s not your fault,” Leila shook her head and took a sip of her drink. “There were others there who should know more than you, right? Did they see it?”

And just like that, Sid smiled. Why couldn’t I say something like that? 

One topic led to another. Empty cups were filled. We sat there, tucked away from the rest of the world, illuminated only by the moonlight reflected in the snow. 

The phone rang a few times. It was either for Leila or Sid. In both cases, mothers and fathers worried about warmth, food, and shelter.

At one point, Leila asked Sid about her education. That’s how we started talking about school and how I’m in my second year, and how crazy it is. And then Sid said something like how she wishes she was as smart as me. I could NOT believe my ears.

“What the freaking heck are you talking about?” I sat up on the stool. “You’re smarter than me.”

“How do you figure?”

“How you can take us both into a world that only a genus can create. I can’t even repeat it!”

“That’s not smart, that’s creative,” she said calmly even though I was almost barking at her.

“See, smarter than me,” I looked at Leila.

Next thing I know Benjamin wants to have an animal as well. All three of us agreed that he’s a bear.

“Leila is a bunny,” Benjamin suggested.

“Oy!” Leila seemed more than a little surprised.

Sid and I laughed.

“What’s wrong with bunnies?” Benjamin shrugged.

“They don’t fly!” Leila argued in a mocking tone. It was going from funny to hilarious, or we were just on sugar-high.

“So, you want to be a fly?”

“No! I want to be a bird!”

“Birds are separate…” Sid said as the door opened and Leila’s cousin came in. They came to ‘help Leila get home’.

It was getting late, so Sid and I stayed for a bit with the serious people (Leila’s cousins are two mafia-wonna-bes), and then we left. All the way home Sid and I giggled about Leila and her bunny. Why was it so funny? Now I’m laughing because that rhymes.

Time to get some sleep…  

Entry 126

Snow is great. I’m very grateful for snow. It’s looks amazing, makes everything beautiful… Arhhh!

Okay, the only problem is walking in the fucking snow, especially when there’s no time to be careful. For crying out loud, it took me twice as long to get to the hospital, and I swear I thought I was gona break my neck on the way back. I wish I had some skates because the whole city is one huge ice ring. We removed the snow, but there is no salt. The little bit of water that was left on the streets froze into thin ice. Can’t even fucking see it no matter how hard you look. Ballerinas couldn’t keep balance. This is ridiculous!

Maybe I’m being a bit too harsh. Let’s just calm down and think about the fact that I had a bath because of the snow. So, even though the snow has turned ever molehill into a mountain, it is just a small obstacle.

I’m such an idiot. I should have just slid down the path from the hospital to the gates. Why didn’t I do that?

Do I need to mention that we had seventeen people come in with broken bones? Getting really good at fixing those.

Sid is doing better. She spoke to Doctor Lilly. That woman is just out of this world. How does she do it? Does she have like a magic power to get into people’s heads? Oh! I should have that power! No, I shouldn’t… Okay, too tired to think straight.

Entry 125

It’s still snowing. Everyone is out on the street clearing the piles of the sparkly white fluff. I joined, of course. Even after a shift at the hospital, I had to play in the snow. Except, I can’t play. I’m too old for that. So, shovel was my toy.

Seeing it all piled up like that gave me an idea – bath! I took enough snow to fill the bath, plus boiled some to make the water timid. I had enough water to have a real bath. Like soaked my whole body. It was amazing. Every pore in my skin is thanking me.

Suddenly, everyone was taking the snow back into their house. But not before I took enough to prepare a bath for Sid. She deserves it. Pulling doubles at the hospital, dealing with unpredictable. Carrying guilt that isn’t ever hers.

It was almost done, just one more pot of boiling water to make it nice and warm when I heard her key in the lock. I ran at the door.

“Close your eyes! Close your eyes!” I said quickly. “I have a surprise for you.”

“Why is the whole place full of steam, and why does it smell like chamomile?”

The pot on the stove was squealing. “I just need to pour some more boiling water and it’ll be done.”

“What will be done?” She followed me to the kitchen, and then got out of the way as I carried a large pot of boiling water to the bathroom. “What is that?”

“I made you a bath… You need to relax.”

“Oh my…” she stared at the water that was snow only an hour earlier. “I can’t remember the last time I had a proper bath.”

This might be the best gift I have given anyone. However, she’s been in there way too long. Should I get her? I know she’s fine, she’s humming and singing. But the water must be cold by now… Oh she’s a big girl. She knows when the water is too cold. I should let her enjoy it as long as she wants to. 

Entry 124

I was at the hospital, coming out of a night shift, when the news of two suicides came. Two women at the psychiatry ward took their own lives. They shared a room. They were found just half an hour too late.

I run across the park to check on Sid. Our beautiful bench just sat there freezing. It seemed like a different life, yet only few months ago she and I sat there escaping the reality.

“I spoke to them yesterday,” Sid said, looking straight at me as if she feared I might not believe her. “They seemed fine.”

She wasn’t doubting me, she was doubting herself.

I didn’t know what to say. I just hugged her and whispered “Let’s go home”.

There was nothing more we could do. It was almost like a ‘job for the adults’, and we’d only be getting in the way. She glanced back as we walked through the park and to the main gate.

Tormented by what had she missed, what should she pay more attention to, how did she not see that they were not fine, Sid wasn’t herself at all.

“They seemed fine because they came to a decision,” she had to come to a reasonable explanation herself since I was useless. “They were too fine,” she frowned. And then looked at me. “You…” she got up and took a few paces, “AND! Most other patients, might I add,” she raised her finger, “you all want them dead. And that’s reasonable. That’s the difference!” She stood with her back to the window.

At first, her words shocked the bee-gees out of me. I have no idea how she went from the window back to the sofa.

“It’s snowing!” I sounded far more excited than I intended.

Luckily, and thank God for this, Sid is crazy about snow. Looking back, my reaction to her troubles was pathetic. She is a much better friend.

We went out to dance in the snowflakes – first snow of the season. They inspired her to have power over water, and the next thing I knew we were back in her imagination.

I suggested she speaks to Doctor Lily.

“Oh I am going to,” she nodded. “I want her opinion on how reasonable is it that people who’ve suffered so much want their tormentors dead. It makes sense, right?”

“It’s hard to trust this world while they’re in it,” I whispered.

“Exactly! And we have to have trust. Even if we know that accidents can happen, we still trust this world.”

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the world, and people. My Grandpa used to say that human factor is the key in everything. Hmm…

Entry 123

If I want to stop feeling like a fake nurse, someone who got lost and somehow managed to get a nurse’s uniform on, I should probably do more studying. Instead, I’m piling the books, feeling good about having them all ready for when I have the time. Like being prepared to study is good enough.  And then thinking how I’ve done an hour, maybe two, that’s good, right? Wrong! I have got to take this shit seriously. It’s not about how many hours I’ve done, it’s about how many books I should have done. There is a fucking schedule to keep.

I miss Ayla! She’d never let it get so messy. Then again, high school was easier. Maybe even she would struggle with such huge workload? Who am I kidding? No, she wouldn’t. She’d be like ‘Finally, a real challenge’.

In my defence though, we are really busy with practical work. Isn’t that more important? So what if I don’t know what some bone is called? I know what it does, and how to fix it if it breaks.

Okay, now I’m being stupid.

When I think about it, even our practical work is very limited. We have lots of patients, that’s true, but…

Pink pills for everyone – we have kid’s size and adult size. It’s the same thing just different dosage: salt and sugar. People need bread, but all we have are some homemade pills. They weren’t even tested, there’s no need. There’s nothing in them but salt and sugar. Drink with water. That’s it.

Lack of food means all my patients are underweight. I can’t learn real medicine in these conditions. Then again, if it were not for these conditions, would I be at the hospital at all? Really doubt it!

I have got to stop with the excuses and get on with work.

Autumn is still here, but I swear it smells like snow.

Entry 122

I went to River to chill and relax. Oh boy, was I wrong. As soon as I walked in I could hear two idiots talking so loudly the whole café could hear them. They were talking about some article published by a local newspaper about an article published in a German newspaper. I figured, this might just be the kind of information that could interest me.

The idiots went on and on about how we are done, we are all as good as dead, how there is no point in fighting, we should just enjoy the little time we have left. It was literally like ‘we should let them kill us’. Who the fuck doesn’t fight for their right to life?

“We can only choose the right now,” one of them said, “and I choose to enjoy not fight and struggle. That would be stupid. And everyone in the world sees us as stupid for trying to fight.”

I could feel my eyes pop open. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

One of them saw me and said “You don’t agree?”

“You idiots choosing the moment is what got us into this mess in the first place,” I snapped. “If you paid a little more attention to the future and what others were doing, the war could have been avoided. Now, that it’s here, you want us to die?”

“No, I…” he shook his head, his face red with fury.

I thought I’d see if I can push him further. “No, you! You agree and side with those who think we should all die. That makes you just as bad. Maybe even worse since you are one of us. YOUR life is at stake too!”

“I didn’t say…”

“Fight is never a waste of time!” I interrupted again.

“Listen!” the guy raised his finger. 

“No, she’s right.” Benjamin said to cool down the tensions. I was a bit disappointed. Almost like I wanted to fight.

“Yes…” three other voices added.

I looked around. Their faces seemed familiar, but I don’t think I met any of them. Or anyone else nodding at the time.

I also realised that only one of the men was replying. And even he stopped when others voiced their opinions. His ‘friend’ did not even look at me since I chimed in.

Sid come while the two idiots were preparing to leave. She could sense that something happened. Few people chimed in to fill her on the details. Everyone was calling her Sid. How? I don’t know those people, apart from Benjamin. And Benjamin calls her Sid because that’s how I introduced them. Bless her heart, she has become Sid.

After the ‘debriefing’, she and I sat at a table in the far corner. We had our little chat about the future, and how this war will be over, and how we’ll travel. I noticed that she didn’t mention anyone returning to me. Probably because we were in a public area, with millions of ears around us – well, about a dozen or so ears, but those will be talking, so it might just as well be millions. It still felt weird not to hear her insist how ‘my sister will come back’.

Entry 121

Life is better with books, but between Sid’s and mine, we might have to move out so our books have somewhere to live. Or… we need to organise better?

I remember seeing books on small spaces. Never thought I’d need any knowledge of that. We always had space. Ayla and I shared a room, but it was almost as big as this whole apartment. Besides, we didn’t keep all our stuff in our room. Most of the books were in the library, seasonal clothes were in boxes in hallway cupboards, and we had electricity, so no need for a bike that makes it. Now, in this tiny apartment, space is in scarce supply.

I can’t help but wonder how did I get here. I know what happened, but how did that lead to me living in a town I’ve never even thought about, in some guy’s home, with a nurse who is a friend and the best fairy a girl could ask for?

What do I have in the world?

This apartment is now full. Sid has brought a lot of stuff, but I seem to have gathered a lot too. I know I didn’t buy anything. All my stuff belonged to someone else who donated it. I wish they knew how much it means to me. As hard as it is to accept charity, it would be so much worse if there was no charity to accept. How would I live?

As if losing everyone I know wasn’t catastrophic enough (though I still think someone will return to me, but right now, I have no one), I also lost basic things to live. Sometimes I look up at the sky and I don’t know if the stars are to blame, or they’re just my final destination where everything will be set right.

Entry 120

Am I evil? Is my desire for revenge pathetic? I feel like it is. Or at least it might be…

Someone was filming men returning home from the frontline. One of the men returned to find his whole family had been murdered. They didn’t show that, they shared footage of him walking around a garden, like he was lost. They showed him leaning on a tree. He said he wants to find the men who did that and kill them. But then he said: “I could never kill their children, or sisters, or parents. How could a soldier kill an old man who can barely move?”

I don’t want to kill their children, or any member of their family. So, maybe I’m not completely different? Though, that guy didn’t show any confusion. He didn’t lose his mind like I did. It wasn’t about revenge. The way he spoke, it was about freeing the world of such monster so they can never kill again. His strength has left such a huge impression on me. The way he handled himself. The way he was clear on his mission. I can’t get it out of my mind.

What is a soldier? It’s not a pathetic murderer. Someone like that is just psychotic. A soldier is so much more than a psychopath. A soldier must have dignity and integrity, or they should never be given a weapon.

I need to learn to be a real soldier.

Entry 119

Sid came home crying. She said she managed to hold the tears until she got into the building, but then they just started flowing. I gave her a hug, and then started crying myself.

We cried right there in our hallway for a while, until we needed tissues. By the time we sat on the sofa, wiping our noses and faces, we were both exhausted. We just sat in the dark, silent, listening to the ‘popcorn and fireworks’.

At one point, out of nowhere, she said: “Imagine if we could…” The next thing I know we were acting out scenes from our imaginary world. We put on some music, made come chicory, had some jam, and just imagined a world where we had power. She still insists on having power over water, I got me a sword.

It was great fun, and really needed.

Entry 118

I went to sleep feeling on top of the world. Four hours later I woke up feeling like the whole world should be dead. I should be dead. I want to kill. What the fuck!

I know why I feel this way, I just don’t understand how it comes back. It’s like if I let my guard down for just a second, if I let myself see only the good in life for only a moment, the bad stuff lurks in the background just waiting for me to relax so it can take over my whole body.

It’s like I have to keep all the bad stuff bottled in, and no matter what’s going on, I have to make sure the lid stays firmly shut or all the bad stuff will just come out. I can’t live like that. Being in the moment is all I have left. Take that away and what do I have?

Entry 117

What a day! They brought a guy with so many injuries, it took me almost an hour to write them all. He had a pulse. So, the doctor had the obligation to try and save him. Ninteen hours in the operating room, candles were being replaced because they burned down completely, and the guy was still alive. I felt like I’m dying.

Amir is now in recovery. Shocking! Looks like he’s going to make it.

That’s what I want to do. I want to be able to save people like that. It was a fucking miracle and nothing less. But, right now, I need shower and I need sleep.  

Entry 116

Sid’s family, like mine, have the ‘winter food’ ritual, they call it harvest ritual, but it’s the same thing – gather all the fruits and vegetables, and prepare them for winter. Large pots and wooden spoons came out. Everyone gathered. There is no electricity, so the whole thing has to be done on a fire outside. Parts of the ritual were always done that way, electricity or not. Wild apples jam needs eight hours on slow heat to turn the juice into a thick liquid.

Sid felt guilty for not pitching in this year, so she decided to go for at least half a day, do some peeling, and stirring, and cleaning… there is a lot of work. She asked me if I want to come. I jumped at the chance – huge surprise. I’ve spent my whole life trying to avoid that ritual. Everything we spend days making, could be bought in the shops. That’s not the case anymore, and it wasn’t just about the work. It was about coming together.

It was another ‘bitter-sweet’ day. Sid’s family is a lot like mine, except smaller. They too have an ‘uncle Ned’, a woman called Sidika. She’s the smartest, the strongest, the bravest, but nobody gets it because she doesn’t have kids, she’s not a success, she hasn’t done much with her life – I feel sorry for her, and so does Sid. In fact, Sid told me that she chose the name Sid that night when I asked for her, because her aunt Sidika popped into her head. She managed to get half the name out, and then froze. It was a crazy night. Feels like a different life. The white curtain night. Hmm…

The issue of firewood has been sorted. I knew Sid’s dad wouldn’t let us go without heat.

Now, if only the issue of lies all over the world could be that easy. Even if I don’t read the ‘new’ lies, the ones I already know about pop up and stab me like an invisible knife. But I need to keep reading. I need to keep preparing the responses.

Entry 115

Yesterday, I wrote a letter to the editor of ‘The Guardian’ – British newspaper. It was three pages long, yet I didn’t say anything specific. I read it back to myself and wondered if I should send it. I needed a second opinion, so this morning, before Sid was awake, while the whole town was sleeping, I went to River. I sat on the front step, leaning on the locked door to the café, wondering if I remembered correctly that Benjamin is on morning shift, and what will I say if Ismar showed up.

My head was bowed when I heard Benjamin say “What’s wrong? What happened?”

It was so great to see him.

For once, we sat on the same side of the bar. I showed him the newspaper that got me thinking, I showed him the article I had written.

“What if they look for the person who sent this?” He looked sad.

“How would they do that?”

“How are you going to send it? Post?”

I know post isn’t working. I was going to ask one of the UN guys to pop it in the mailbox when they go home. And, of course, that would come right back to me.

“I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you. It’s hard for me, so…” his eyelids looked too heavy to stay up. I felt sorry for him. Why was I burdening him with this?

“I’m sorry…” I whispered.

“No, don’t ever be sorry!” He interrupted, the look on his face transformed as his eyes became wide open and colour returned to his cheeks. “I’m glad to see that you want to. It’s just not the right time. And…” he rubbed the back of his neck, “I hate to say it, but you have to be patient.”

The fact that he understood how hard it is  to be patient right now made a world of difference. Silver lining on my black cloud of hate and anger.

I had to reciprocate that understanding “People will start coming soon,” I smiled and got up.

He followed me to the door.

“Keep the articles. Keep preparing the responses. It’s good to be prepared. The time will come. Response will be needed at some point, just not right now.” He opened the door, and I left.

He’s right. If I sent anything now, I’d be playing with the devil. I have to stay silent. My time will come. I have to continue to keep an eye on the world, without any emotion. Leave the truth for now. Just let it be.  

Entry 114

Sid told me about how she waved goodbye to her love, as he went off to fight in the war. It was sad, and painful, yet also beautiful. It’s not mine to share, but it is one of those things that movies are made of. They just had their first date, well they managed to squeeze a second date in, but I hardly think that counts. He cannot die. He must survive this. She must get her man coming back from war. Welcoming him back is the only fair way to keep their story going. Though, she wouldn’t mind if he was ‘mildly injured’. She figured that would keep him out of danger at least for some time, and who knows, maybe the war will end soon. Unlikely, but a girl should dream.

There was one thing she said about it that keeps echoing in my mind: “At least the guilt factor is smaller.”

It’s like being happy isn’t allowed in a war. I know, I feel it all the time. I’ve found my calling, finally, and that’s so exciting, I am so happy about that, but I’m not allowed to be happy. Then again, my situation is extreme. Or at least… The voice at the back of my mind keeps changing every day. One moment I’m sure someone has survived, the next I don’t know. I can’t even imagine the worst case scenario. Anyway, I’ll just put that aside for now. What else am I to do with it? Not that it is aside ever. Everyone I see I’m checking if it’s someone I know. It’s driving me insane. The hope and then the disappointment…

I’m in my second year. It’s a little harder, but not too bad.

Getting cold now… worried about keeping the place warm. Must talk to Sid about plans.

The biggest thing on my mind right now is the articles I read in British newspapers. The article doesn’t even make sense. Why are these journalists and editors assuming that Serbs will tell the truth and nothing but the truth?

I have to do something. I want to write to these newspapers and tell them my story. I want them to publish the truth. Maybe I could draft something???

Entry 113

First day doing home visits. Wow… Where to begin?

One, it was one elderly person after another. Many of them have or had sons, but those sons are on the front line, or two meters underground. There is no one to care for them. When they live in smaller buildings, and lower floors, so they can at least see the world through their window, it’s fine, but one woman we went to see lives on the sixteenth floor of the highest building in this city. There is no electricity, so there is no lift. Which means she’s been stuck in her apartment for well over a year now. It’s like a prison, except even when you look out of the window, you’re so high up, you can’t see anything. It took everything I had to get up there and get back down. It’s just endless stairs.

She was having another panic attack – not surprising. Alcohol wasn’t helping much. So, I gave her a little something. Truth is, I melted a sweet in some water. The sweet was mint, so it turned the water a little green. Placebo effect can do wonders.

After she drunk the water, she was much calmer.  In fact, she was completely chilled like I sedated her. She spoke about her life before the war. We listened. Nothing out of the ordinary. She had friends, she went to the seaside every summer, she was a secretary in the big factory, but then she said one sentence that will stay with me forever.

“My windows face north. I can’t see the sun rise or fall. Is it still doing that?”

It broke my heart.

Djenita told her to look out of the window. “See how light it is? It won’t be this light for much longer because the sun is still doing just that. And, one day, you’ll see it again.”

I think Sid’s department needs to go out more. I am not cut out to help with mental issues. God knows I have too many of those myself.

Entry 112

MediAid came today to the hospital with a truck load of equipment, including prosthetic limbs. There was a leg perfect for Benjamin. Huge upgrade from what he’s got now. Much lighter, far better suited to his size and weight, and much more durable. Plus, it’s new. He has one that’s been used by someone somewhere, god knows who and where and for how long.

I knew I had to have it the moment I saw it. But getting it isn’t so easy. Lots of people need one of those. To get it to Benjamin, I’d have to get him to come to the hospital, he’d need an assessment, and a great reason why he should have the upgrade when others don’t even have what he’s got. My chances were small. So… I might have stolen it. Oh man!

They were unloading the equipment in the back, and it was all going to storage to be labelled and noted. I knew I had to get it before the hospital knows it has it. Many of these organisations are stopped multiple times on the way to us. By the time they reach their destination, they have no idea what they’ve got left. I do feel bad about it, but Benjamin needs it.

Hiding it was not easy. Luckily, I have experience. I hid it in the same place where I hid Dean’s arm.

At the end of my shift, I stayed a little longer to make sure I can get it out without being seen. It is not easy to smuggle something that size.

Taking it home was not an option considering that our neighbours are constantly on the lookout. So, I headed to River, hoping for the best. Curfew was on, so there were only military and medical people on the road. This was reassuring. If a police officer had stopped me to ask what am I carrying, I was going to tell them that I’m a nurse, and it’s for a patient who desperately needs it. I knew as soon as I mention that he lost his leg on the frontline, I wouldn’t be asked any more questions.

There were two people in River, plus Benjamin. I waited outside for those two to leave. It felt like forever. But I knew they’d have to leave at some point. It was almost midnight when they headed from the bar to the door.

As soon as they were around the corner I headed to River. Benjamin was alerted by the squeak of the door.

“Hey you,” he smiled. “What are you doing here? And what is that?”

“It’s your birthday gift. Sorry it’s so late.”

“My what?”

I explained how sorry I was that I missed his birthday, how I’ve been thinking about what to get him, how MediAid came… “Anyway, long story short, I got you this.”

He looked really confused when he took the big, long box. And placed it on the floor and then opened it. For a moment there were no sounds. I that moment I realised what I had done. I was giving him a leg for his 21^st birthday. What the fuck is wrong with me?

However, I misread the silence. He was just really moved. The leg he’s got is bothering him. It’s old, heavy, and doesn’t fit all that well. Which is tolerable for a few hours, but later on, becomes unbearable.

“Come on,” he stood up with considerable effort. “This kind of gift deserves a great treat.”

He locked the door, turned the lights off, and gestured I follow him to the back room. I did. A small corner space, walled off from the world, hiding shelves and cupboards. I sat down on one of the stools. He opened one of the cupboards and took out chocolate, cream, milk! – I haven’t had milk in forever.

It’s sad and pathetic, but the treats were so delicious, I couldn’t think straight. I mean, he had crisps in there, for the love of humanity. Crisps! All I could hear is the crunching between my teeth.

At some point I fell asleep. Too much food. It knocked me right out.

When I woke up, it was still dark in that little room. I was tucked away with blankets under me, and over me, and I felt a little sick, but also really great.

I came out to the bar area, the public zone, to find the box of the new leg empty, and the old leg sloped between the floor and the wall.

Benjamin was preparing to open. It was barely daylight.

“Fits like a glove. Don’t know how to thank you.” He said rubbing a cup dry, and then placing it on the top of the bar.

“I thought it would. What time is it?”

“Quarter to six,” he replied.

“Shit! I have to go. My first day in an ambulance,” I smiled.

I ran home, had a wash, and now I’m waiting for Alan and Djenita to pick me up.

I wonder if anyone noticed a leg missing. I doubt it. The chaos has its virtues.

Should I tell Sid about this? She should know that I have it in me to steal… Oy! I haven’t really thought this through, have I? 

Entry 111

Sid and Omar had a proper date, like they went out. She asked me to meet her in River afterwards so she can have like an anchor or something. I agreed, of course, it’s Sid. Waiting for her in River is the least I can do, even if I don’t understand why.

I read the paper cover-to-cover. Annoyed me to no end. There was one normal article about humanitarian aid being distributed, but that was closely followed by an article about humanitarian aid being prevented from getting to its destination because Serb extremists (call them chetniks – that’s what they are) laid on the street. They placed their bodies to block food. Yet those who die of starvation apparently died of natural causes NOT as a casualty of war. WTF!

Then Leila came, with some friends. Benjamin was not there! She introduced me to Zooch and Mickey. Zooch is the thinnest man I have ever seen. Like skin-and-bone thin. They asked about me, I told them how I’m studying, how I’m at the hospital, how I’m waiting for Sid – that’s it, that was enough. They didn’t ask about my family, my past, or anything. Then again, who would?

Zooch is studying to become a mechanical engineer. I thought about Adam and his skills even as a 14-year-old. Mickey is working on becoming an economist. A number of my family members are economists, but I didn’t say that. Leila is the only one who has a job, and by the sounds of things, she’s working for three people at least.

And then people at a table nearby got loud, singing, and ending their song with a salute to the ceiling calling out the name Zikro. Turns out, Zikro was a brother and a great friend killed on the frontline. At that point, I really just wanted to cry, but I was saved by the bell. Sid called River. She was home.

She was obviously standing by the window waiting for me because she came down the stairs to open the front door to the building. As soon as I was in hearing she started apologising. She was so so so sorry. She can be so silly.

“So, let me get this straight, you stood me up because Omar cancelled his appointment with his commander?” I asked as I sat down. By the time we came to our apartment, she told me how she couldn’t leave, and why, and how she would never ever do that to me…

“I wanted to call River right away, but we didn’t have the number,” she sat next to me.

“You looked for the number?” The image still makes me smile. Imagine being on a first real date with the man you love and you spend it looking for a number of a café so you can call your friend.

“Do you forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive. Next time, don’t look for a number. Enjoy your date.”

“I have just memorised the number for River,” she was serious.

I laughed. “Sweetheart, if you left him to meet me, that would be weird. Now, tell me how did it go?”

Her face literally lit up. I needed that beautiful story of two young people meeting, falling in love, and starting something amazing. Hearing that felt like medicine for my wounded heart.

Entry 110

Sid and Omar are having a private chat. Is it a date? They’re in the living room, I’m pretending to study in the bedroom. I can’t hear anything, but it feels like love.

I got home about seven, and he came about ten minutes later, unlocking our door. I thought it was Sid, so I came to the door. We were both surprised to see one another.

He explained how he came to fix our phone, he got the key from Adam, how he was told I wouldn’t be here. And that’s when I realised that Sid should have been here, on her own. Coincidence? I don’t think so! Adam knew his sister had an early shift today. He knew I went a bit later. What he didn’t know is that Lara came early and asked me to take her morning shift. I agreed and came home, because she took over. I don’t know where Sid was. Didn’t get a chance to ask. Why was she late?

Omar fixed our phone, and Sid was nowhere on the horizon. I checked the window like a million times. I knew I had to keep him here until she comes home. So, we got chatting. I was asking him about the army. I think he knew what I was doing because at first he seemed confused, frowning, replying in really short sentences, and then he agreed to sit down. I made some tea.  And he told me stories from the army. Interesting stuff if I wasn’t preoccupied thinking ‘Sid, where the fuck are you’. Almost two hours later the sweet sound of her key in the lock.

It was time for my exit manoeuvre. I can’t say I was elegant about it. In fact, as I backed away towards the bedroom, a bumped into our coffee table and almost broke my neck. But, it’s all good. I have lots of studying to do… Who the fuck am I kidding, as if wither of those two care how or why I left. I left. They’re alone. That’s all that matters.

I think they’re getting on. Every so often I hear faint laugh from him, and a soft giggle from her. That’s a good sign, right? Yes it is! Oh I’m so happy I had a little part to play in this!!!!

Entry 109

Dr. Obran called me to his office. For a moment I dreaded that I might have messed up on my exams big time. But his opening line was “We need more mobile staff. How would you feel about home visits?”

I swear a little part of me jumped for joy. Riding in an ambulance! Oh, yeah man!

But I kept my cool, forced myself to see that as a very responsible role, and I replied very thoughtfully with “I would be fine with that”.

That was that. He had to go. Told me I’ll be starting Monday, and he was off. Literally left me alone in his office.

I’ve noticed that people are complaining about the weather – low, thick, grey clouds. I love them. The sky feels the way I do. Just the whole idea of a normal life… Benjamin and I might be going out now, getting to know each other on a deep level if it wasn’t for what happened to me. I’m missing out on the love of my life because he’s busy helping me and keeping me safe.

Did I just call Benjamin the love of my life? Yes I did. It’s right there. In writing. Is he the love of my life? What?  

I annoy myself sometimes. WTF was that? The truth?

Oh, this is driving me insane. The pain of missing my whole family isn’t enough. And I do miss them. I miss them all. All the fucking time. I have to miss on the present, maybe even the future. Bring on the thick clouds. What the fuck do I care?

I’ve taken a little break from fanatically reading medical books, and I’m reading some fiction. But I MUST not do this for too long. I promised God that I would be more organised.

I still have no idea what to get Benjamin. But I know I have to make it up to him.  

Entry 108

Sid has been working so hard at the hospital, yet she still found strength to help me during my exam period, which I messed up myself. I know about studying. I shouldn’t have left it for the last minute. But she didn’t mind, she didn’t blame me, she just stood by me. I don’t think even my own sister would have done that. Seriously, I think Ayla would have been like ‘What were you thinking, you’ve got only yourself to blame’. Sid made sure I ate, that I had some rest, that the house was clean, all of it. I was just going from exams to bed, to my desk, to my exams, and the circle went on. I couldn’t have done it without her! So, I thought I’d thank her by cleaning the whole apartment while she was out. I did the lot, including the windows. When she came home, we could just sit and chill.

We started talking about how we’ll live when the war is over. She joked that she might have to bring her mother with us when we go traveling. I don’t mind. Her mum is great. Then she said “And you can bring whoever you want.”

“There is no one to bring,” I replied, just like that, it just came out and felt like a strange relief. “They’ve all been killed.” When I said this, the relief turned into a burning in my whole body. I felt like I was stabbed with a blazing sword. And than I realised that sentence might be a lie. Maybe I lied to Sid, but I think she’d forgive me.

She sat up. “What?” she whispered.

“I have to tell you something, but you have to swear you will never ever tell a living soul.”

“Ooooo-Kay…”

“You know what, never mind. This kind of info could put you in danger, and I’d die if something happened to you.”

“Alma…” she frowned, “you have to tell me.”

She was right. I had to. She had to know. The truth is what builds relationships between people.

I sat up. We were alone in our apartment, but I still felt the need to whisper “I’m a witness.”

“Witness to what?” she whispered back, her eyes focused on mine.

“To what happened…”

Her face went completely red. “What…”

“I was in the basement…”

“No… No, that can’t be. That’s just a vision. You had no…”

“Vision?”

“Yes, you spoke about a basement before, when you first came. Doctor Lily said that your mind created that because you felt guilty for not being with them.”

I shook my head seriously wondering if that could be true. “No, I was there. I was there… I have never been to Zenica in my life. I don’t know anyone here.”

And then I told her everything. I told her how I’m still remembering. How I get flashbacks every day. How I see the boots everywhere I go. How the main boots had a cut, a deliberate cut, like with a knife. And the more I spoke, the more she just listened without any response.

Once I finished, she told me how they thought I run off into the woods, and hid there for about ten days. I did run into the woods, but not to hide. I have no idea how I managed to get here. There is one split second that I remember like a dream. It was a sunny day, I was sitting under a tree, eating wild strawberries, wondering why I’m eating when I want to die. It’s a weird memory, but I’m sure it happened in real life and not in a dream.

“I want to kill them all…” I whispered.

“I know, and I don’t blame you. Can you see their faces?”

My hand squeezed my forehead…

“Here’s the harsh truth…” She took my hand. “If you want them dead, it has to be done during the war. After the war, you go to court.”

Bloody hell, that sentence was like a wakeup call.

“And you can’t do it yourself, especially if you don’t remember their faces,” she said as a matter of fact, completely blunt, without any emotion. “But we know people.”

“No! No we don’t. Don’t you ever tell anyone about this…” I felt my whole body wake up to some kind of defence mode. I had to protect her from me.

“I won’t tell a living soul. But I can introduce you to some people, and you can see if you want their help.”

Then I told her about Benjamin.

“Good start!” She smiled. “I wondered why he’s working at River. That makes sense. He’s keeping his eyes on the situation. If anybody knows, it’s the people who go there.”

The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. Nothing like that even occurred to me.

“Oh my goodness…” she sat up the way she does when she is pleased with the latest idea that popped into her mind. “You know the tarot reading? That’s the death between you preventing your relationship. He can’t even show that you are involved in any way. He’s dealing with the death you faced, and keeping you safe while he gets on with it.”

“Really?” I couldn’t believe how quickly she was putting it all together.

“Is he pretending like you’ve never met?” She nodded like she already knew the answer.

“Yeeessss…” I replied slowly, thinking back to how he was when I first came to River. 

“Just let him get on with it. Follow his lead,” she seemed really pleased.

She had to get back to the hospital early today, and I’ve got a little time, so I’m trying to figure out all that she has helped me see. Benjamin is making enquiries. No one can know that those enquiries are about me. I have to make more of an effort to go to Rive before opening or after closing. I have to get him alone. Maybe then he can tell me what’s going on, if anything…

Entry 107

It’s been wild for two weeks now. One exam after another. And then my 18^th on the day of my final exam. Which was yesterday, I think. Yeah, pretty sure it was yesterday. I don’t know, I’ve hardly slept, I’ve already been to the hospital, Sid and I had lunch and then I had a nap, but I think it’s still daylight of the same day… Oh who cares? 

My 18^th was bitter sweet. I can’t even begin to describe. Sid gave me make up. Her mum handed me a huge box and told me that her husband and sons wanted to get me a gift, but she wouldn’t let them and told them that she’ll just add it to her gift. The box was full of new clothes, just the sort I like. Doctor Lily wrote me the most beautiful card. And Benjamin! He got me an orange. It sounds so ridiculous, but it was the most beautiful gift. I completely forgot I told him how much I miss oranges. He managed to get his hands on one and he gave it to me. I could not have expected the day to go so well. I wasn’t even thinking about it. I was reminding myself that after my exams I have to tell people I’m eighteen.

But I miss Ayla. I don’t want to sound ungrateful, because God knows how much I love Sid and her whole family, how Doctor Lily is so much more then just my therapist, and Benjamin… Oh Ayla, I wish I could tell you about Benjamin.

Mum, dad, grandma, grandpa, I’m an adult now. Are you there? Can you hear me? I hope you can’t. I hope you’re still alive with just your ordinary human ears. Grandpa, I’m learning to wait. I’m learning that waiting is not always the worst option. I hope you’re still proud of me…

Entry 106

I forgot about our day out. I am so ashamed of myself. Sid and I made plans last week, but I was studying all night and then the morning came and I was out of it. Luckily, Sid was getting ready here. She didn’t even suspect that I forgot. Or maybe she did? She asked me if I want to reschedule since I have so much work to do. Maybe I should have said yes, but the shock of it all took me by surprise. I found myself saying “No way dude, I’ve been looking forward to this for days.”

While I am freaking out about not studying, I must say I LOVED our day out. It was sooooo great!

We walked together, chatting. As soon as my exams are over, we are sooooo taking a day off. Just the two gals out on the town. She’s in her final year of high school, so she gets it a little.

She knows my date of birth! Some nurses are smart enough to look at the fucking chart. I have a feeling she’s planning something. I can’t think about that now. And who cares one way or the other. 

Then we went to River. We sat by the window watching the leaves fall. Benjamin had a later shift, and she wanted to wait. I used my ‘revision’ as excuse. We had to leave.

I wish I had the time to describe the day in detail. Just the perfect autumn day with my friend. Maybe I should put a pin in this too, come back to it later…

Entry 105

I’ve spent whole day trying to think of a way to make it up to Benjamin. The time just slipped. I have one week left to my exams, I cannot afford to let a whole day just slip.

I love reading the books, but how much of the text needs to stay in my head. Probably more than I’ve got right now? Oh, it would be so cool if we could bring our books into the exam. I know exactly where every piece of information in located.

I’ve heard about binge revision. Now, I have first-hand experience of it. And I don’t like it one bit. It’s not just about late nights, or long hours, or millions of pieces of papers with all kinds of notes on them. No! That’s not the whole story. It’s the knot in my gut that I will forget, that I’ve crammed too much into too little time. That my head might explode as soon as I close the book.

This shit is terrifying. I don’t know what I know any more. For the first time in my life I have no idea if I’ve done any work at all. I am lost, confused, and really tired.

Oh Ayla, how I miss you. I should have done it the way you’ve always forced me to do it – regularly! Not leave it for the last minute, that was bad.

Oh God, if I pass these exams, I swear I will strive to be more organised and disciplined next year.

Entry 104

I went for a quick coffee to River. I know I can’t get any studying there, so it was going to be just a dash there, and a dash back.

How could I have been so stupid?

Benjamin and this girl Leila were talking about her birthday, which was few weeks ago. Benjamin introduced us. She’s one of those effortless beauties, who doesn’t even know let alone value just how great she looks. She’s nice, though disturbingly honest.

“Look, it’s just the way it is. People we care about care about the day we were born. It’s not nuclear physics, it’s just simple, basic common sense,” she said facing Benjamin. Then she faced me. Am I right?”

I honestly felt like someone kicked in in the chest. I didn’t know Sid’s birthday.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, she turned back to Benjamin and said “I know yours. I could never forget you on sixth of July. You know I came to the hospital that day.”

I had his charts. How the fuck did I not see his date of birth? What the fuck is wrong with me? It was his 21^st as well. He was right there on his 21^st birthday and I didn’t even know. I know I saw him every day that he was there, so I must have seen him on the day as well. Our conversation happened few days later, because it was just before he left the hospital...

“Alma, I just met. So I don’t know her date, but as soon as we become friends, you can be sure I will know her date too.”

I got up. I had to get home. I had to fix this.

Adam was still here, thank God, so I immediately asked for Sid’s date. Fifth of January. A winter child. I should have known. That’s a few months away. I have a bit of time for that.

How will I make it up to Benjamin? I know we’re pretending we didn’t get to know one another when he was at the hospital, but he knows the truth. I could have at least wished him a happy birthday.

Entry 103

Some days I feel so guilty. I know I shouldn’t. It’s not my fault I’m still alive. And what else should I do but live? Yet a dash of joy makes me so angry all I can think about is the revenge that is my duty. Is it my duty? Yes it is… That’s the main reason why I’m alive. But it’s not the only reason. I must keep going. I must see past the flames that took my loved ones. Beyond those in boots who killed more than they can imagine. I must see the dignity of my homeland though it is a victim of savage attack. I must save lives. I must fight for peace. The soul I carry in me wasn’t created the day that I was. It’s been evolving for centuries. One generation after another paid with their deeds for me to have the talents I was born with. It is my turn to sacrifice. To honour my grandfathers, one in particular who had so much faith in me. Maybe he still holds that faith. 

Someday, I know it’ll all work out. But some days that day seems so far away. The life I have now is already hard enough. I must strive to make it easier on myself. Allow myself joy as I allow myself to grieve and hurt. It is all part of living, of being alive. That’s what I am. I am alive.

Entry 102

Sid had a really bad day at the hospital. She came home, barely able to move, her eyes were red, her voice barely a whisper. I couldn’t be the one to talk, even though I wanted to tell her how I was in River and what happened.

She couldn’t talk. Patient confidentiality! So she took a few deep breaths, and flopped on the sofa. I sat next to her, desperate to help, but didn’t know how.

She didn’t want any tea. She didn’t want any music. I suggested a game of cards. She looked up “How about fortune telling? I have my tarots here. We can ask about our love life!”

Of course, I agreed. 

We dimmed the lights. She took out a red cloth a laid it on the floor. I sat on one side of the cloth, and she said on the other.

“We’ll do you first,” she said handing me a deck of cards. “Mix them with your left hand.”

I was clumsy doing it, but apparently that doesn’t matter.

She took the cards back, spread them a into a line, faced down on the red cloth. “Focus on Benjamin and pick three cards.”

I did.

She turned the first card. King of Cups!

Second card, Queen of Cups.

Third card: Lovers!

I couldn’t believe it.

She looked up at me with a smile “Told ya! You two are made for each other. This doesn’t need any explaining. As you can see, perfect match,” she picked up the Queen and the King. Then she tapped on the Lovers card and smiled. “he feels the same. You love him and he loves you.”

She picked up the whole deck and handed it to me again, telling me to mix the cards. The whole process was repeated.

First card: Death! The image alone sent shivers down my spine.

Then she turned the second card. Hermit! That image was much more relaxing.

And the third card was The Hanged Man. Which was weird. The image looked like a military guy exercising.

“Hmm… it’s going to take a while. You both have things to sort out.”

“Death is in the way?” I said. “Didn’t need the cards to tell me that.”

“It’s not just death. Death could be anything. Loss of some sort that you both need to sort out. It’s just that, this should be the future. You two are already facing ‘death-like’ situations. You – obviously. But loss of his leg could be an issue.”

“Loss of his leg might be preventing him from telling me how he feels?”

“Maybe. Maybe in time he’ll realise that that doesn’t matter to you. It doesn’t, does it?”

“Hell no! One leg or two, he’s got a great heart and a beautiful mind. I’m good with that.”

“Maybe if you tell him…”

“I need to make the first move?”

She looked at me “Maybe not. Maybe you should just wait?”

“Do I want to wait?”

“Here, pick one more card.”

I did. Justice!

“Yeah, it’ll all work out. Justice will be served.”

Oh God, I hope so. And I hope it doesn’t take too long.

“Can we ask what will happen if I make the first move?”

She giggled. “Doesn’t work that way. You will do what you will do. The cards know.”

So true. I’m really not going to make the first move. For the first time in my life, I’d rather wait.

And then Sid took the cards and started to shuffle them with her left hand. She repeated the process for herself. It was perfect. I’m not going to share the details, because I don’t want to jinx it. She just needs to indicate in some way how she feels. No time will be wasted. Marriage is in the cards.

I am so happy for her. I hope the cards are right. Her concern was that it’ll all happen so fast. She was like ‘I’m too young’. And I was like “Fuck that! Go with the flow. Look at the cards. You’[‘ll be happy. That’s all that matters.”

We’ve gone over our schedules. Wednesday is good for us both to go to town together for the first time.

Entry 101

Preparing for exams, again! I feel like I’ve just done exams, yet it also feels like a lifetime ago. Those high-school ones were nothing compared to this. I thought a change of scenery and some noises might help. So, I went to River, carried my weight in books and notes.

I love the way that café feels, but am I getting any work done? Benjamin was kind enough to give me a table in a corner, where I can see all, yet I’m also tucked away. But that didn’t help much. If anything, it made it worse. He’s such a sweetheart. He’s so nice. One look at him and all I can think about is what’s going on in my chest, my heart, my brain. I try to think about kidneys, and lungs, and gut, but guess what, every part of my body is ignoring the medical side and it’s focused on my own state. These textbooks don’t tell us how our eyes are connected to our heart, and our heart to our whole body. I’m losing respect for these books. They know the technical side, but that’s only the tip of the iceberg. The truth of our body is so much more complicated.

Then again, thank God we don’t have to learn the whole truth. Keeping it technical is much easier. How thick would these books be if they told the whole truth?

I might have to give up the idea of studying in the café. Need to focus on getting the exams out of the way, and then I can come here and have as much fun as I like. 

I can’t wait to come here with Sid. She said she’s been here once, but that this café is the most popular café among the local ‘easy-going intellectuals’. I love the way she described the regulars.

Benjamin told me I’m welcome to come before and after opening, as if River is always open for me. I will take him up on that. He is the only person I can talk to openly. I still need to have that conversation with Sid. It’s just not a good time right now with all that’s going on at the hospital. 

Entry 100

The hospital was so much fun today. Shoot, should I say that? I mean, from a very selfish, personal perspective. I had a day off yesterday, and I did something. So, I had something to talk about other than patients and medicine. And, even though I didn’t talk to anyone, it was enough to mention it in passing ‘how was your day’, ‘oh, great, just met with friends’ – there is something. I didn’t share any details, there is no time to chat, there was still something. But, most important, it’s the way I felt – a little more rounded. I’m not just a member of staff, I’m a human being.

I’m starting to think that if you want to help others you must take care of yourself first? It sounds a bit paradoxical – be selfish so that you can be selfless. What?! It’s just that… I think my patients benefited from the fact that I am in a really good mood. It felt easier to help them. It makes sense. For the love of God, we’re all just humans. We have our limits. Our desires might push those limits but we don’t break through them.

Dr Lily was really supportive. I’ve never seen her so happy. Which is a miracle, BTW. I mean, she’s the one dealing with the current survivors. Did I mention that she comes to the main hospital for our sessions? She thought it would be a bad idea for me to hear and see the current patients, so she asked for a room in the main building. It works for me.

Even studying has been easier today. I know I’m only in my first year, and I worry about what will I be like in my 5^th year, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Right now, the more I learn the more I realise how little I know, which leads me to I feel like a fake nurse. And yet, I’ve already cut a man. WTF is wrong with me? How could I do that? And do it to Benjamin. Then again, I might have saved his life. Beginners luck – shit! I am no longer a beginner.

Entry 99

Sid came and as soon as I heard the key in the lock I jumped up. I pulled the door open and said “I met Benjamin, we met!” and then I saw her dad right behind her, he was carrying two heavy bags. I opened the door wider to let them both in, Sid was hopping “Tell me everything! How? Where? What happened?”

I apologise to Nusrat, but he just dropped the bags, smiling “I’m not here. I’m just a driver leaving right now.” And he did.

Sid and I sat up all night talking. I told her everything. It’s such a relief. I am so lucky to have her. And as if the emotional support wasn’t enough, Sid’s mum sent us two huge bags of food. I had to fight the tears. While we were unpacking the care package from Lamia, Sid said “She’s making peace with me spending time here,” Sid nodded, “I’ve never really had friends, so…”

“What? What do you mean you’ve never had friends?”

Sid shrugged. “Never had a sleep over or anything like that.”

I’m still trying to understand that. How did she not have friends? She’s the loveliest young woman ever to have lived.

Anyway, I have to get back to the hospital. Is it possible Lamia is fine with Sid spending time here because she’s glad Sid has a friend? She’s no longer alone? Sid was alone???? Oh man! I can’t believe that. She has brothers who care for her. Adam still comes every day to make sure we have electricity. Bless his heart, he comes when we’re out so he doesn’t disturb us, and he pedals that bike for hours at a time. 

Entry 98

When is Sid coming back?!?! I will burst if I don’t tell someone about today. My hand is shaking. I can’t write about this. I need to say it.

Okay, okay, I’m calming down… That’s a lie and I’ve done a fair bit for that today, so I probably shouldn’t do it now.

Alright… One step at a time. So, I got ready to go out. Listening to music, dancing…

I spoke to Benjamin!!! 

Fuck it, I can’t do slow and steady in this case. BENJAMIN!!!! He works as a barman in café River. He was just starting his shift when I sat down to have a coffee. And he called me over to sit at the bar. Or at least I think he did. I don’t think any tables are reserved in that place.

So, I did a lot of walking. Once I crossed the bridge, the streets felt so normal. They were calling me to just walk. I spotted café River yesterday, or at least the outdoor terrace that goes over the river. And I thought how I have to go there. Today, I was pretending that that’s where I was going. Having a destination kind of helped. But I walked past the café, and just wandered about.

Zenica had a lot of shops. They’re all closed now. It’s a bit sad. The main street is closed to traffic, though there are very few cars on the road. Still, any cars still functional is a good sign.

There’s a market where local farmers sell foods. Stupendously expensive. The money I get in a month could only buy me a few eggs and some flour. It’s crazy. I felt a bit sick to see our famers taking such advantage of the situation.

After the market, I felt I had enough of walking, so I headed to the boulevard – the road that goes along River Bosna; really pretty with trees lined neatly, a grassy patch close to the river, and benches every few meters. The café is visible from a distance. I was going to sit on the terrace but it was full, so I went inside, sat down at a table in a corner, between the bar and a window, and I just observed the others there – mostly men and women in uniform. It looked like a café they favoured. The waiter came and I made a stupid mistake of ordering two coffees – force of habit, I have never ever ordered one. The next thing I know I feel someone looking at me from the bar. It was Benjamin. I swear it took me breath away. Just seeing him caused some kind of shift in me and everything around me. Sid is going to flip when I tell her.

The waiter comes over with my drinks. I’m wondering if I should drink both or pretend like someone stood me up, but before he puts the coffees on my table he tells me my table is reserved, and if I wouldn’t mind sitting at the bar. I did NOT mind. I wanted to sit at the bar very very much. Plus, because they inconvenienced me so much, they gave me free drinks. I was already taking a seat at the bar when the waiter said “Are you expecting someone?”

“Yes,” came out of my mouth before I had a chance to think about it. It was so stupid, but I had to lie. And then lie again later on when I pretended I was stood up.

Benjamin ‘recognised me’ from the hospital, that’s what he said to the waiter. He made it sound like we just met in passing. I went along, while my heart pounded at the memory of us sitting in that quiet room talking about who I am. I kept hearing ‘you’re not just a survivor, you’re a witness’.

Although he said it to the waiter, I could feel few more eyes on me. One guy in particular. Higher ranking military dude, considering the little badges on his uniform. Brown hair. Good looking. He was with a group at a table near the bar, but he was facing Benjamin and me. The way he looked at me, it took all I had not to ask who he was.

It also helped when Benjamin said “Is it your first time here?”

That sentence took me away from the mysterious army-man and back to the moment. It was Benjamin! The sweetest surprise life could have thrown at me. 

We were just chatting while he worked. It took me a while to realise that he was helping me develop my story for the public – who am I when I can’t be me. And I can’t be me. People cannot know the truth. It is sad, but

Entry 97

I decided I’d get ready – Sid has makeup, and tweezers. My eyebrows were a mess. Serious mess. Enough to make me worry about the kind of woman I have become. I mean, when eyebrows look like misguided moustache you must worry. I don’t think I’ve ever had a unibrow, and I don’t have one now, but it is getting close. Anyway – I’ll need to write about that some other time. Huge thing happened.

So, I got ready to think about leaving, i.e. in case I gather enough courage to step down the road I wanted to look half decent. I was looking in the mirror, calming myself, when I heard Ayla. Ayla was in the mirror. I am NOT confused. We’ve always looked identical, but I’ve never confused myself with her. It was her. She was in the mirror.

She pulled her top front teeth over her lower lip and then smiled. Squirrel! She was pretending to be a squirrel. She was trying to tell me to have faith.

I didn’t hear her, but I swear she told me I’d be alright. It was like a telepathic message. It felt like love. It transcended… if I can hear her like that, maybe she can hear me too. I want to tell her that she too will be alright, that I love her and miss her, and that I will always have courage. For her!

So I had to go. I had to get out there and then. I went all the way to the bridge. I even crossed the bridge and sat by the river. Just sat. I did it. Now I want to go out again. Now I feel okay at the idea of going out. It’s like Grandma used to say: You view the world through a window, you see it through a door. And I need to see more of it, much more of it. I will use the door more, much more. I have a day off tomorrow. That’ll be my chance.

Thank you, Ayla! And I must thank Sid as well. Her love for water helped me to just enjoy the view.

Entry 96

I have never studied like this. Having music is great. But I have about 3 weeks to my exams, first year of uni, shit! I need… I need… I need to get out! I don’t know where or how, I just have this pull in me to get out. To go. See the town or something, I just have to get out. I feel caged. Which is fucking stupid, I barely left hospital grounds, now that I’m out I feel caged. Talk about delayed reaction for fuck sake.

I have to get out!

How? Where?

Sid had to go home for the weekend, her mum is refusing to even entertain the idea that Sid might have moved out. Apparently, even when she gets married, her husband will have to come and live with them.

She asked me if I wanted to go with her, and I shook my head so violently, she smiled, rubbed my arm and said “It’s okay, take your time…”

Take my time? I don’t take time. I complain that things are taking too much time. I have to get out. Oh God, help me please!

Entry 95

I have to write down the highlights of my conversation with Sid about our neighbours. It was the best conversation we’ve had since the liberation of the concentration camp.

I told her how I heard a noise and how I knocked. That’s it, that’s all I said. She looked up with a surge of energy I’ve never seen in her, not even before the shit show at the hospital “What did you do? Tell me you did NOT go in.”

All I could do in cringe.

“Oh no!” She shook her head. “Why? Why would you do that?”

Turns out, the younger guy, Dino, is pretending to be disabled to avoid the military service. The older guy, his father, Al, served in second world war and is very proud of that, so he’s now ashamed of his son. The old woman, the mother and wife, Dika, is proud of her son for being smart enough to let others die. She’d rather live without water than risk her son. And we should now expect Dino and Dika to come up all the time to ask us for help.

We’ll have to avoid them. And then Sid sat up like she used to do whenever she had a great idea “No, wait! I’ll tell my mother to handle them. I am a genius. This solves two problems – the neighbours will be off our backs, and the mother will feel useful and necessary.”

Sid and I spoke until we both fell asleep on the sofa. Her younger brother Adam woke us up this morning. He’s only 14 yet really good at turning an old bike into a generator. Sid mentioned something before, something about how we need music, but I was rushing out and I just said how I’m not good at playing any instruments, but she’s welcome to bring in a band if she wants to. She frowned and said something about Adam and a generator, I said something like ‘cool’, and that was that. The kid is here now, installing it. We’ve agreed to give him a key so he can come every day to pedal the bike so we can have music and a cooker.

“And, if you are really nice, I might even power up your TV,” he smiled.

It’s very cool!

Entry 94

Living in a flat really means that you share a building with people you don’t even know. That’s so weird. I’ve always lived in a house. All members my family live in houses, with gardens and space between other people we don’t know. I’ve never shared a ‘building’ with anyone but my own relatives. I’ve been to blocks of flats, but I’ve never spent any significant time in them. I’ve never really thought about it.

I was on my way home from the hospital. I walked into the building and heard loud banging in the apartment below ours. I had no idea who lived there, but the noise was a bit alarming, so I thought I’d knock and check if everyone was alright.

“Come in!” A voice said from the inside.

For a moment I wondered if I should open this door that I walk past few times a day. It just felt like someone else’s property. And yet, it is right there, in the building where I live now. I opened the door slowly and was taken back by the décor.  The place is stuck in the 70s. Lava lamps and flowery patterns all over.

And then the loud banging – tr-tr-tr-tr… it seemed to be coming from the room on the left, definitely mechanical.

“Who is it?” a voice from that room shocks the bee-jeez out of me. “Come in!”

I walk into the apartment, and look through the glass on the door of the ‘machine-room’. An old woman is sitting there, I can’t make out the details.

“Open the door darling,” she said.

I open yet another door, really wishing I wasn’t so concerned about others. An old woman, wearing the biggest hat of feathers sat at a sewing machine, one of those pre-electricity devices that had a large foot pedal to move the needle. With the mystery of the loud noise solved, I wanted to leave. 

“Are you the girl from upstairs?” her wrinkly face glowed within the frame of bright-colour fake feathers that waved about. 

I nodded, glancing at her work in progress – little squared of all kinds of materials, and all sorts of patterns being sewn together, but not into a blanket, unless it had a sleeve. It was weird.

She got up and in one split moment ushered me into the living room where an old guy sat on the floor, and a younger guy sat in the chair, both just staring into space.

It took them a moment to realise I was there. Once they did, it was talk-talk-talk none stop.

At first, the young guy was convincing me that he was disabled. I have no idea why.

The old guy kept looking at the woman, the moment she wasn’t looking at him, he’d look at me and wink. And then he would say something like “I fought in the big war”, she’d tell him to be quiet. Then he’d say “I was wounded” and she’d interrupt with “has the humanitarian aid been, we are still waiting for a call”. The old guy would be like “The phone is not working, back then we didn’t”. and the woman would say “I want to make some cookies. All the while the younger guy was talking about how his back is something which doctors haven’t figured out, but he has pains and his leg, do I want to see his leg, better not…

They spoke over each other. They said a lot, yet I didn’t get a thing about them.

And then the questions came. They asked about everything. I lied more than ever in my life. May God forgive me. I had to. The only thing they really know is that my name is Alma, and that I’m studying medicine. They think I’m nineteen, which made me realise that my eighteenth birthday is soon. Never mind. They asked questions without waiting for an answer, or answering the questions they asked me. I managed to escape after over an hour and a half, and I don’t even know their names. I’ve seen all their photos, I had to, yet still don’t know their names. They didn’t call one another even once. But they gave me some peppermint to make tea at home, they don’t have any water.

I tried to refuse, but they kept pushing the little bag of dried leaves. It smells lovely. Sid’s dad brought us enough water for a week, but since we’re not here so much, we have got some spear. But then, is it mine to give away? I can’t give away Sid’s stuff. I’m grateful she’s sharing so much with me. I’ll ask her when she comes home.

Entry 93

Life between destiny and fate – fate? I was destined to become a doctor. It’s my life’s calling. It’s always been there even when I couldn’t hear the call. But fate? That one is a bitch. The consequences of other people’s actions. We call it fate because we don’t always know what others are doing that could change our lives forever. But it isn’t so mysterious. It would be so nice if we lived in a world where we don’t have any connection to others. They make their decisions and face the consequences of their actions. And we face only the consequences of our actions. Or maybe that would be horrible? How would we live if we couldn’t experience the good deeds of others? A world where we experience the good deeds of others but not their bad deeds? Alma, sweetheart, you are being ridiculous.

It’s just that… Sometimes it breaks my heart to be living. Just being alive hurts. It singles me out of my home, my place in the world, my community, my family, all I’ve ever known. I can’t feel my own experiences unless I share them with Ayla. Now, that she’s not here, I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel.

However, there are times when it’s like I forget that she’s not here. I’m just living in the moment, doing what I was born to do. Like my life’s calling is so loud, nothing else can be heard. When you find your life’s call there is no ignoring it. Your heart leaps to it. You must follow. Nothing can stand in the way, no matter what other people do. 

People say fate has plans for us. Fate is just a complex web of paths you can find yourself on because of decisions other people made. Destiny is the divine within us that our Creator placed. Words cannot describe the greatness of that.

I’m living a life between destiny, the Divine, and fate, the human. I’ve chosen or had a say in neither. We think we have a choice, but it’s all so wrong. Our choices are so limited. And considering how bad we are at making them, that’s probably for the best. Even the small decisions we can make, we get them wrong. We are just a feather in the machine called time. And we’re all just here to do our best. 

Entry 92

Life has become one big shit-show. If it wasn’t for my studies I think I’d flip – that’s how bad it is, I’d choose slaving over some text written by a person who had trouble expressing their thoughts, to anything else. There’s so little to be positive about. In fact, it’s impossible to be positive. Not that I’m trying… What was I going to say?

Being positive can only go so far. You can be optimistic, but positive is stupid. Reality comes back out of revenge if you ignore it. Not that I tried to ignore it, I was just…

Sid has matured in the last week. Two women took their own lives. The look in her beautiful eyes is deep. There’s a shadow of sorrow over them even when she smiles. She’s at the hospital even more than when she took care of me. It’s shocking how many people refuse psychiatric help. It takes patience to get that kind of help. I was lucky. My mind blocked out so much, I lost the idea of time. In my world, there was no such thing as waiting.

Sid practically lives here, which means her family stop by as well. They still refuse to come in if she’s not in, though I really don’t mind. We have no food, so that makes it very weird – someone comes and you’ve got water to offer them. The only stuff that is here is what Sid brought. I have almost nothing of my own. I have thought about asking where’s my stuff, I must have had something on me, surely I didn’t come to the hospital naked, but I just… I’m worried what I might figure out from that. Anyway, I have all I need, and I should focus on that. Someday, I’ll bring myself to write about being on the recipient end of charity. I’ve never thought about it, but I think a lot about it now… It’s too complicated.

Sid and I have different schedules this week, so we don’t spend much time together. But we leave notes for each other on the fridge and the coffee table.

I’m good at drawing. I forgot that. It just popped up when I was leaving her a note one day and I drew a nut.

The nut made her laugh. That day, just as I got home and she was about to start getting ready to leave, I have no idea what time it was, but it was dark. Which might not mean it was late, the day has become considerably shorter… Anyway, that day she asked me what is her spirit animal; if I’m a squirrel, what is she? I looked at her and said ‘deer’.

She frowned “Oh come on. I’m more like a cat.”

“A cat? A lioness, maybe, a cat?! No way.”

“Okay, I’ll be a deer, but only if I can have horns, like a male deer.”

“You will be a female deer, with horns that pop up when you want them.”

She smiled, and then her head dropped, like she was too tired of holding it up.

“One day,” I said, “this’ll all be over. You and I are going on a holiday. We are just…”

“Oh please,” she lifted her head and looked at me with eyes only half open, “your sister will show up and you’ll forget all about me.”

“Forget you?!” I sat up. “You can be so stupid. I could suffer another amnesia, I could forget many things, I could never forget you. You are in my heart. And, my sister and I look the same, we also feel the same. Our minds are the only thing that’s different. She has never ever ever forgotten anything.” I wanted to add ‘when she comes back, she’ll love you even more than I love you’ but I couldn’t bring myself to say it. The word ‘when’ chocked me. What if she’s not coming back? I’ve seen what people can survive. I have some idea of what I have survived. Crazy survival is possible, I just… I don’t know.

But it seemed to have worked anyway. She smiled, her eyes wide open. For once, I think I helped her.

Sid is more than a friend. She’s my miracle. My fairy. It troubles me that she doesn’t know how much she means to me. Even more, it troubles me that I would have missed her if we met under different circumstances. I already had a friend, I had a sister. But that’s so different. That’s flesh and blood.

What is it they say: blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. I’m starting to get it. It’s the choice. I had no choice but to love Ayla. My love for Sid is a choice. It is a reflection of me on some great level.

One day, the shit-show will be over. One day we will have a normal life. One day, my friend and I will dance and joke and chat without our hearts breaking, without protecting each other from the pain of everything.  

Entry 91

It’s so cool to hear Sid unlock the door. She came last night at two in the morning, I was still studying. Bless her heart, she was shuttered. I would have made her some hot chocolate, but we have no milk or chocolate, so I made her some tea.

We sat for the rest of the night chatting. Sid’s mum is not okay with her moving out. Not that she is, though I get the feeling that she would like to.

“I was going to go to university, anyway,” she said, her eyes barely open, yet she refused to go to sleep.

“Many parents don’t think of that as moving away, just a little trip for the benefit of your knowledge,” I smiled though my gut clenched. What about my parents? Where are they? Are they worried about me?

Sid’s mum was taking note of all the things Sid has moved here. I hadn’t even noticed. But the woman is right. Sid might have moved. I love that, but I also understand how Sid’s mum wouldn’t.

We mentioned the hospital in passing. Sid isn’t ready to talk about it. I can tell it’s really hard for her. She’s coping with a lot at the moment.

So many sorrows under one roof – that’s our hospital right now.

Oh well, as they say: Life is tough, but remember, so are you! I guess we have to fight back until life becomes what we want it to be. Or as close as we can get to what we want. Let’s face it, life is one tough opponent.

Sid had gone to bed now, I have no time. I have to be at the hospital in an hour. I’ve left a bottle of water for a ‘shower’ – or whatever the fuck that is when you wash your whole body with like 5l of water.

After a cooler spell, we’re having a hot wave. I’m trying not to think about how I would be making jam in another life. This time, every year, we’d prepare the ‘winter stock’. Huge pots would come out, the harvest would be gathered, and there’d be days and days of slaving by the stove so we have fresh foods for the winter. I can almost smell the sweet aromas…

Oh stop it you stupid idiot! Get ready and get back to work! Someday, someday you might have that life again. But, right now, it’s fine. You’re fine.  

Entry 90

The sentence that got me out of any chore my whole life has no meaning anymore. How? “I have to study” has been like magic for as long as I can remember. I say that and I’m off the hook. Except not with my elderly neighbours across the hall.

I was coming back to the apartment with about 20 kilos worth of books in my hands, and the neighbour opened their door. We exchanged a few pleasantries, next thing I know they’re inviting me in to help them with a broken tap. I tried to explain that I don’t know anything about that. And they went on pulling my arm explaining how it just needs a new gasket, and they have spear, I just need to help them unscrew something, and replace gasket – BTW, I had no idea what a gasket is until they showed me a small plastic ring. Long story short, I helped them replace the thing. At one point the old woman, Olga, giggled and said “No need to check if the main water valve is closed, we have no water.” And I was thinking ‘so why the fuck are you replacing this’. Like she could hear my mind she said “When it comes back on, I don’t want it dripping and keeping me up all night”. Then she spoke for fifteen minutes about how unfair it is that we have no water, except a few hours a day, not day but night, why night, what are they trying to do to us, they are trying to make us go insane, the whole world… I was hoping for a switch off button, but no. Nothing. She went on and on and on.

After I fixed that, she insisted I stay for a chat. I said I have to study, she told me where to sit and that she’ll get some drinks. I was shocked. I really have to study. It’s only four weeks to my exams and I’m reading my candlelight.

The whole time I was there I was thinking about how best to organise my revision. How did Ayla do it? She always made these plans, my job was to stick to them.

I’m trying to study now, but the thought of Olga and her ‘Bob’ – I don’t know if that’s his real name, but I saw an old guy, who could be her husband, sitting on the floor in the living room, looking angry. She was cheerful whenever she mentioned him. I have no idea what’s going on there, but I know I have no brain space or time to think about them. I have to focus on my revision!

Entry 89

Red Cross brought in the victims three days ago. Since then we’ve all been at the hospital nonstop. Sid was very grateful I offered her this apartment to use as she likes. The moment her dad made her a key, I felt relief. Someone other than me can use this door any time they like.

I am at the apartment now. After three days of not sleeping, even resting, I thought I’d barley make it to the sofa. But the moment I put my head on the pillow and closed my eyes, a million thoughts came. I’m so awake now, I can’t close my eyes even if I wanted to.

They’re mostly women. All raped multiple times. Some are currently pregnant, some have already had a child and the child either died or was taken away.

Trauma is through the roof. For the first time ever Sid has more work than me. She’s struggling with it. The bright look in her blue eyes has dimmed. She’s speaking quietly, slowly, taking deep breaths after every sentence as if it hurts to talk.

Men were less likely to survive the camp, by the stories of those who did survive. Apparently it was common for a bunch of men to be taken to a large hall, forced to stand by the walls, while the ‘guards’ shot at them. Sometimes aiming, sometimes just shooting all around.

I examined a number of those women and men. Physical injuries speak for themselves. Broken bones that haven’t healed properly. Missing parts: fingers, ears, toes, even eyes, not to mention hair, nails, and teeth. Bruises at different stages of the healing process.

Sid and I spoke a bit about that on our very short breaks, but we mostly sat in silence. Everyone needs a friend who is so close they make silences feel like healing.

I’m so glad I left the hospital. I might be struggling to get used to living on my own, but my alternative, i.e. to live with those victims, I’m ashamed to admit, I don’t think I could handle it. I am here to help in any way I can, but I can’t live with them.

And yet… Is it horrific of me to think I might have comrades among them when they work themselves out? For a moment, and I swear it was a just a moment, I looked at them, and some have that fighter’s spirit. They’re broken now, but they won’t be broken forever. I might have a friend among them.

I’ve told doctor Lily that I can suspend my appointments with her for now. She didn’t want to hear it. She said I motivate her… How does she do it?

Entry 88

It’s the middle of the night. The gunfire is louder here, but it’s still far away. Bombs are silent tonight, so that’s nice.

I’ve looked into every drawer and cupboard in this place. Someone has removed everything that is personal to the man who lives here. They’ve left the kitchen almost intact, and there’s soap and shampoo in the bathroom, brand new, so my guess is they took out his stuff and brought stuff I will need.

I keep looking at the door hoping I’ll hear a key being pushed into the keyhole. I know no one will, yet I still hope. I need to change that. Either stop hoping or get a roommate or something.

It’s just my first night here. I’m sure it’ll get easier. I’ll add some plants. Or get a pet. Oh Shit! I should have asked Sid to stay the night. How many times did she tell me that the commute to the hospital is a bit of a bitch! She should just stay here, with me. It’ll solve her problem, and mine. I will offer her to live with me! Is that crazy? No! I mean, she needs to be close to the hospital and I need people. Maybe her friends and family will come as well????

Okay, calm the fuck down.

I wish I was a ghost. This would make a lot more sense if I was.  

Entry 87

I feel like a ghost, which would be fine is I was one. But being flesh and blood, yet feeling like a ghost is just creepy. If I was a ghost Ayla and I would be… Is she a ghost? No! If she was she would have haunted me by now. That’s how I know she’s still alive. She must be.

Anyway, I’m in my own place... Can I call it that?

Leaving the hospital was hard, but I prepared myself for it. However… How the fuck did it escape my mind to think about the fact that I’ll be on my own for the first time ever. That’s what I should have been worried about. I’m alone. I can’t even understand the sentence. It feels horrible.

The apartment is fine. Typical bachelor pad. Neat guy. Didn’t like too many things. On second thought, I think this place has been cleaned recently. The guy left at the beginning of the war. Even if no one stepped into this apartment, there should be dust and what-not. Oooh, they cleaned it for me.

They’ve also brought my desk and shelf here, so it does have a little bit of me in it already. It’s just that… I feel so out of place. Like an intruder. I have the key. I have the permission to be here. I just… I wish someone else had a key to this place. I’m behind some door that no one else will come through. That’s what freaks me out. I want someone else to use this door on regular basis. No door should be used by just one person. That’s insane.  

Entry 86

Sid has made the idea of moving out of the hospital sound great.

“You will have freedom!” She joyfully exclaimed. “You can come to my house.” She said as if that’s the best thing ever. “We can have secret meetings…”

“Secret?” I frowned. “Can you even keep a secret?” I remembered my cousin Amina and how Sid is just like her, and how Amina couldn’t keep a secret to save her life.

“I’m the best secret keeper ever,” Sid nodded. “Seriously, I am.”

I wondered if I should tell her about me, about being a witness? It bugs me that she doesn’t know. Or maybe she does know? I don’t think she does. She’s smart. If she knew I was a witness, she’d be freaked out much more. But then, does she need to know or do I want to tell her for me? I want to keep her safe from it. I don’t want her to be burdened by it, or in danger because of it, or anything like that. I also don’t want her to think I don’t trust her. I do. I trust her completely.

Decisions, decisions! Maybe I should wait until I move out.

Entry 85

It’s time for me to lift my anchor and sail out of the hospital grounds. I feel so stupid for being nervous about this. What was I thinking, that I’d stay here forever? Of course I have to move. Doctor Lily has so much patience. She walked with me, took the time, showed so much understanding. And yet there I was like a freaked out child.

Doctor Lily has found me a studio apartment just across the road from the gate to the hospital grounds. She said her friend owns it, but he left and she has the keys. The guy is somewhere in America, apparently. It would be odd to live in someone’s house. Though not as odd as living away from the hospital. Then again, how far will I be? She showed me the house. I walked with her down the Hospital road to the main gate. It looked frightening, but she was close so I managed it. The apartment is across the road from the main gate. Doctor Lily showed me the windows. For crying out loud, I should be able to handle that.

You know what, yes I can handle that. If I can handle cutting people and stitching them up, even children, I think I can walk through those gates no matter how scary they look. In fact, I need to handle it before the concentration camp is freed. Many of those victims are coming to this hospital.

Entry 84

Leaving the hospital is no longer an option. Red Cross has liberated the concentration camp. The survivors should be here by the end of the week. Apparently it’s been in the news for weeks. I only heard people chatting about it while they waited to be seen. It didn’t sound real.

Politicians were debating whether to allow the Red Cross to do that. What the fuck were they debating? It’s a concentration camp. You’d think every human in the world would want to liberate those trapped there. It had to be debated? I tried to imagine the debate: let those people be tortured and murdered, no I think we should stop that – is that what it was like?

What the fuck is wrong with the world? ‘Should we liberate a concentration camp’ needs to be fucking debated?

I’m trying to keep my cool, but… Thank God for Sid and her crazy imagination. I wish I could repeat the way she presents her stories. She has a gift to make the images in her head come to life.

Entry 83

She’s going back. Samira has grieved for a week, and now she’s going back to the trenches. I am amazed. I am in awe. I don’t even know what to say.

I was there when Dr Dukat was asking her if she’s sure. She replied “My country needs me. I survived to carry on. I’m not one to sit at home and count the number of bombs that went off somewhere nearby.”

Her words went through me like an electric shock. Though we barely met, I gave her a hug, one of those I wish I could give my loved ones.

She was about to say something, but a soldier, obviously her lift to the frontline came, came in. The way he smiled at her, and the way she smiled at him, it was like the whole room was filled with some special, glorious light, and air, and angels. He winked at me and said “This is a kind-a girl worth dying for.”

She shook her head and rolled her eyes “Hence I do my best to save such idiots.”

She picked up a small bag off the floor and he snatch it right out of her hand. They went cheerfully down the hall shoulder to shoulder.

What the hell am I doing? Scared to move out of the hospital, yet I want revenge… what the fuck is wrong with me?

Entry 82

I’ve heard rumours about liberation of a concentration camp. I thought it was fake. But now, Doctor Lily has been gently suggesting that it might be time for me to leave the hospital, as in not live here anymore. I don’t know why the idea frightens me. When I pause to think, I like it. I like the idea of re-joining the normal world though I’m not normal. But I’ll never be normal again. I have to find a way to function as me in this crazy world I’ve never known before. Then again, crazy world, crazy me, it should be a perfect match. Unless we’re two different types of crazy. That could be dangerous. My kind of crazy could clash with the kind of crazy the world is, and that could result in a horrible bang. Let’s just put a pin in that and hope for the best.

Sid also thinks I should think about leaving. She’s been really positive about it: ‘I could come for a visit in my normal clothes’, ‘we could do each other’s hair’, ‘you could be running late to the hospital’ – she laughed at the last one. I’m worried I’ll ask for even more work so that I can just stay at the hospital.

I know even if I don’t live here they will both be in my life. That’s good enough, right? Of course it is. It’s time for the next step. Let’s have courage to make it.

Entry 81

If someone told me that the whole hospital could stop for ten minutes I would have told them that they’re crazy. We can barely find time to go to the loo. But, today, the whole hospital attended the memorial for the nurses.

Sofia was the youngest of the four nurses, just turned 19. Described as a girl with a heart as big as the universe, generous to a fault.

Zara was 21, she wanted to be a vet. She was shy and quite, but brilliant.

Dana and Noor were both 22. Dana was the only child. Her mother begged her to stay at the hospital, but she couldn’t. She had to go where she was needed the most. Noor was the best student. With four older brothers watching over her like a hawk her parents believe she’d be safe no matter what.

Samira was the only one who survived. She was in the trenches when the bomb hit. Ironic. She was in most danger, yet she’s the only one still alive. She sat in the front row, her chin up, she didn’t shed even one tear. Even I cried, and I didn’t even know them. When she got up to say a few words, she stayed in the same place, just faced us all.

“They were my sisters, maybe even closer than that. We’ve shared more than girls our age should. But if they’ve left anything of themselves behind, it’s courage. God knows they had that spear. In the brutality of this war, take the courage they’ve left behind. We must fight on.”

Samira sat back down, and we all stood frozen. For a few moments, there was nothing but silence. Impossible to imagine considering where we were. And I could just feel my heart bursting inside my ribcage. Yet I felt no pain. For the first time, I felt only power.

It’ll be alright. I just know it.

After the memorial, Doctor Lily told me to come and see her as often as I like and any time. So I did. I followed her back to her office where we’ve spoken hundreds of times by now. To be honest, I think she needed it too. Not that she said anything, she never does, but I think listening is her way of helping. And she’s not wrong.

I told her about Sid, and how her imagination takes me away better than any book or movie. It’s like a door to a world that relaxes and replenishes the heart. I’ve realised that I’ve stopped reading fiction. I read medical books now, I write about my family, and then there is this diary, which I’m taking a lot more seriously than I ever thought I would. I don’t write every day, but sometimes I write more than one entry in a day, so… I think that’s the best way to do it. Go with the flow. Then again, I should write every day.

Anyway, all these things combined are keeping me balanced. And, life is all about finding the point of balance. The whole universe is just about keeping the balance.

Though, to be honest, my work at the hospital empowers me. Sure, I get tired, and sad, but those are normal. They feel okay. They don’t tear out my soul. They’re like night sky; dark and beautiful.

The weather is getting cooler. Feels like beginning of a school year, except I’m already neck deep in books and assignments. My exams are in about seven weeks.

Still no word from Benjamin. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’m worried. I hope he’s alright, not just for my sake, but for his too.

Entry 80

Loss of life couldn’t be ignored at the hospital today. But it wasn’t just grief. Though there was a lot of it, even Dr Obran bowed his head and closed his eyes tight when he heard the news. Many tears were spilled, though there was no weeping. No one made a sound except to pray and speak about courage, honour and dignity.

Four out of five frontline nurses were killed when a bomb hit their tent. I didn’t know them. I think I saw two of them in passing once when they came to collect supplies. Four soldiers, young men barely a few years older than me, were with them. They were messing about, joking. One of the nurses said “I can carry that,” she pointed at a small bag in a pile of bags.

One of the young men put his arm around her shoulders and said “Let it go, or I will carry you as well.”

I remember feeling pride. Not sure why. I guess it’s the whole saving lives when someone wants to take them. I didn’t know who they were, I didn’t ask. I had to get on with my work.

I wish I knew them, but I couldn’t stop. We don’t have time to make friends.

I took a moment behind the hospital where no one goes to think about those left behind. They didn’t come to the hospital, but I can imagine their pain.

Entry 79

“You are not fit for paediatrics, I will not allow you to go into that field!” Dr Obran said in anger after I spent three times as long stitching a child than I do an adult.

I didn’t care much. Before I can do my exams I had to shadow a paediatrician. Working with kids is a whole new world, or at least it was for me. In the main hospital, we don’t get many sick people, just wounded. Children’s ward is different. We have sick and wounded. I had a three-year old girl shot in the head by a ‘naught man who hit her with a butlet’ – she couldn’t pronounce bullet, it sounded more like bottle with a u instead of an o, and a t added at the end.

Her father carried her to the hospital in his arms. He looked even more terrified than the girl.

My arm turned into a robotic thing, steady as a rock, just really slow. I was talking to the kid the whole time; about her toys, her grandma, her aunt who lives with them and tells daddy off because she’s his older sister and she has the right – kids will say whatever pops into their little heads. There are no secrets.

Older kids are a little less chatty, probably because they are more aware of what’s going on even if they don’t get it. But there are more things I can ask like about their friends, schools, teachers… BTW, kids are now going to schools in the basements – Shit! Makes sense, I guess. We’re luck here at the hospital. The geographical position and the hills around act as a shield.

Anyway, one day at the kid-ward and I was sweating ice cubes. But I managed to tune out the whole world and just focus on my patient one at a time. Apparently, that was my mistake. I don’t understand why. An adult arm has substance. When I lift it up, I can feel weight. Kid’s arms… Oh blooming heck, it’s like holding a feather. Something that soft and gentle should not be stitched. In fact, it should not be bleeding. But, like Sid said, our blood belongs inside our skin. As a ‘future doctor’ it is my job to make sure their skin does not let their blood out. And I want to do that as gently as I possibly can.

“I am not going to traumatise a wounded child!” I shouted back at Dr Obran.

“We have to do our best for all our patients,” he snapped back.

“She was one of my…”

“If you carry on like this, I will fail you!” Dr Obran interrupted.

“If you fail me, I will leave!” I threatened back. I know how desperate he is, but as soon as I said it I knew it was a lie. Where would I go?

It was like we both realised we crossed a line. We both made claims we can’t honour. He can’t fail me, and I can’t leave.

I love helping kids. But I fear Dr Obran might be right…

Entry 78

I miss Benjamin. I can’t help it, the thought of him just springs up.

Even more, I miss talking to Ayla about him. I think she’d really like him. Every time I mention him to Sid she smiles.

“I’m telling you, one day you two will be making me dinner at your house,” she said giggling. “You’ll have amazing kids…”

“Shut up!” I couldn’t remove the smile off my face. The thought had crossed my mind. I could see us in some small apartment, just chilling.

It amazes me how these normal thoughts have made their way into my mind, my mind that is so messed up right now. Is it stupid to long for just a normal life? I just want to sit with him. Well, I do want to talk to him as well. Oh…

The only thing I really get right now is the human body. Everything else is so fucking confusing. Why can’t our heart be just an organ that pumps blood? Why does our heart have to be this complicated thing that makes life so confusing? Then again, if I was to have those dreams about Benjamin come true, I would be so happy. I couldn’t be that happy if our heart was just a pump.

Oh! Life is taught.

Entry 77

I get these days of calm. Somewhere deep down I am confident and in control. I don’t know if it’s the sound of the past, and security I once had. Or a voice of the future telling me it’ll all work out, even though I don’t know how. As long as I can ignore the present moment, I can stay in the comfort of that feeling. But when reality kicks in, the real stuff covers all the beauty that once was or will be. It is so easy to have courage when you are secure, when you have reason to feel safe. Now I must find courage somewhere beyond the world I once knew. My purpose is clear – justice, humanity, Bosnia. This chaos will need sorting out.

I was going round in circles, wanting things right now, things that must take time. After a tough conversation with myself, telling myself off very harshly, I made a list.

1. Keep my family alive in my journals.
2. Remember all I can – as a witness, I will need to remember every detail.
3. Become a doctor – not only will I help people, but that should earn me a good reputation. As a witness, this characterisation matters.
4. Learn as much as I can about the history of Bosnia – during Yugoslavia we were not taught much, and what we were taught was crap. It seems Serbia has been spreading lies about us all over the world for decades. But then, even I don’t know the truth. So I have to fix that about me.
5. Gather info from other survivors and witnesses – they might not trust everyone, but they should trust me. However, that means I have to tell them about what I have seen. Two problems with that: a) who can I trust, b) I don’t remember everything.

That’s it. That’s my list for now. Four of those things are active, especially becoming a doctor. That should be my main focus: the hospital and my studies. And I have to stop feeling like a fake nurse. I don’t know why I keep feeling like me becoming a doctor is way out there and it cannot happen.

Human body is a fascinating thing and I could read about it forever. I’m studying for my exams. First year of medical degree. I’m very serious when it comes to all my reading, my assignments, patients, all of it. I take full responsibility and I’m seriously invested. But as soon as I’m not doing it, I feel like a fake. It’s so stupid. I’ve now read a whole bunch of books. I have helped many people – no idea about the number, but I’d say about 20 people a day, on average… Oh wait, many people are repeats… Oh who cares. I help people. Shit! Sometimes I annoy myself.

Sid is the only one who doesn’t annoy me right now. Sid the gold lily on my flag. BTW, I’m really noticing the symbol of my beloved homeland now. Soldiers, men and women, are brought in, their uniforms different, but one thing is the same – the gold lilies, the historic symbol, the one forbidden to us for many decades, over a century in fact.

Plus, I never knew that we can love our country as much as I love Bosnia right now, now that it is being attacked so viciously.

Okay, this is what I have to stop doing. FOCUS!!!! Stop thinking about ten different things at once. I should get on with some more reading.

Entry 76

They say patience is a saintly virtue. I believe that. I also believe we can’t all be saints. I am trying. I am really really trying so hard. But the moment Sid is not here to fill my head with her imagination, I’m itching. Somewhere deep inside I have an itch that I can’t scratch, and it’s driving me insane. I have to do something.

Benjamin left without saying goodbye. I know he had to, I get it. But I really need to talk to him. This is a burden that I can’t carry on my own. Between honouring my family without even knowing who has survived, and someone must have, my hate for boots that I am trying to see as a rational person, and now the lies that are eating me from the inside, I feel like I’m being torn. At the same time, I have to remember what happened. For my own peace of mind, I have to get my brain to remember. I need to act. I love my amazing fairy. She is the greatest. But it’s not enough. I need to act. Do something. At least make a plan of action. Set some kind of dates. Goals. Something…

I need a soldier. I need boots. Someone in boots to be on my side.

Shit!

The only way to beat boots is with more boots? Of course it is. Fight fire with fire, for fuck sake.

What do I do?

Sid said it’ll come to me. When? How?

Entry 75

I had to talk to someone. I could feel my liver turning into stone with all the newspaper articles. Breathing became a challenge.

Who could I talk to except Sid? She asked me why was I reading those. Do I have a choice? The truth matters, maybe more than anything else right now. I might not remember the whole truth, but I know lies. And lies are making this so much worse.

Sid gave me a word of encouragement. She said I will get there. I don’t know how. But I do know with her by my side, it might all work out. Her imagination stepped up again. We’ve managed to put my fire and her water together to create a world that gave me courage. Courage led to patience, and I feel better.

I’ve never been good with patience. I’m a waterfall. I get on with it. But there is nothing I can do right now. I have to wait for my time, and that drives me crazy. It would be impossible without her and the stories she creates.

We both lost track of time sitting in my room, winning battles no one has ever fought. Sid stayed too long, and had to sleep at the hospital. Apparently, she’s done this many times.

I wish I could control my mind the way she controls hers. She has such a handle on compartmentalising. Action versus patience - find the right balance and victory is guaranteed.

Entry 74

I am so angry! I have never been this angry. I have never wanted to scream as much as I do right now. What the FUCK is wrong with the world? How is this happening?

I found the newspapers the UN brought here. Newspapers in English I read no problem, the Italian and German ones I could make out the gist. It’s all the same crap. It’s lies. Serbian leaders claiming it was self-defence!!!! They say they are murdering out of self-defence. What the actual fuck?! What danger were they in? Imaginary? That means they need to be institutionalised. They need fucking therapy. Yet here I am in therapy, and they are talking to the world how my family deserved to die. In fact, had to die or we would have… I can’t even… What the fuck?!?!

It feels like the whole world wants me dead just because Serbs claim they feel danger. What the fuck kind of chaos would there be in every country of the world if someone killed because they ‘feel danger’. What danger? No one fucking bothered to ask. No one care if Serbian psychotic fear is legitimate. It doesn’t even seem to matter that the Serbs are fucking psychos. The world is bowing to them.

Zvornik! Apparently Muslims murdered Serbs there!!! So how the fuck are Serbs still alive and Muslims are not?

We are all facing arms embargo. Apparently this should make the war go away. Are our leaders that stupid? Serbs have taken over the Yugoslavian army. Not that they had right to it, since we are the ones who invested in it. But they have taken it, and that’s one of the most powerful armies in Europe. They have attacked unarmed civilians. Arms embargo on both sides means the leaders of the world are giving Serbs green light to murder.

I need to calm down. How are these lies going to be fixed? Is that another issue I am going to have to deal with? Pathetic journalists around the world who are incapable of finding out the truth have published lies that MUST be fixed! And who should fix them? People who know the truth. Who are they? Well, speaking from experience they are struggling to come to terms with what is happening. The reality is too fucking brutal to acknowledge and yet… those making money off the Serbian lies will need to be begged to correct their mistakes in such a way that people, the readers, the only ones that matter fix the mistakes in their heads.

I can’t fucking believe this. Don’t I have enough to deal with?

What happened to the world? Has it always been like this and I just don’t know it? We’ve travelled. I never thought anyone wants us dead. What is happening? Hypocrites! They said ‘never again’, yet they lied! They lied about everything!!!

Oh God! Help me! Please, help me! How am I going to handle all of this?

Entry 73

I’ve read five newspapers cover to cover. I’ve never done that. In fact, reading a newspaper was for the old people, not for me. It’s time to be ‘old’. I should read every newspaper I can get my hands on. The UN soldiers left some from their own countries, I need to find those.

I can’t believe I’ve been so naïve. I am a witness, not just a survivor. It’s too much to grasp.

My whole hometown has been ethnically cleansed. I think this is called ‘crime against humanity’… oh Ayla should be here. She was always interested in that. She wanted to study international law. I was never fit for that. She must have survived to help me. We could do it together. On my own? I don’t think I stand a chance.

This whole time I thought the boots had to be killed and that was that. Oh it’s so much bigger than that. It’s about my people, my homeland. As a witness, I have a duty... I still want the boots dead, but I want justice as well. This is NOT just my problem, this is way beyond just me. It’s called ‘crime against humanity’ for a reason. It’s about my homeland, my people, and the whole humanity.

I’m shaking all over.

Bosnia is a country of lilies. A country of good people who see a friend in everyone. We are known for being smart and naïve. We trust. We forgive. Maybe even too much… Why are we in this hell? Because we forgave too much in the past? That is possible!

I want to tell Sid. I need advice. I need someone to talk to. But will that put her in danger?

Survivors, if there are any, are forced into silence. I can’t handle that. I love Bosnia too much to just stay silent. Yet I have to be smart about this. If I just focus on my love, maybe I could do what’s right and not what feels like a necessity?

Entry 72

I spoke to Benjamin, finally. I’ve been making excuses for days. Well, some of my excuses were legitimate like: he has visitors. Others, like, ‘the doctor will be here shortly’ is not a good excuse. I knew the doctor was not coming. There are two other patients on his floor, both are fine, regular visits from nurses are enough, and the lift is used only for emergencies since there isn’t enough electricity. Doctors are too busy to climb up here for no real reason.

However, Benjamin is about to be released so I had to speak up. I’m not leaving the hospital and I doubt he’ll be coming back. Hence, who knows when I’ll see him again?

I had my little speech prepared, I knew exactly what I wanted to say. Did I say it? Fuck no! Somehow I ended up telling him how I’m really a patient at the hospital acting as a nurse – bad choice of words, I’m not acting as a nurse, I am a nurse, I cut him, it was the wrong thing to say, but I was so nervous my tongue felt paralysed.

He smirked and said “Pull another one. You, a patient?”

Before I knew it I was telling him everything. I felt like my cousin Amina, the one that Sid reminds me of. Well, used to remind me. Sid has earned a very special place in my heart… Not the point.

So I told Benjamin everything in the silent hospital room on the top floor. I told him stuff I haven’t told even Sid. In fact, I’ve realised that I have no idea what Sid knows and what she doesn’t know. But she must know a bit. She called me a phoenix. Then again, does that mean she knows what happened?

I don’t think she knows. It’s just… I have no idea what I said when I first came to the hospital. Memory of that has not returned. And now, after taking to Benjamin, my story is much bigger than I realised. 

Oh man, I’m all over the place, I need to calm the fuck down.

Alright, Benjamin and my conversation with him…

After I told him everything that I can remember, and all the things that I can’t remember, he used my chin as some kind of a leaver to turn my face toward him and then said “Don’t ever tell anyone what you just told me.”

That’s when I realised that I hadn’t, or at least I don’t think I have...

“I want to kill them all…” I whispered.

Benjamin nodded “I get that. But first we have to find out who they are. You don’t want to kill an innocent person, do you?”

My chest felt so tight I thought I was going to pass out. I could feel my eyes burning.

“You survived…” Benjamin whispered with a slight smile that felt like pride, or joy, or some kind of encouragement. “Blooming heck girl, you survived.” He repeated with an exhale.

He told me he read about the massacre that killed my family. He said there were very few survivors in Visegrad, and even if there were any, no one has spoken up, at least not yet.

We went from few survivors to no one has survived in one sentence. Is that the story of my hometown? Hope of survival? Well, I’m proof that that hope is not in vain.

“I’m gona try leave this place today or tomorrow the latest,” he said energetically. I felt a wave of loss that I know only too well lately. “I’ll ask around,” he went on. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anyone know about you. In fact, I think you should forget we met. I mean, we did, but I was just a patient.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. He wanted me to forget I met him after I told him things I hadn’t told anyone?

“You’re not just a survivor,” he frowned at me, “you’re a witness.”

Those words hit me like a ton of bricks right on the chest. I’m a witness! For any criminal those are the most hated individuals. Not only does it mean that the criminal failed, but they might have to answer.

“What’s your story here?” Benjamin whispered. “How do people know you?”

I needed a moment to think. “They don’t,” that was the gist of it. I repeated where I live, how I came to volunteer at the hospital, how I stayed because the hospital is so desperate. How I’m studying medicine, how it all feels surreal… He just sat there listening patiently to all the stuff I said only some minutes ago.

“The hospital is too busy for conversations?” Benjamin nodded. “Good. But if a conversation should come up, I suggest you tell people that you were here, in Zenica, when the war started, and when you heard what happened in Visegrad, you had a break down and you were brought to the hospital.”

He spoke like a soldier in him. It was so tap-tap-tap, the man was on a mission. There was no emotion in his tone. It was so dry, it made every nerve in my body stand to attention.

That’s when I started to think about my situation in terms other than myself and what am I going through. What am I into, really? How big is this? Not just for me but for others.

My brain felt foggy and I had no time for that. I had to go. I’m no longer just a volunteer at the hospital, I’m a student. Some of my lectures are on the go – practice and theory combined into one. I couldn’t be late.

I wanted to ask him if we can chat later, but he interrupted before I gathered enough courage to get the words out.

“I’ll be back as soon as I have some info,” he said.

I was making my way to the door, but I had to see his eyes.

“Remember, we never had this conversation.” He looked so serious and cold, it sent a shiver down my spine.  

He has no idea what that sentence means in my head where memory is just flicks of light that pop up randomly. But I know what he meant, and I’m sure he knows I’ll never forget.

Part of me is sorry we didn’t have the normal ‘I like you’ conversation that people our age have all over the world. But, it is what it is, and he said he’ll be back.

Entry 71

Sid can really get into my head. I’ve been thinking about Benjamin. How do I feel about him? How could I feel? Okay, maybe he’s not just a patient. But he’s the first person I cut. That’s big stuff. You don’t forget the first person you cut. Plus, he only had one boot. His other boot was lost with his leg. Then again, there maybe more. Sid has become a bit of a fairy in my life. I couldn’t have made it without her. Maybe she’s the spirit of the squirrel that I need; that push. The same push I had that morning when a real squirrel showed up.

But who would want me? A girl between life and death, closer to death than life in terms of attraction. A girl who’s busy becoming a doctor while planning revenge and murder.

Then again, Benjamin might understand. It would be nice to have someone… Just have someone. Is that insane? Is it selfish? Oh God! I need another sign. I can’t ask for another squirrel… It seems when people become incapable of making their own decisions, they pass the buck to God – please, make this decision for me. And I am one desperate and very lost gal. Oh dear!

I have to talk to him, there is no other choice. No point asking for a sign when this is what I must do. I hope luck will be on my side and I don’t say something stupid.

Entry 70

I told Sid about Benjamin. He’s doing well. His visitors are all friends, I don’t think he has much of a family or they live too far to come. Anyway, I’m checking in on him a little more often because I cut him.

“You fancy him,” Sid said.

“What? Don’t be stupid.”

“You do. I have to meet him. I have a gift for these things. Seriously. One look and I’ll tell you if he’s the right man for you.”

“Stop that! You’re insane. He’s just a…”

“He will not be a patient forever. Besides, patients and doctors are allowed to fall in love with one another.”

“Love?!”

“Yes, love… You know love.”

“You’re insane, I’m going back to work.”

I stood up, feeling like she kicked all air out of me.

She followed. 

“Where are you going?” I snapped at her.

“With you. You’re going to check on him, and I want to be there so you can introduce us. That’s how I’ll meet him.”

She made it sound so simple. On the surface, it might look simple, but it’s really not. I kind a made sure he has the best room for recovery. The new building in this hospital complex located at the foot of three hills is the university, paediatrics, and recovery. I made sure Benjamin has a room on the top floor, reserved for high ranking military and political personnel. It wasn’t difficult, he was already labelled as a miracle survivor, I was congratulated on good work – BTW, it’s a bit odd, people don’t know about me and my survival, yet they are referring to me as the agent of miracles. Anyway, I knew Sid would make a big deal out of Benjamin’s room, but I couldn’t stop her, she followed me persistently.

Benjamin seemed a little confused when I introduced them, but she said ‘I’m just checking your post traumatic state’ – I was confused. I mean, it makes sense, she’s a nurse in psychiatry, and he has just had huge trauma, but where did that come from? No one wounded is getting that kind of treatment.

Anyway, she walked out, I checked that Benjamin was fine and then I walked out too. She was in the hall, waiting for me, ready to squeal and hop “You’re so going to marry him,” she said.

I couldn’t believe my ears. What the fuck was she on about? Marry? Me?

“Trust me,” she nodded confidently as we made our way to the stairs, “you will marry that guy. You two are made for each other.”

“Please stop!” I walked faster.

She followed “It might take time, pretend like I didn’t say this, take it slow, but eventually, trust me, you two will get married.”

She kept trying to convince me. I kept pushing her away. The idea of getting married… I… NO! Does love even exist in this kind of chaos and mayhem? Death all around me, yet I fall in love???? Shit! That would be so stupid.

Entry 69

I really am a waterfall. I might not grasp the full meaning of that, at least not until something happens, and everybody stops to take a moment, except me, I dive right in.

They carried in a guy screaming ‘bring me my leg’. He had lost so much blood, he seemed depleted. He wasn’t responsive, clearly his screams were automatic or something, because the look in his bloodshot eyes was lost.

We run up to the operating theatre 12, but the doctor wasn’t coming. I removed the guys clothes, and he had a huge bruise, just like the one another patient had two days ago. I knew it was a sign of internal bleeding, and considering that Benjamin’s screams were getting really shaky and elongated, I cut him.

Doctor Sammi came in and took over.

Three hours later he told me “Well, if you can do the cutting so well, you can do the stitching too. Take it over nurse.”

I cut a guy. I cut a human being and saved him. Me! And I didn’t even think about it. It was just… I was there, I knew it had to be done, I did it.

People die very fast in this place. Sometimes, you just have to try. But I could have killed him? Then again, if the shrapnel didn’t kill him, what chance did I have?

To make things a little more fun, I was just reading about brain tissue. Remove the T and you’ve got brain issue. I think that’s what happened, I removed the T and ended up with a huge brain issue.

It all worked out. Benjamin is in recovery. I check on him all the time. It’ll be a few days before he’s really in the clear, but so far so good.

Entry 68

There is so much soul in sharing your imagination with someone. Bits of reality inevitably make it into the world of fantasy, breaking it up, but if your mind is strong enough you just go past that, ignore it, and imagine the world as you wish it to be.

Sid and I have created a world of our own. It’s become so familiar we can just dive right into it. Our magical forest where we have power to win against evil. She uses water, I use my power over time, and we win every battle easily. Plus, the animals help. And the good wins before the evil has a chance to cause any harm.

It’s fascinating that even a woman with magical powers has to be beautiful. You’d think magical powers would be enough, but not so.

“With magical powers, of course she’d be beautiful,” Sid rolled her eyes when I suggested that perhaps our looks aren’t that important. 

In our last episode, a demon attacked our forest, so I had to slow down time for her to get enough water to throw it on the monster, and then freeze it. We, or I, communicated with the animals for the information.

Sounds so stupid when I write it, but it was so real when she dragged me into it. We were in it completely. Sometimes, I feel people looking at us, sitting on our bench, imitating all that we would do… I don’t care. Frowns, smiles, or shaking heads, I love our forest of perfection and everyone else can just bugger off.

Entry 67

Zero time has been wasted getting me into medical uni. I am officially a student. My school days are over.

Four books on medicine has turned into 17 in one day, the day that I got my results, like they MUST have had them prepared and they were just waiting for the green light to give me three bags of books. I’m going through them one by one.

Stack of books on human body next to my bed, never thought I’d see that. Let alone that I’d love them all. They’re helping me feel serious about my job – being a nurse. It’s still hard to believe that I’m doing it. I’m stitching people up. Me! WTF?! And I love it. Which makes it even weirder.

Entry 66

I told Sid about the squirrel. She and I met on our usual bench – BTW, everyone knows and respects that that’s our bench and they stay away from it. Anyway, the weather is getting hot now, and we were just enjoying the shade and I was like “Okay, I have to tell you something, but you must promise you will not think any less of me.”

“After you told me about stealing a dead arm and then giving it back, seriously? It’s worse than that?” She smiled.

I had to think. Is it worse? “I don’t know if this is worse, but it is odd.”

And then I told her all about being nervous to go out, asking for a sign, and the sign being the squirrel.

She tried not to laugh, but she failed. When I asked her why was she laughing she shook her head “You’re not the only one with a weird mind.”

“What? Come on, you have to tell me.”

She sat up “You know how much I love you, right?”

I nodded.

“I just thought… This thought just popped up, and it might sound like an insult…”

“Oh, get it out already!” I snapped at her.

“I thought…” she took my hand, “I thought, of course your spirit animal is a squirrel, you’re attracted to nuts.”

I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard. I don’t know why she’d think that was an insult. One, I’m attracted to her, so that makes her a nut. And two, it is 100% true. I am a nut, attracted to my own sort.

Then she told me something very interesting – she’s no stranger to asking for a sign, in fact, she seeks predictions in various ways: coffee cups, beans, even tarot cards. Apparently she’d love to have a crystal ball. She’s afraid to summon ghosts, which means she believes in ghosts. I might have to ask her to try my future at some point. Not that I believe in that. But then… Fate versus decisions we make, or, more importantly, decisions other people make for us… I guess that would be useful to know. What decisions are other people making that could affect my life? Anyway… Plenty of time for that.

Entry 65

I got all A’s. I can’t say it’s without Ayla. Reading the textbooks brought it all back, knowledge that I gained with her.

They want to give me my diploma.

I don’t want it.

I’ve asked Sid to take it for me and just keep it at her home.

I just can’t face the idea that I have this important piece of paper, and Ayla doesn’t. Or I don’t know if she does.

I’ve done the high school, that’s good enough. I don’t need to see the diploma, at least not yet. Let’s just move on…

Entry 64

The results of my exams are due tomorrow. I think I’ve passed considering that I’ve already been given four medical university textbooks, which I am reading (thanks Ayla, seems your persistent reading ahead has become a habit that I can’t get rid of). Though, to be perfectly honest, I think the hospital would accept me even if I haven’t passed. The situation is really bad and they need people who can handle it. And I can. There is something so uplifting about helping, especially the really bad cases.   

Besides, the books I’m reading now are all new knowledge to me so what does it matter if I passed geography. From what I can tell, there’s just a lot about human body not about humans from here or there. Like there’s no difference and geography plays no role.

I knew a little about the human body, but this is like I knew nothing at all. Is it weird that this new information is helping me plan better how to kill those who killed my family? I should be learning how to save lives, right? Funny, learning how to save lives also teaches how to take them.

My favourite part of the day is chatting to Sid on our bench. It’s really hot now, so the shade is cool. But it takes like three minutes for us to carry on in our imaginary world and forget all that’s happening around us. Sid has the ability to bring me into her head, into her imagination. It surprises me every time. One moment I’m just in my head, trying to figure it all out, the next moment I’m floating into a world she knows so well, yet makes it up as we go along. It’s hard to describe. But I’m pretty sure that in all that improvisation, a lot of it already exists, or I hope a lot of it pre-prepared. It’s too amazing if it isn’t.

I should suggest she becomes a writer! I will suggest that! But then, she’s really good as a nurse as well. She should do both. Wooooow… This is what Ayla used to do to me. Be this, be that, be both, in fact, here’s something else you can be, just be everything. That used to annoy me. Drive me nuts, in fact. Hmm… Things have changed, haven’t they?

Entry 63

Fireworks never stop. Sid is the only one who gets that sentence. I wouldn’t dare to even mention to anyone that bombing is fireworks. She’s become such a big part of my life. If fairies really exist, I was blessed with the best one. I mean, Cinderella, darling, step aside. Your fairy only dressed you and gave you transport, and even that had a ‘use by’ date. My fairy saved me, brought me back to me, and she just keeps on being here.

Our chats on our bench are more about fantasies and imaginary world than anything real. I think we spent about two minutes going over updates on her family, and my life at the hospital, and then an hour about how she wants to have power over water, and when I said I want to have power over animals she was like: “Well, that’s nice, and it’s cool and all that, but it has to be something that life depends on. TIME! You should have the power over time!” She almost jumped up at her own idea. She was very excited, so I had to accept, but then she gave me power over animals and time.

We’ve got as far as making up spells…

We’ve managed to create a whole new world, a world that makes us happy. It might be crazy, or it might be normal, but if being happy is crazy, then I’ll choose crazy.

Entry 62

Life is made up of little pieces. For me, those pieces are all the people in my life, my family. They can drive me nuts sometimes, but each and every one of them is a part of me. And I am part of them. We are the way we are because of that. We’re all similar yet different. Alone, none of us is much to look at, but together, we make a cool image. Family photo compared to a single face in a passport.

The worst case scenario makes me want to puke, so I’m trying not to think about it. Besides, why torture myself like that? It is highly unlikely that I am the only survivor.

I must have faith in my courage to face the events of the past that have changed my life forever. But, as long as I’m alive, I must do my best. I’m no fool. I know I’ve gone through a tragedy, but I’m also not a nobody. It’s not about forgetting the past, that can never be. The past is the reason I’m here. And for every moment that I am here, I will honour the past and have courage for the future. It’ll take some time to sort out the mess in my head, but time is the only thing I have.

I must move forward with faith and hope. Keep my vision clear, my heart ready. There must be a reason I’m still alive.

Entry 61

That death scene, or the loss, I saw at the hospital really got to me. I’ve been thinking a lot about it. Or, I’ve been thinking about my situation.

Hope! That’s all I’ve got and it’s the difference between what I saw and what I’m going through. I get Pandora’s box much better now. Zeus didn’t put hope in the box. Anyone who would do so much evil, and it was Zeus NOT Pandora, wouldn’t think to put hope in there. Hope steps in when there is so much loss we wouldn’t survive the sorrow. Our fight for survival is natural, like: a law of nature. Therefore, that fight for survival, as long as there is a chance, will override all other events. Hope is the way we survive.

I am wrapped in hope right now. What will be in the future, is unknown, but right now, in this moment, I’m holding onto hope for dear life.

Entry 60

I’m rethinking my thoughts on death. Or! Wait… What do I want to say?

How could I forget… No, I didn’t forget, it just… Death isn’t about the departed, it’s about the living. Those of us who remain behind.

The hospital is so chaotic, I’ve only met the families of those who survived, who were saved by some amazing doctor. Today, for the first time, I saw a family who were told that their loved one didn’t make it. I was far away, but I heard the scream of a woman, I assume the mother. She was pulled by a man into a hug, a strong, all embracing hung, yet her cries continued to echo over the noise of the hospital.

I thought I knew the pain of grief, but that was… It hit my heart in a way I’ve never felt before. I know a lot about tight chest, and chest pains, but this was more like the heart almost snapping and the ribcage being empowered, like electrified, to keep the heart together. Survival mechanism that kicks in automatically whether we want it or not.

Who survives, and who doesn’t? It’s all just one big mystery. It’s easier to think it was written in the stars, but many of these people, in fact, 99% of our patients wouldn’t be here if some lunatic didn’t shoot deadly objects. We can blame the stars, or find comfort in the tale of fate, but the fact is, some moron made a decision that has created this chaos that costs innocent lives, and causes unspeakable trauma. Those people who cause this must pay for it in this life and the life to come.

Entry 59

Boots and pearls! That’s what it all comes down to.

The hospital is full of boots, the army boots, the boots like the ones I saw through the window when my grandpa’s house was burning. I am dealing with it, on my own, silently, I can’t tell even Sid about it. I can deal with boots that are not army-like. I’ve managed to see beyond my experience. But I’m struggling a little more with the heavy, black, thick sole, leather ones worn by everyone taking part in this fucking war. Taking them off someone helps. It gives me a sense of power, and the memory of the boots transforms like the woods in the moonlit night. I can handle it. I have to handle it.

The idea of pearls helps.

I told Sid about the time Ayla stole Grandma’s pearls and broke them, and how we were both punished for it.

“I get that,” Sid nodded. “Pearls are the best!” She overlooked the part I thought would stick – that we were both punished, that I was punished for something my sister did. But Sid’s mind chose its own way.

I followed: “What?! The white balls?”

“They’re not just white balls,” she seemed comically disappointed, “they’re grains of sand that went through a painful transformation inside a shell in some deep ocean.”

Okay, I was wrong. Pearls are more than just white balls. And Sid is like a pearl. There is something so deep and hidden about her.

“I have an hourglass at home,” she smiled, “every time I see the sand move from the top to the bottom I wonder if one of those grains will become a pearl. Right now, I think it should.”

I think she shares more than a name with my sister. People are like snowflakes, and a moment can become a pearl.

Entry 58

Sid and I can create a world that even Hollywood wouldn’t be able to bring to life! She and I have taken to fantasising about magical powers that would enable us to end this war.

We are the warriors.

We are the rulers of the mountains.

We can make water fly, and trees move.

The forest is our home, because from there we can see all, yet no one can see us.

It sounds so childish, yet it is sooooo much fun. Then again, when coffee, just a cup of coffee, becomes part of your fantasy, it can only go up from there.

At some point I will have to write a story based on our imagination collaborating in the best way possible. Right now, I have to run to the hospital. Night shift is lacking volunteers. People are getting tired. Understandable. Sid is at home, so no breaks with her, but she’ll be here first thing in the morning.

Entry 57

Man alive, seriously, what’s wrong with my brain? I haven’t noticed that there’s no food. Sid brought it up. She and I meet for chats on our bench during our breaks as well as ‘after work’.  

“Haven’t you noticed that you’ve been on a steady diet of beans, corn, and dry bread for months now?” She said, her head tilted, her smile soft.

“No,” I shook my head, “I hadn’t noticed.”

She laughed. “How could you not notice?” She asked gently the question many people would snap out of their mouths in anger. “Do you remember coffee?” Sid asked me, knowing the answer. “That was the last of it, the batch you smelled.”

“There’s no coffee?” I was honestly shocked, but of course there’s no coffee, we don’t grow it.

Sid shook her head. “We have chicory now.”

“The weed with blue flowers?”

She looked at me as if she was trying to see into my mind through my eyes. “How does your mind work?”

“I don’t know,” I used my cartoon voice. “It’s weird, right?” How could I remember chicory so easily, yet it takes me forever to remember my own life? I’ve heard about chicory from my grandma. I want to say it’s good for the liver???

We fantasised about pizza and burgers, and hot chocolate. We promised each other all of those as soon as the war is over. Now, all I can think about is cake. Irma made the best chocolate cake ever. All kinds of cake. I really really want some cake. And coffee. I haven’t had a carving for it, but now, I’d cross a mountain to get a cup. And fresh bread. There were times when we’d suddenly have like 50 people at our house for breakfast, and dad would go to the bakery and get like a basket of freshly baked bread.

“Imagine if it could rain coffee beans,” I said to Sid pointing at the clear blue sky.

“Ummm…” She closed her eyes. “And sugar!”

“Sugar?” I looked at her. “How would we separate the two?”

“We’d find a way,” she nodded as the sirens went off calling all available staff back to the hospital.

I jumped up but she pulled me “I just…” she began almost crying. “My older brother is on the front lines.”

I couldn’t grasp her meaning; why was she telling me this?

“I have his photo here,” she said taking out a damaged photo of a handsome young man sitting under a tree in some garden, smiling to compliment the sunny day that it was. “If they bring him, could you… I can’t stand the sight of blood, even though I volunteered at the hospital. That’s why they sent me there,” she nodded at the psychiatry building. “I want to be here is he’s…”

“If, God forbid,” I took her hands, “but if he’s brought in, I will take care of him as if he’s my own brother.”

She smiled the sweetest smile I’ve ever seen.

Sister’s love! Does it get any deeper?

And, I must say, being able to remove the worry on her face, the dread in her beautiful eyes, fills me with more joy than I thought possible right now.

Entry 56

With my exams over, they’ve relaxed the rules a little. Not that they told me, I just figured because Sid stopped being so nervous when I’m late. She also agreed to wait for me at the bench – we chose one bench in the park that’s close enough to the main hospital so I can see her through a window, and far enough so she doesn’t hear the ‘screams’. She said the only thing she can hear at the hospital is agonising screams. I have noticed them, but they don’t bother me. Sometimes, people need to scream. Sometimes, I wish I could just scream. But that’s the difference between physical injuries and emotional ones – physical ones are visible, therefore anyone can be excused for screaming. Emotional and mental pain isn’t visible. So if you start screaming people get very confused.

Sid calls the waiting for me on a bench a promotion. She smiles as she sits under the tree, listening to the birds chirping. Weather is just magnificent. Not too hot, and the cold days are behind us.

We sit on the bench and chat. This sprinkle of normality removes my need to scream. We chat about anything and everything, whatever comes up. Though I have noticed that she doesn’t like to hear about the hospital, and I’m not sure I’m allowed to tell her – patient confidentiality and all that, not that anyone told us about it, I just know it. But Sid likes to hear about the stuff I remember. She loves it when I tell her about the notes I’m making in my ‘family’ journals. It’s interesting, I have this one notebook where I write about me and how I feel and what I think, I’ve filled in about 40 to 50 pages – it’s a thick notebook. Yet, I’ve filled in eight thinker notebooks, and I’m half way through a thick notebook with the notes on my loved ones. Talking to Sid about this helps me remember more and more.

Though I behave very seriously and responsibly at the hospital, I still feel like a fake. I wonder if that will ever go away.

Entry 55

I’ve done all the revising I intend to do. I am due to sit three exams tomorrow. I am not nervous at all. I just want to get it over and done with. Then again, I’m aiming for just a pass. I had all A’s before, but that was because Ayla insisted that if she has all A’s I had to have them as well. I know I’ll get some B’s and C’s, maybe even some D’s, but she can tell me off for that when she comes. For now, I’m doing this my way. Though I am worried about her. Where is she? What is she doing? Is there someone taking care of her, helping her?

I’m also at the hospital every day, helping. Usually I’m cleaning wounds, or dead bodies. Well, I do whatever needs doing from cleaning the halls to assisting with operations. Previously, they told me I have to get my high school diploma and become a medical student before they can treat me as a proper nurse. However, I’m officially a nurse even though I have not received my diploma let alone become a medical student. I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t think anyone does. But the idea of me being a nurse, like proper nurse, makes me giggle. It sounds like a beginning of a bad joke… Just going with the flow. Trying not to think too much about how much I want to share this with Ayla and what would she say.

I’m not allowed to stay at the hospital longer than eight hours a day, which is fine… Sid has been assigned the task of helping me keep track of time – I still get lost and just forget. I don’t really understand it, I’ve never been like this, if anything, I’ve always been very responsible about time, but Sid is doing a great job. She hates going into the main hospital, the place freaks her out, she said “Organs, bones, and blood should all be packaged neatly inside our skin,” cringing at the idea that they are often found outside our skin, and it is a mess.

She waits for me by the door. I hate to keep her waiting, so that helps me remember to check if she’s there. I love that door. It led me to the hospital, and now, even when I’m leaving I look forward to walking through the park with Sid, chatting away like two completely normal young women. Normal? Hmm… Well, our version of normal includes fantasy. It’s the only way to survive this mess. Imagination and fairy tales. But I believe that’s normal.

The hospital feels natural to me, but I can tell that Sid does NOT want to hear the details.

I wish I could stay there longer. When I’m alone, I’ve started to hear silences. It’s really odd, and it annoys me to no end. Being at the hospital is an escape from that, so I wish I could stay there, but I understand that I should rest no matter how much I don’t want to. I have to take it slow.

Entry 54

Oh what a relief!

I’ve brought the diary with me to the hospital. After my last entry, I don’t think I should leave it. I don’t think anyone’s been reading it, but just in case.

I’m hiding in the loo, writing.

I told Dean’s mum about the arm. She seemed a little shocked, but she agreed to tell others. When she did, it was like a gallery of facial expressions. We had it all, from giggling, to being so horrified I thought one person was going to pass out.

Dean wants to hold a funeral for his dead arm, marking his final resting place already. He’s barely twenty years old. It is his right arm. I was hoping he’s a lefty, he isn’t. He’s gona miss that arm. But this is giving him a sense of closure and stability. There was a look of gratitude on his face; a sorrowful smile, like ‘it’s not ideal, but it’s better than nothing’. So I think I did good. Then again, it occurred to me that I left it under a pine tree like a Christmas gift. I didn’t mean that. But, sometimes, fate, gives us a hand – pun intended.

I have to get back to work for another hour or so, and then back to my revision, if I can even call it that. I know all that stuff. Ayla has hammered it into my brain forever.

I’ve been given my exam time table; starts next week. Three exams on the first day, then two, then one, then a day off, then two, then another two, then a day off, then three and then one to end. 14 altogether. That’s high school. The examiners will come to the hospital, which is a relief as well.

Entry 53

Okay, I need to write this in case I find myself being sued. Who knows what my amnesia will remove next?

I’ve already written about how I came to the hospital. Well, that first patient, Dean as it happens, he had his arm chopped off by shrapnel. He’s fine now, but just as the doctor finished and was ready to leave the operating room someone came in with Dean’s arm.

It all happened really fast. The doctor was giving orders to the other two volunteers to get the patient out to such and such room, he told me to take the kit back to the storage, and then someone just opened the door, holding an arm “This is his,” they said. I took the arm and looked at the doctor. The guy who brought it just left.

The doctor looked at me and said “That’s dead, take it to the mortuary.”

One of the other volunteers took the kit “You take that, I’ll take this for you, it’s on my way anyway,” she said.

I was holding this arm, much heavier than I thought it would be, and I couldn’t believe it.

The mortuary is in the basement, hardly any light at all. There are two areas, the large one with dead bodies, and a smaller room with various body parts just left on a metal table that looked so cold. I saw half a foot, a leg up to the knee, a hand, a couple of fingers, even an ear. I had no idea what they do with those, but I couldn’t leave the arm just there. Since then I’ve learned that they burn the lot. Anyway…

So, I took the arm and went down the dark long hall to just think. At the end of the hall was a door. Another one of those with a long bar across it. That door hasn’t been opened in a long time. The hinges were squeaking and there were dry leaves on the other side of it.

The outside looked like the perfect place to hide a dead arm – woods all around, particularly pine trees with their branches like a long skirt of those old dresses that ladies used to wear. I took a large bin-bag, well it was one of those industrial ones, huge and tough, I filled it with earth, and then I stuffed the arm into the earth. Then I left the bag with the earth and the arm under a tree. But, I was worried some animals might find it, so I went around and collected rocks and broken bricks, and anything else I could find. I left the bag tucked into the spiky needled branches that rest on the ground. And then I covered the whole bag with the rocks.

I know this isn’t the best thing to do, but… Okay, this is insane. A moon must have cast a shadow over my brain when I did this, but I swear my heart was in the right place. Now, looking back, I should have just left the arm with the other body parts… Oh man! I just couldn’t. I knew it would be missed. And, I don’t want to fix this mistake. I’ve checked on the arm a few times, it’s safe. But I should tell Dean about it. It is his arm. I saved it for him. If I don’t give it back it’ll be as if I stole a dead arm, and that’s worse than just saving a dead arm.

Dean’s family and friends are visiting him on daily basis. I spoke to his mum a few times. I think she’s very understanding. I have to tell Dean about the arm, but maybe I should tell his mum first?

Entry 52

Ayla and I skipped second and sixth grade, so we were in our final year of high school when the war started, in fact, we were about six weeks away from our final exams. Ayla was one of those rare students who prepared a year in advance, and I had to be just as weird. So, when Doctor Lily asked me if I want to repeat the final year before I do my exams I said “Please don’t make me! I’ve been through that year twice already; once for real, and once because my sister is such a weirdo.”

Education minister wrote to Doctor Lily that she’d be happy to grant local high school permission to let me sit final exams.

The head of that high school came with a pile of books and said “Doctor Lily is convinced that you’ll have no problem remembering this stuff.”

The sight of those books, just the covers, took me right back to a school bench, sitting with Ayla, having her push me on. Can I do this without her?

Well, only one way to find out – dig into these books.

Entry 51

While I was writing that entry, wondering what on earth will happen now, a nurse came and told me to go to Dr Lily’s office. Dr Balkan was there. He was frowning, she was smiling.

We had a chat about why I went out and how did I end up helping at the hospital – I did NOT mention the squirrel, I thought that would make me sound nuts. It felt like he was concerned about the amount of death taking place in that building on the other side of the park. Why would I be concerned about death? I can’t wait for mine. I just need to get some stuff done, and then bye-bye world. However, he didn’t mention death, and neither did I.

Long story short, hospital is desperate for volunteers and Dr Obran thought I’m a natural, he even said I should consider becoming a surgeon.

“He said he’d be happy to help every step of the way,” Dr Lily looked proud, “that he’s never seen a talent like you. So, have you ever thought about becoming a surgeon, or a doctor of any kind?”

I could tell she feared I wouldn’t remember. But when it comes to that, there is nothing to remember.

“I’ve never figured out what I want to be,” I said. “Everyone always knew what they want to be, except me. I didn’t know. That’s what made me the odd one in my family.”

They both listened patiently, their expressions almost the same.

“But,” I went on, “I think I would like to be a doctor, perhaps even a surgeon. It appeals to me.”

Dr Balkan leaned towards me, the wrinkles on his forehead deep “So the sight of blood didn’t… for lack of a better word: traumatise you?”

“No, saving lives as much as possible felt very empowering.” That was the biggest truth I ever told. That’s exactly how it felt. I didn’t realise it until it just came out of my mouth.

A surgeon!? Me!? Really? The hospital MUST be very very desperate. In fact, I know they are. Wars are the busiest times for doctors.

I just can’t wrap my head around the idea of being something so important. Me?! The idiot trying to remember all the members in her family? Me? I might become a doctor? Part of me is excited to see that miracle come to life. The other part is certain I’ll fail, and I’m okay with that. It’s like, if you’re gona fail, fail at something huge. And this is so huge, even trying it is an accomplishment. So failure seems like – shrug!

Long story short, they are letting me carry on volunteering at the hospital. Thank God for that. I was thinking: What are my options? Sit here, in this room, wait for… For what? My memories are coming back, but what does that mean? I am in the pit of hell and have to find a way to live with that. I can’t escape that. If I had another life stashed away somewhere, I swear I’d leave this and take that other life on. But I don’t. This is the only life I have so I have to live it. The best I can hope for is to balance the hell out with some purpose, something to do, some way to get out there. Regain a sense of hope…

Entry 50

It wasn’t that crazy. I’ve been playing back the last two days, the ones I was missing but not missing.

I wondered out and walked through the park towards the main hospital. Strange sounds were getting louder. The closer I got the more I could hear screaming, shouting, and slamming of doors, calling out. By the time I got to the main building, there was commotion of sounds. I pressed my nose on a window but I couldn’t see much.

A small door a little further away from the window was ajar. I went in. I found myself behind a reception. I kind a panicked, that was no place for me. Plus, the sight of people running in all directions, shouting, carrying those that were bleeding, made me feel a sense of urgency. As I turned to leave, I knocked some papers to the floor. I picked them up, and while I was looking where to leave them, a guy in a white coat waved at me and said “Get me a surgical kit now! Operating room 1!”

I didn’t have a choice. I had to do as I was told. And the way his arm went from me to the door on his left while he was ordering me what to do, I figured I had to go that way.

The doctor went in the other direction, not even another glance at me. I made my way to get a surgical kit without any idea what that was or where to get it. Down the long hall behind the double doors four young men were carrying another young man on a stretcher. They were all covered in blood, but the look of horror on the faces of those doing the carrying was a complete contrast to the look of peace on the face of the guy being carried.

A woman in a white coat walked briskly behind them. I stopped her “Where do I get a surgical kit?”

She frowned at me “The storage!” she snatched her arm from my grip and went on.

A man dressed head-to-toe in white was running a few people behind her. I pulled him too. “Where's the storage?” I said.

He gave me an angry look, pointed behind me and said “On the right”. He also pulled his arm from me and continued running.

I made my way to the storage, careful I don't bump into people who took equal care that they don't bump into me. It’s odd, almost intuitive in a way. People bump into one another walking slowly on wide roads with plenty of space, yet in those tight corridors, where everyone was rushing no one bumped into another person.

I found the door with the word ‘storage’ on it. Feeling a sense of relief I opened it. Steam came right at me. I ignored it and walked into the room. Through the thick foggy air I saw at least four women. “Shut the door! Shut the door!” One of the women shouted, waving her arm frantically.

I did and said “Doctor sent me for a kit.”

“Wait by the door.”

I stepped back until I couldn’t step no more – the chunk of white wood pressing on my back made it clear I can’t go any further. In a few moments a woman came to me with a try of medical equipment “Didn't I tell you to wait by the door?” She said angrily, shouting as if I have a hearing problem.

I frowned at her, glancing back.

“The other side of the door!” She shouted even louder. “And where the fuck is your coat?”

I didn’t reply because I had no idea what she was talking about until she unhooked a white coat from the wall on my right and flung it at my face. I took the coat, put it on, and then grabbed the tray.

She opened the door. I left, back into the corridors of mayhem.

The hospital has 23 operating rooms. It is by sheer lack that I found the right one, on the first floor, where the mayhem gets considerably smaller. The stairs are almost like a magic passage into a different zone.

The operating room was well lit by the sun coming through the large windows.

The man on the table, the patient, had his arm chopped off. It seemed like he was coming in and out of coma every few seconds, making painful sounds. All I could do was stand there, with a huge desire to help.

No wonder Dr Obran mistook

Entry 49

It seems I’ve caused a bit of a clash of the Titans; Dr Obran – head of surgery, Dr Balkan – head of psychiatry, and Dr Lily, my doctor, keep repeating ‘two days’. Dr Balkan keeps saying how I’ve been missing for two days. Dr Obran keeps saying how I’ve been at the main part of the hospital, hence not missing for two days. And Dr Lily keeps smiling, more inclined to side with Dr Obran, but Dr Balkan is her boss. She mentions two days as evidence of my progress. Besides, she’s kind of responsible for my ‘recovery’ – they called it that, I’m not sure I agree but whatever; and that’s what the arguments were about: have I recovered enough for something like helping the wounded, or is it going to have a negative effect on the ‘progress made so far’.

I kept thinking about the squirrel and how the daft thing was right. I got out, and it was the right decision. But two days? I’ve been there for two whole days? That’s crazy! What’s even crazier is that I want to go back to the hospital. Doctor Lily is right, if I’ve spent two days there and not even realised it because I was doing so well, then obviously that’s the place for me. I hope they let me go back. I think Dr Balkan is making the decision.

Entry 48

A squirrel came! A squirrel!!!!

I have to make a move from this room. I don’t know where. I don’t know how. But I have to take the first step. Yet the idea of being killed before I can do what I need to do made me question that need. So… I asked for a sign. I opened the window and I said if any animal comes into my room it is a sign that I should just get out, follow my nose, and see where I end up.

I waited and waited. It’s still cold outside. I was starting to feel the cold. Nothing came in. I even left some of my bread on the plate near the window, nothing. There are no insects flying about. But I was hoping a pigeon or a sparrow might come.

Just as I was thinking ‘Okay, going out is not an option’, feeling like all hope is gone, a squirrel came in. I sat on my bed. It hopped through the window, took the bigger piece of the bread, and then hopped out. I swear! A squirrel.

If Ayla was here she’d say that that’s not just a sign that I should get out, it’s a sign that I will achieve it all. So, I’ll be going out. No idea where or how…

A squirrel! My animal. I love it!

Entry 47

These are all great things I’m doing, but if someone survived, how are they going to find me in this hospital? I have left my name with some organisation that connects people, but I need to get out. I just don’t know how or where. I don’t know if it’s a good idea.

The point is, if those who killed my family find out I survived, they will come after me. I can’t have that, because I need to kill them. And! I need to learn to use a gun, but I could use my knowledge of poisonous mushrooms to start the process. I know all the mushrooms no human should eat. I know where to get them. And I know how to give it to those who need to die.

So, I have two categories: 1. Find out who else has survived. 2. Kill those who murdered my family.

I need to get both of these done without too much fuss because the last thing I’d want is for someone to come after me to finish the job. I have to finish the job first.

Entry 46

Our parents had the assumption that we were always both to blame. And it was better to play along with that assumption than to fight it, because when we played along, our punishments were smaller. So Ayla and I made a pact to always accept the blame.

Dance through the punishment! – that’s what we called it. We’d team up and apologise. Once, we were grounded for only a week, and we thought we’d be grounded for at least a month if not three. When we knew we’d be punished, we just both said that we were both at fault.

I got caught that one and only time I had a cigarette in my mouth. Of course I got caught, huge family, lots of friends and neighbours, small town. Someone saw me and told my dad. Ayla was nowhere near me. She was returning our books to the library. But our parents acted like we were both hiding behind the school, smoking. We were in our room, grounded for a month, when Ayla said “Taking the blame is becoming a creative process…” She had to imagine who was there and where we were, because some questions were directed at her: “Did you just follow that no good Davor?” my dad asked Ayla.

I tried to gesture that Davor was there, but he came later, I did not follow him. If anything, he followed me. She didn’t get it, she just nodded.

I took blame for her as well… She was caught with grandma’s pearls – our mother’s most valuable possession. The idiot thought she could wear them outside, and then she’d take them off and hide them in her bag. Well, they broke in her bag. Making it sound like I was wearing them as well was a comedy show.

Thoughts of Ayla are heavy. Even happy ones feel like a fire in my chest. I really miss her.

Entry 45

I’ve remembered the bad thing that happened the night Ayla and I had to climb the mountain through the snow, and we took a ‘little’ break.

We noticed the snow sparkling blue in the distance. We knew it was a police snowmobile, but it had nothing to do with us. We just went on our merry way, making our snowman, dancing through the snowflakes, laughing. Until! The blue light came up to us. The police officer got off his vehicle and said “Are you Alma and Ayla?”

I looked at Ayla and asked her: “why does he know our names?”

Ayla shrugged.

Mum and dad freaked out when we didn’t come home.

Driving up that mountain during snow fall is dangerous, driving up the mountain at night while snow is falling is suicidal. Yet Grandpa still did it. He came to the house while mum was listing all the bad things that could have happened: wild boar, wolves, bears, falls, hitting a stone, hitting a tree, breaking legs, arms, necks, backs – it was a long list.

We were grounded for six months. It was bad back then, not so bad now. It’s kind-a funny now.

Entry 44

95 members so far. I know there are more. My family is huge. When little Sara was born, Cousin Iris said the hospital asked her to tell the family to organise their visits better. It was like a joke. Iris is one of those ‘can do’ women. She’s an architect by profession, but she’s most proud of her kids. She’s eighteen years older than me. Sara’s her fifth child. She loves to cook – always a feast at her house. And she’s always been a bit of a favourite in the family, all us girls should be like her; aunt Milly’s only daughter. Aunt Milly has three sons: Dean, Amir, and Timmo.

All these people. All these memories. A rich and eventful life. Everyone brings something with them. Nobody is perfect. Like my cousin Meho used to say: Nothing’s perfect and that’s perfect for me. And I’m so glad I’m writing it all down. It is a mess. Probably bigger mess than it should be, but at least I’m getting it down. Some of them have to be alive still. It’s just not possible that I’m the only survivor. It’s not possible. And some day I will be with them again, and we will read these notebooks together, and laugh. That’s what life is all about, after all. People we make our memories with.

Entry 43

I went from being a fanatical reader to being a fanatical writer. I’ve filled in two notebooks already, working on my third. My memory isn’t all that clear and I keep having to cross out stuff, or add stuff, it’s a bit of a mess now, but I’ll sort it out. Plus, I think this is normal. No one remembers everything about everyone. We forget stuff.

My cousin Nadia, the piano player, I hope she survived. She’s ten years older than me, and she always took my side. She’s one of those soft-spoken, always smiling type people.

Her sister Nelly, a journalist, eight years older than me, used to say “Nadia will be here any moment, so now you can do whatever you want.” Then she’d smile and take out her little notepad and pen. She jotted down everything. She got me my first camera. Well, joint gift from her whole family. Wait, I need to add that to the other notebook.

Entry 42

Dearest mother, I need you to tell me how to do this. I don’t know. What am I supposed to be doing?

I know if you’ve survived, this would be too painful, but we’d be here for each other.

If you’ve survived?

Wait, I don’t know who survived?!?! I am such an idiot. I can’t organised funerals before I know for certain that the person is dead. That would be vicious. And, someone else must have survived, but I don’t know who.

And I’ll take anyone.

If I had a choice, it would be Ayla. Sorry mum. I love you, but I think if you had to choose between you or Ayla you would have chosen her. So would dad, and grandpa, and grandma… And I think everyone else would understand my choice.

But I’ll take anyone. Annoying, obnoxious Uncle Ned who was only ever invited to family events because it would be horrible not to invite him, I’ll take him. I don’t even care what state he’s in. If he’s drooling and can’t move, I’ll take care of him.

That’s what I should do. I should write about them not as if they were dead, but as if they too survived. As if they might come back to me.

I need another notebook.

Entry 41

Latest book Sid brought me is a local story, full of dialogue.

“That’s what I’m missing,” I said to Sid pointing at the book. “I miss dialogues. I miss people. Going out. Do you know what my biggest problem was?”

Sid looked at me with those blue eyes that she has, yet hardly ever gets to enjoy. It’s such a shame that people can’t see into their own eyes. After all, if eyes are a window to our soul, people should be able to look into their own eyes to see their soul, for better or worse. Or maybe our eyes are not a window to the soul but a window from the soul. I can only catch a glimpse of the amazing world inside of her, the world she calls home? 

“I was the only one in my family who didn’t know what she was going to do with her life.”

I recalled the memories that came back to me like little pieces of a puzzle I’m supposed to put together.

“Me too…” Sid whispered leaning towards me. “And then the war started…” she shrugged, “and here I am. I’m going to be a nurse.”

“So this just came up?”

“Silver lining, as they say,” her face twisted slightly into something between a cringe and a smile. “And you will find your way too. You’ll be like a phoenix, rising to the sun, unafraid of the heat.”

The expectation is both frightening and exciting. Can I live to be a phoenix? If Sid thinks I can, maybe I can????

Entry 40

I don’t know how to survive this pain. It’s not even pain, it’s… It’s, anguish! When you have pain on your body, you squeeze it or rub it or something and it gets better at least for a while. I can’t… This is inside. It hurts in one place yet it hurts everywhere. It hurts to breathe. Water causes pain like flames. Why didn’t the sky open up and rain on the flames, put them out. Why didn’t God intervene? How could my family be dead?

And what the fuck am I supposed to do about their funerals?

Entry 39

Ayla!!! Aylaaaaa! Please come back. I can’t do this without you. Please. I’ll do anything. We don’t ever have to watch TV ever again. And if we do, you can always, always, always choose what we watch. ALWAYS!

You can always be the first one to the bathroom and the wardrobe. I will wear only what you let me wear, and that includes all the hair-clips. You can choose first, and even if you change your mind and want something I’ve already put on, I will let you have it.

If someone gives me something that you like more than what they gave you, I will let you keep both gifts. Just come back.

I swear, I swear to you I will ALWAYS keep my side of the room as tidy as your side. In fact, you can have the whole room, I’ll sleep in the shed. I don’t care, just come back. Please, come back.

I will NEVER ever talk you into anything ever again. We will do things you want to do. And only what you want to do and when you want to do it.

Please come back!

Entry 38

By the time Sid came back I was sobbing. I tried to keep writing in the diary, but the hand just couldn’t hold the pen. I realised that as the only survivor I had a duty to my loved ones, a duty beyond revenge and justice for the way their lives ended.

“They don’t have a grave, they haven’t even had a funeral!” I said through tears.

She started crying too. “It’s okay,” she said softly, “I don’t think it matters for the dead.”

I looked up at her.

“I think the funerals are really for the living,” she explained. “We need those. I think the dead are with God, and God judges them by their deeds not ours.”

She was making sense. Why would God punish my family for the deeds of anyone else including me?

“And I have thought about it,” she went on, “you know our national heritage are those ancient grave stones that are decorated with messages we no longer understand?”

I nodded. She was talking about stecak. We’ve made a trip to them many times. My mother always takes flowers. She insists on honouring the dead.

“What if those messages say that those are graves for the bodies without one?”

I frowned. A grave without a body, for a body without a grave. I was starting to really like the idea there and then. Now, I love the idea. There is something so timeless about it. And I like the idea of timeless.

“So, when you need to visit your family, remember them, you could borrow those graves? For all you know, one of your ancestors might have made them. And they are all together now in the afterlife.”

“You think they’re all together?” I felt a smile.

“One hundred percent, I have no doubt,” she placed her hand on her heart. “And, one day you will join them, just not yet. You have a lot to do here.”

I genuinely smiled at the thought of being reunited with my loved ones. “And you will come to visit us?”

“You better believe it. If your house in the afterlife is better than mine, I’m gona be round all the time,” she nodded.

“And I could organise a funeral… Couldn’t I?”

“Of course. And anything you need, you know I’m right here. I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to do a one by one type funeral. We will organise as many events as you want.”

Entry 37

I wanted to question Sid’s motives for the choice of books she brought me, but I knew she’d pretend like she had nothing to do with it, she was just bringing me what she had at home.

We started talking about different authors. One moment we were talking about best books, and the next thing I knew I said: “How long have I been here?”

I expected her to freak out at the question, so when she smiled I was shocked.

“Finally!” she breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s the question we’ve been waiting for.”

“What? Why?”

“Because it shows you are accepting the idea of time, of future. And you do have a future.”

Future? It’s such a strange idea…

“Almost ten months,” she said.

Ten months? I couldn’t grasp the thought. Ten months?

Sid glanced at the clock hanging on my wall like some reminder or aid, and she said “I have to see another patient really quickly, but I’ll be right back. I don’t want to miss our beautiful phoenix rising from the ashes.”

I frowned in confusion. Phoenix? Our? What the fuck was that?

“Well,” she smiled as she was walking out the door, “still a little dusty, but getting there.”

Her proud smile lingered with me. Am I a phoenix? I know I’m a waterfall, have I also become a phoenix? It kind of makes sense in more ways than one. I literally came out of ashes. Still don’t remember how, I’m still seeing the fucking boots all over the place, but I will. I will remember the faces in those boots. They will all come back to me… 

Ten months? It took me ten months to reach this point? That’s almost a year!

Of course it’s been a few months. The weather went from mild, to hot, to mild, to falling leaves, to snow, and it’s cold now but there’s no snow, it’s gloomy.

Breathe!!!! It’s okay!

Ten months? We’ve had our seventeenth birthday. Or, I have… Ayla… Oh God! No! She has as well, I just don’t know where. But, that’s okay, there’ll be many more birthdays.

Ten months?! Have they been dead for ten months? And! Who is dead and who isn’t?

No! That can’t be right?

Entry 36

The moment she brought the books, I knew she had a plan. But I went with the flow and I’m glad I did.

The titles of the books are enough of a clue:

Heart of Darkness, Dead Souls, Tales of Horror, The Lost World, Dead Men Tell No Tales, Crime and Punishment, Last of the Mohicans, and… My favourite: The Art of War!

I’m not kidding, those are the books she brought me.

I’ve read them all. And, I must admit, I feel a change. I’m not facing something no one has ever heard of, but I do know I want my story to be different… I need to work on the ‘how’?

I’m trying to stay away from memories, they hurt too much. It’s all gone. Nothing like those memories will ever happen again. But then, maybe…

I will also regain my love for boots. Sid brought me some green ones. I will wear them, I just need a little time.

Plus, I think Sid’s favourite colour is green. About 80% of the stuff she gave me is green. Or, she used to like green, but she doesn’t any more. I’ve only ever seen her in her nurses’ uniform – all white!

Entry 35

Riches I hold in light esteem,

   And Love I laugh to scorn;

And lust of fame was but a dream,

   That vanished with the morn:

And if I pray, the only prayer

   That moves my lips for me

Is, "Leave the heart that now I bear,

   And give me liberty!"

Yes, as my swift days near their goal:

   ’Tis all that I implore;

In life and death a chainless soul,

   With courage to endure.

The Old Stoic by Emily Brontë (1818 – 1848)

She didn’t go through this, yet she said it for me. How?

I still want revenge.

They murdered my whole family. The boots. I keep seeing them and it turns my stomach. It’s such a simple, innocent, everyday item that they’ve made me hate. I will not hate boots. Boots are not to blame. It’s the animals in the boots. I will hunt them down like they deserve to be hunted. My time will come. I’ll never give up.

I still need to find a way to… To do what? Live? It’s not enough! I can’t just live, yet even living is a challenge. I have to do more than live?

Entry 34

Getting a little bit suspicious about the books Sid is bringing me. I am very grateful for the books. Glancing at the shelf gives me a sense of accomplishment. But…

Well… at first it was all the cosy reads like Jane Austin, sprinkled with few other Brits, then Germans, then Russians… Now she brought me Dante, all three: Inferno, Purgatory, and Paradise.

Entry 33

Why can’t we measure time in books?

That was five books ago – meaning, I’ve received a considerable amount of new information since then, so I’m a little fuzzy on the details of what you want me to remember.

That was 20 books ago, meaning I’ve had a lot of new info, characters, places, and stories since then, please refresh my memory.  

That was 50 books ago – oy, you’re lucky I remember you at all.

Entry 32

In my defence, the books I’m reading now are too engaging. Woman in White is the only book Ayla and I had to have a copy each.

The Idiot is Dostoyevsky’s best work as far as I’m concerned.

AND! How did I never compare Madam Bovary and Don Quixote before?

I missed the clock. The idea of the clock did not cross my mind. While I think I have a valid excuse, I must do better. Doctor Lily shouldn’t be kept waiting.

Entry 31

“Why do you think we left a clock in your room?” Doctor Lily asked me at one of my appointments.

Truth be told, I hadn’t really noticed the clock. Now that I look at it, it is ticking loudly.

Apparently I’m supposed to keep an eye on it and make it to my appointments on my own without being told that it’s time. I will try to remember that.

I also need to remember to go to sleep. I went from sleeping all the time, to not sleeping at all. Replaced one unhealthy habit with another. That’s what she said.

I’m still into reading, big time. But I get these flashes of burning… Grandpa has the best library. It must have burnt… I shouldn’t think about that. Books can be replaced.

Entry 30

I’ve been reading like my oxygen depends on it. I can’t stop. Sid was right, the books feel like home. She has brought a piece of my past back to life. These books are exactly the same as the ones I read before…

Were these books always this great? I don’t think they were. I liked reading, I adore it now. The only problem is that I keep being interrupted. I still see Doctor Lily on daily basis, but I go to her office when a nurse barges in to tell me it’s time.

Entry 29

“If you go, I’m coming with you,” Sid said, her blue eyes serious. “You can’t do it on your own. You’ve only been out once. You need me!”

I didn’t expect her to respond like that. I only told her that I intend to leave, to steal a gun, and to look for the men who killed my family, because she’s a friend. She’s my cousin Amina. She deserves to know.

I told her I’m sure I’ll remember when I go back to my grandfather’s house. If I was to see men there, I’m sure my memory would return. I want to kill them all.

“You can’t come with me,” I shook my head.

“Why not?”

“You want to get killed? Can you imagine what that would do to your family?”

“Do you want to get killed?” She replied.

“Of course not,” I said, thinking how I don’t really care. I had to kill them. If I ended up being killed, so be it.

“Forget the tragedy! Focus on your miraculous survival…” Sid took my hands. “You have to stay alive just to spite them. You are their failure. If you get killed, they’ve won. They will have no failure.”

I hadn’t thought of it that way. I can’t let them kill me.

I have to live? But… I don’t know how to live. I need to die. And I need to die honourably.

Oh God!

“You don’t understand!” I shouted at Sid, snatching my hands back, pacing about the room. “I can’t live.”

“Yes you can!” She said in a voice I didn’t think she had; a voice that sounded so strong it shook me. “Yes, you can.” She repeated softer. “You can…” her voice became a whisper.

My eyes felt like they were on fire, yet there were no tears to put out the flames. I sat on the bed.

Sid sat next to me. “You deserve justice in whatever form you think best,” she kept her eyes on mine, “and I will do anything to help you. ANYTHING! But I think we need to be smart about this.”

I watched her become my guardian angel once again. Now she seemed more like my cousin Nadia. Nadia was always on my side. She was soft too. Played the piano? Maybe… I’m not sure.

“In my view,” Sid carried on, “we need to get your head sorted out first. And! I’ve had an idea for a while… It might be completely stupid, but it might not…”

She paused and I was getting annoyed. “I like stupid ideas,” I said. Something about that sentence felt so true, it was calming.

“Books?” she said slowly, carefully, cringing at the word. “You said you like books, that your family had a lot of books, well… Books are all the same. I have books. If I bring you mine, maybe that will make you feel like a little part of your past is still alive. Is that stupid?”

“No…” I couldn’t take my eyes off her. That was the best idea I have ever heard.

“And, maybe we could bring you a desk, some shelves, I could even bring you some normal clothes…”

Normal clothes? I looked at myself. All in white.

“I can wash them…” she said. “Hospital has a white policy because it’s easiest to wash.” She explained as if she read my mind and knew I was confused.

Her kindness brought back hope I thought was dead. Maybe a little hope, but hope all the same. I mean, she doesn’t even have to be here, let alone worry about me like this, share my pain like this. I have no choice. This pain is my pain and I can’t get away from it, but she can. Yet she chooses to stay with me. I wonder if I would have done that for someone?

I didn’t really think my plan all the way through, did I? You can’t just go and murder a bunch of people. For one, they will fight back. It’s a human rule. Heck, even animals fight for their lives.

To achieve my goal, I need to work on me first.

Entry 28

My mind is trying to trivialise what I know to be true now. It keeps bringing up some memories of a life they killed. The laughter is now tainted with blood. There is no going back. There is no fixing this.

They killed my family. I want revenge.

Entry 27

If you cause death, you should expect death to come after you. I will be their death. I will make them suffer. That’s why I’ve survived. My family is not destined to be an easy target of some devil reincarnated. My family will not go down just like that.

I will become death!

Entry 26

Why was I the only one in the basement?

They came in… I hear thumping on the ceiling, they’re moving into the house. Gun shot.

“NO!!!!” multiple voices from the house. Someone’s been shot.

And then no sounds. I hear nothing else. Was my hearing the first one to abandon me?

I want to get out, I want to go back up, but I can’t find the door.

I’m shaking. I’m on the floor.

And then somehow I’m up on the wardrobe, hiding, just peeping out of the small window near the ceiling, looking at the men around the house, hundreds of them. I could see their feet. I sneaked a few glances up, but I can’t see what I saw, I see myself doing it. Maybe Ayla was with me? But, if she was, where is she now?

Fire! I know the house is on fire.

Blank… Nothing more.

Next thing I know I’m talking to Doctor Lily. I know it wasn’t our first conversation.

How can I fill in the blanks?

Oh shit… I’m so stupid. Grandpa’s room is soundproof, of course I didn’t hear anything. Yet I did hear footsteps at first, so I must have been in the basement when they came in, and then I went into Grandpa’s room. And once there, all sound was cut off.

Okay, that’s one possibility. That makes sense.

Did I want to get out through the window?

Oh, I don’t know…

Entry 25

I want them dead! I want them ALL dead! I want to be the one to end their lives. I WANT TO KILL THEM ALL!!!! It’s the only thought that soothes me.  

The boots! Death is too good for him. He must suffer. He must feel the pain I feel. I know he gave the orders. I know he’s responsible the most.

They are all responsible. They all must die. And I must be the one to kill them!

Entry 24

My head and my heart lost connection with one another in the basement of my grandfather’s house. I was in his space – a spacious area in the corner of the basement, walled off, soundproofed so he can get away from it all. We were never allowed down there.

I saw myself sitting on top of the wardrobe, near the little window that looks out to the garden, but you can only see the grass.

There were feet. Some in trainers, some in boots. I know I saw more than just feet... One of the boots had a green army uniform on. He was the main guy. I know I saw him, but I can’t bring it back.

The house above me burned.

It was hot.

I don’t remember smoke.

There were no sounds. Literally not one sound. I don’t remember hearing a thing.

The feet in the window moved further away from the house.

It all went black. 

I don’t know how I got there. I don’t know how I left the basement. I just know we were all at Grandpa’s house. My whole family was there. Everyone I love was there. They were all in that house. My grandfather’s house. The house that the feet set on fire.

Entry 23

NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! 

Arrrrrgh!

No! That cannot be a memory!

NO!

Oh God! NO!

Entry 22

I keep getting more and more snipes of my life.

Every single one of them features Ayla. Sometimes, even I’m confused if I’m seeing her or myself. Like in a dream. We can see ourselves in a dream. That’s what these memories are starting to feel like – a dream.

One minute we’re little, chasing all sort of bugs. Another minute we’re sitting in a café, chatting over a cup and a cake.

We’ve travelled, we’ve had guests. We’ve danced, and played. We’ve sailed and ridden horses. We’ve cooked and cleaned.

Music, a lot of music.

BUT! What happened to it all?!

Entry 21

We’re at war!

Wars = murder!

Enemy kills those they fear the most first, then they kill all!

***

“Was my family targeted?” I said to Doctor Lily, laying on her sofa, my eyes fixed on the ceiling, bracing myself for the worst response because if I faint she’ll never tell me the truth.

“Why do you ask that?”

I sat up. “Because we’re at war. My family is one of the most powerful families in this country.”

She just stared at me like she does.

“You either know, or that’s not what happened,” I snapped.

She frowned as if confused.

“Newspapers would have written about it!” I almost screamed at her. “So did you read about my family or not?”

Her eyes closed tightly as the sound of her swallowing vibrated through the space.

“NO!” I shook my head.

“We don’t know anything…” She came over and sat next to me taking my hand. “Newspapers write all kinds of stuff.”

“What did they write?” no matter how hard I tried to sound normal, my voice came out shaky and weak.  

“That doesn’t matter. Only you know. And you need to remember.”

“Why? WHY!”

“Because you survived,” her eyes sparkled, as she tried to smile but failed. “It’s not just about you. Think about what you represent.”

What do I represent?

What do I need to remember?

It’s the break-in! Grandpa’s house… Oh come on, remember already, you stupid head!

Entry 20

I went outside today… It’s all good.

Well… Hold on… There’s a war going on. So, obviously, that’s not good. Except, in my head, that’s not too bad either.

Oh God! That doesn’t make any sense. These contradictions are starting to piss me off.

I was getting really tired of the popcorn sound. I don’t remember if I thought about it, but at one point I walked out of my room to investigate. The long corridor outside my door was barely lit, completely silent, a little eerie, except for the popcorn sound that gave it life.

To the right of my room is the reception and entrance to the building, to my left just doors. I heard the sound coming from my left. I walked that way. Three doors from my door I noticed a little passage. The sound was coming from that direction. I could see the fire exit at the end of the passage.

Leaning on the long bar across the door was automatic, I put no thought into it. The door was open and I walked out.

It was pitch black. The popcorn sound was considerably louder. My eyes adjusted to the dark and I could see steps, just a few of them between some shrubbery. I went up the steps to an open green area. It was the park I could see through my window. And then popcorn sound. I looked up. A line of fireflies flew through the air with incredible speed.

I’ve never seen it in real life, but I’ve seen it on TV – BTW, I completely forgot about TV. I loved that box, but Ayla didn’t so I never got to watch it for as long as I wanted.

It’s not popcorn, it’s gunfire. Close enough to be heard, far enough to pose no danger.

I started thinking about the fireworks I had heard, and just as I realised those must have been bombs, two nurses showed up in the park.

“Are we at war?” I said to them.

One of them took my arm by the elbow, while the other waved at her. I should know their names… REMEMBER! Ask the nurses’ names!!!!!

The second nurse looked at me and silently nodded.

I nodded back.

Strange sense of relief washed over me as I walked back to my room, nurses following me.

We’re at war.

Who could we be at war with? Our whole lives are about peace and prosperity.

What is a war? I know it. It’s bad. Why do I feel relieved to know it?!

Entry 19

I have another sentence that must mean something because it shakes my core.

Why are you rushing?

I was talking to Doctor Lily and I was trying to get her to tell me about the day I came to the hospital. She refused a few times, told me I need to remember on my own, and then she said “Why are you rushing?”

She didn’t notice that the sentence shook me, which is good. I’m getting better.

Back in my room I remembered Grandpa.

“Alma, everyone is like a river. Some are narrow, some wide, some shallow, some deep, some curvy, some straight, some flow to another river, some flow to a sea, some break the mountains, some dive under a hill, but you… You are my waterfall.”

That’s me. That’s who I am. I am a waterfall. I’ve never been good at waiting, at being patient. I’m not afraid to fall.

If feels so settling to know this.

I am a waterfall.

I am a waterfall.

I am a waterfall.

Entry 18

Someone broke in. Or my mind is starting to play tricks on me.

No, it was…

Our house, or Grandpa’s house… Grandpa’s house I think. It was like the stream at the foot of his garden flooded the whole house.

That’s what happened. I just can’t separate distant memories from the fresh ones, the ones that matter. The ones that could tell me what happened to me.

I can see the stream and Ayla and I walking in it. I can see summer days, and then a flush of danger, but it’s not visible. It’s like lightening, and then goes back to some random memory of snow, or harvest, or collecting lady bugs. One moment I see butterflies, the next moment there are dark clouds and I’m alone, and then back to some normal memory that’s a little more than a flash.

Who would dare to break into my grandfather’s house?

Entry 17

I remembered that Amina couldn’t keep a secret to save her life. So, I figured maybe Sid is the same way.

As soon as she walked into the room I started talking. I was telling her about my memories coming back, she responded in almost the same way doctor Lily did, how that’s a great sign.

I must admit, the fog in my head is easing. There’s more clarity. I don’t feel so lost, though I am still lost. But that’s fine. Golden rule: As long as there’s improvement, be happy – BTW, I really wish I knew who told me this. I know someone said it to me, but I just can’t remember.

I frightened poor Sid half to death when I asked her to tell me everything she knows about me.

“What makes you think I know anything?” her eyes wide open, she sat on the bed next to me.

“You were here when I came, or did someone bring me in? I don’t think I’ve ever been here before, so how could I find my own way?”

Her eyes scattered about the room “I don’t…” she shakes her head. “It’s not a good idea. Doctor Lily is risking her career on you.” Her hands cover her mouth and she jumps up. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

I smile “Why?” I pat the bed to invite her to sit back down. She does.

“I’m not allowed to tell you things, you have to remember. Doctor Lily is convinced that that’s the only way you won’t be… I mean… The only way…”

“Okay, part of my therapy is to let me remember.”

“If I thought I could help you, I swear I would tell you all I know even if they kicked me out. But Doctor Lily is really good, and she’s taken personal interest in you. She said she’s never met someone who in their hysterics could calculate 14 times 238, yet couldn’t recall who wrote Romeo and Juliet. I’m only telling you this because I think information like that might help. She thinks you have a really special mind, and you need to trust that too.” She got up again.

I didn’t have the heart to ask anything more. Clearly this was not ease for her.

“It’s alright… I get it. I need to remember on my own.”

She smiled.

“Can you at least tell me what are the constant fireworks about. And who is making popcorn in this place all the time?”

I swear she took a step back, look of shock and horror on her soft face.

“That’s not about me…” I tried to explain. Surely she can tell me about the stuff that’s going on around us? Obviously not, since she stood frozen. “I’m sorry, I thought…” and then the sound of popcorn again. I raised my finger, “Hear it?”

She nods, the look of horror still on her face. “It’s not popcorn,” she whispers. “I have to go.” She made her way to the door, slowly, as if pondering her decision. “I would do anything to help you. I need you to know that.” She said without looking at me, opened the door only enough to squeeze her slender body through, and then closed it.

The sound of popcorn went on and I kept wondering what it was… Why couldn’t Sid tell me?

Entry 16

My cousin Amina! How did I not figure it out sooner? Sid always looked kind of familiar, but what the fuck do I know. I just liked how she made me feel comfortable, nice. I guess I thought it’s because she’s here all the time. And always looking at me with those hopeful eyes. Of all the nurses that come and go, Sid is special. Now I know why. She’s just like my cousin Amina.

Not in the way they look, though they both have blond hair and blue eyes, but in their aura. They’re identical. I wish I had my camera… Camera! I loved taking photos.

I wonder if photos are all I’ll have from now?

I wonder if Sid has a dog. Amina had this fluffy little white thing she called Cloud. She took it with her everywhere.

Entry 15

“I am not carrying my skis, they’re carrying me,” I say to Ayla.

We’re on a slope, heading towards woods. It’s dark, but the snow is glistening in the moonlight so brightly, everything is visible.

She’s got her skis on her shoulder, digging the tips of her ski boots into the snow. I’m going up the slop with my skis on my feet, V-shape print in the snow behind me.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” she shakes her head. “I knew the lift was off for the day, yet I still went down the slope with you. I knew we wouldn’t be able to talk him into turning the lift back on, yet…”

“Well,” I interrupt raising a hand carefully so the stick doesn’t hit me or her, “we don’t know that, he already left by the time we got to the bottom. AND! May I remind you that it took us so long to get down because you kept arguing…”

“Of course I kept arguing, I knew it was a bad idea!” she interrupts, her breathing heavy. “Why was I so stupid?”

“Because you love me, and love makes us stupid,” I smile.

She shakes her head and says “It’ll take us forever to get to the house.”

At some point we stopped to make a snowman. We were laughing. The sky was full of stars.

We’ve made hundreds of snowmen in our life but that one was different. Deep inside of me, I know…

There’s no one and nothing else around. It’s just the two of us making a message for our snowman to hold – A and A were here…

Huge, fluffy snowflakes are dancing through the air.

“People are like snowflakes,” she says. “Each one different, precious, fragile, and beautiful.”

“And made of water…”

“Don’t ruin my point!” She’s angry again. I smile again.

Something bad happened later, I can’t remember what… We laughed and laughed. Building this huge snowman to hold our sign.

Entry 14

Sunset on a beach… It’s a lake; green, calm, glistening in auburn light.

Ayla and I are examining the stones we collected.

Dad and uncle Fatih are arguing over a barbeque.

“You’re both stupid,” Uncle Ned says.

Uncle Ned…

“Hard to believe Grandpa and Uncle Ned are brothers,” Ayla’s voice. 

We’re older. Mum is here. Our kitchen. Plums… We’re making jam.

“Every family has an Uncle Ned,” Mum smiles while pouring boiling water into empty jars. Steam is escaping the glass containers that sparkle. Golden leaves and sun are in the window.

I’m steering the bubbling purple mass on the stove. Huge wooden spoon in my hand. “I’m not sure they do,” I glance back at mum with a smile.

“If someone thinks their family doesn’t have an uncle Ned, it’s probably because they’re uncle Ned.”

All three of us are laughing.

“To make matters worse,” mum carries on, “the other extreme means the same thing; if you think everyone in your family is uncle Ned, that also means you are uncle Ned.”

What’s wrong with uncle Ned?

Entry 13

I’m remembering the past with more clarity than I ever thought possible, even though it’s just snippets. But it feels like I’m still there.

New Year’s Eve. Everyone is at our house. There’s glitter and lights everywhere. It smells like cinnamon, apples, cloves and coffee. Ayla and I were about seven. Mum let us put on some lipstick. We were so proud of ourselves. We felt all grown up. We made a pact to stay up until midnight. I can’t remember if we did. I feel like we didn’t.

I think, I’m not sure, but I think we always celebrated New Year’s together, as a whole family. Each year in a different house…

Entry 12

I’m not crazy, I’m grieving.

I don’t have negative thoughts, I’m objecting to the truth, the reality.

My amnesia is a shield.

Deep down I know the truth, I just… I don’t know it! When I try to remember I feel dizzy. But the feeling, the hard press on my chest, that’s the voice of truth. My heart knows it, but my head is blocked away from it. It’s like there’s a wall between my heart and my head.

My heart and my head are not communicating. The spilt between them is the problem. I have to bring my heart and my head together again. They need to work together.

How? Why? What kind of truth could do this to me?

Entry 11

A nurse came and said doctor Lily called me to her office. That’s was weird. She always came to see me. I didn’t even know where to go.

Climbing up the stairs made my heart race. It was almost funny. My legs were shaking yet I felt excited. It’s just a boring, ordinary staircase, one of those walled from all sides. It was well lit, white walls, nothing on them.

Doctor Lily’s office is on the second floor, room 222. Left and left again. I found it.

“Why am I here?” I said as soon as I sat down on the chair.

She walked from behind her desk and sat on the other chair next to me. “Why do you think?”

“Because I’m having very negative thoughts about the world?”

She nodded “What kind of thoughts?”

“That everyone is dead, that everyone will die, that I should be dead…” Her face didn’t change, the look in her eyes as stern as any I have ever seen.

Clearly she expected me to say more. I took a deep breath “I don’t want to die. I’m not suicidal or anything, I just… I think it would really help if you’d let me see my family. At least my mum, or dad, or my sister.”

Doctor Lily scratched her chin “Could I stop them from seeing you?”

It felt like a bomb exploded in my head. I had a million thoughts. Ayla would have sneaked in. I’m on the ground floor. She could have come to my window. We’ve climbed walls and fences since we were five years old.

There is no way anyone could have stopped my dad from coming to see me. I would have heard him shouting at the reception, he would have torn his way to me.

There are more people in my family than in this whole hospital.

I sat there, unable to speak. Doctor Lily kept her eyes on me.

“What happened to me?” I whispered.

“You have to remember,” she frowned, her eyes sparkling. “I can only give you time and support.”

I left her office on wobbly knees. I couldn’t even make it down the stairs. I had to sit and rest. A nurse walking by helped me back to my room.

I slept again.

Entry 10

I haven’t slept at all last night. For the first time since I got here, I couldn’t sleep. I’ve slept days and nights, but last night, not a wink. I sat by the window, thinking. I love the window. At first I was a little afraid of it, but now I adore it. This is why I think I’m getting better.

I don’t sleep constantly anymore.

I am realising I have a problem.

My head doesn’t feel so empty anymore – this sentence doesn’t make sense even to me, but it’s the best I’ve got. I don’t know how to write a diary. I’ve never done this is my life. Why would I? I have a twin sister who remembers EVERYTHING! Ayla is sometimes annoying with how well she remembers. I don’t have monologues. I have dialogues. That’s what I’m good at. Writing a diary is like talking to yourself. In fact, it’s worse than that. Being unable to write a diary is not a sign of a problem.

And I know, I can write Ayla’s name, but I can’t say it – this is an indication of something. She probably did something that hurt me… I don’t know.

And normal things freak me out. I get that’s a problem too. BUT! I love the window now. I was freaked out by the net on the window. Now, I love the view outside.

And the aroma of coffee! I know I fainted the first time I smelled it, but I love it now. I think I should try coffee??? Should I? I can still smell coffee. And it gives me positive feelings. I know I found the smell annoying at first, only because it was constant. Now, I like it. I even like that it’s constant.

So, yes, I still have a problem…

Truth be told, I don’t think I’m having bad feelings, I think I have amnesia. But surely writing in a diary is not going to help me remember. Talking to someone who was there will help me remember. Whatever happened, I can face it.

I need to see Doctor Lily.

Entry 9

Doctor Lily didn’t come to see me today. Nurses have been in and out all day, far more than usual, but no one has spoken to me. Considering what happened last night with Nurse Sid, I though the doc would be here first thing in the morning.

I hope she’s alright.

Arrgh! There I go again with bad thoughts. Of course she’s alright. She probably has other patients. Maybe I’m getting better, and that’s why she hasn’t been to see me?

I have to stop having these feelings that everyone is dead. And that everyone will die. And that we are all in danger.

Happy thoughts! Sunsets! Calm seas… Beautiful beaches, trees, flowers, butterflies…

Entry 8

Ayla will be here any day now. She’ll sort me out. I know she’ll come with like ten books on what might be wrong with me, and she’ll be like ‘You need to do this, and drink that, and go here, and…’ I’m sure she’s doing the research as I write this. She’s out there, going through everybody’s bookshelves, looking for a solution. She’s probably already spoken to ten different professionals.

And my mum, and grandpa, oy! I’m sure grandpa is in the fields collecting all kinds of plants to make my teas.

I can see Dad giving orders to everyone in the family and neighbourhood about how to speak to me, how to look at me, how not to look at me… I’m sure even cousin Belma isn’t excused. She’s probably given birth by now. I wonder what name they chose for the baby. She wanted something unique that no one in our family has. It is not easy to find such a name. We’re a big family.

Entry 7

I had to be sedated again.

I peeped behind the huge white curtain. It felt like someone kicked me in the chest. I started choking. A nurse rushed in, she screamed for the doctor.

Next thing I know I was shivering in the bed. The nurse was holding my hand. Her bright blue eyes sparkled as she moved her thumb slightly stroking my thumb.

“Could you open the curtain?” my voice barely made it out of my mouth.

She looked away “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Doctor Lily has gone home.”

I waited for her eyes to return to me.

We’re about the same age.

“There’s nothing behind the curtain, is there?” I asked.

“Just park. Trees mostly. If you look hard enough you can see the main hospital on the other side of the green.”

The main hospital?

Of course they won’t let me see my family when the sight of trees freaked me out. I have to get over this.

“Could you take a look?” I felt my head rising off the pillow.

She smiled and nodded, leaving my hand and moving silently toward the curtain.

Her face disappeared for a moment into the material hanging off the ceiling all the way to the floor.

Then her face appeared “It’s dark. There’s some lights in the distance, and barley visible shadows of branches and leaves.”

I had to see. The moment I moved to get out of the bed, the nurse rushed to me and grabbed my arms. She looked terrified.

I smiled to reassure her. She held me as if I needed help walking.

Face-to-face with the curtain she whispered “What did you see the last time?”

I paused to think. “Nothing,” I said. “I saw trees, and grass. Few benches along the paths.”

“Oh…” she frowned.

I shook my head “I don’t know why I freaked out, but I know I have to do this. If you want to leave…”

“No, I’m staying right here.” Her grip on my hand felt a little tighter. “Okay, it is dark, and there are shadows.” Her voice shaky but determined. “We are on the ground floor, but there’s a net across the whole window so nothing can get in.”

“Net?” My whole body vibrated.

“It’s just to protect from birds and insects. It’s not…”

My legs were moving on their own, away from the curtain.

“Do you want to take the net off?” blue eyes wide open, “I can rip it off. Would you like that?”

I couldn’t breathe.

“I’ll rip it off.” She moved effortlessly into the white material. The window squeaked as she opened it. Fresh air came in and pushed out the anxiety that filled the room. I could see her fist banging and then a loud thump.

“There you go. No more net. The net is on the floor, outside.” She waited for me to respond.

I don’t remember seeing the net. How could something I didn’t even see frighten me so much? But I must have seen it. Why can’t I remember seeing it?

“Maybe we should wait until the morning?” She pulled me gently back to the bed.

With my head resting on the pillow, and the fresh air that filled the room, I felt better than I had since I got here.

“Leave the window open,” I said to the blue eyes.

“Okay, but a bird might fly in. Sometimes they do. Don’t freak out. I’ll be right here. I’ll take care of it. Okay?”

I nodded and closed my eyes. “What’s your name?” I whispered.

Her lack of response made me open my eyes again.

“Call me Sid,” she smiled.

I might have some serious mental issues, but I’m not stupid. Call me Sid? What the fuck does that mean?

Her name tag was peeping out of her chest pocket. I sat up and pulled it out in one swift motion.

Ayla…

My hand shook as I placed the tag back into her pocket.

Entry 6

Did Ayla have a boyfriend? I had a flashback of her talking to some guy. We were in a café, it felt familiar… But I don’t like him. I don’t like the way she is when he’s around. Is she still with that guy? Maybe they’re married, or engaged?

What do I have to do to get these doctors to let me see my sister, or my mum, dad, someone? I know if I could talk to them I’d be better.

Something’s wrong with me, but keeping them away isn’t helping.

Unless…

No, no… It’s not possible.

Entry 5

Some sentences pop up in my mind and I can’t breathe. Sentences like: He’ll grow out of it; Don’t sit in Grandpa’s chair; What are you going to be when you grow up; I’ll tell mum – Ayla’s voice, always Ayla’s voice.

Coffee?! I can’t stop smelling it. It’s like buzzing in the ears except I have it in my nose. It’s constant. I get one-second flashes of all kinds of rooms, all kinds of houses; our house, aunt Jen’s house, aunt Milly’s house, even our neighbour Vera…

Houses, and people, and houses pop up in my mind like those foam balloons we used to blow as kids. Except these don’t just burst, they reappear in another place, and then I get flashes of various objects from those houses; a clock here, a picture there, a sofa, a lamp, a chair, wallpaper, even a light switch from my aunt Zena’s house. And laughter, talking, lots of voices, and music, and coffee, always coffee. All these images pop up randomly and it makes me so tired. I have to sleep.   

Entry 4

After I wrote that I went out to look for my therapist. It was the first time I left the white room. The smell of coffee at the end of the long hall made me scream. They had to give me some kind of injection. I’ve been sleeping since.

My head feels weird.

I can still smell coffee. I know it’s not real. This white room has no smell. Even I don’t smell. Did I ever smell?

Little Danny likes to sniff people. It’s a game to him. Uncle Frank gets so angry at him for calling out bad smelling feet.

Danny likes my mum’s hair.

“Ummm, roses,” he’d close his eyes after taking a deep whiff near mum’s head.

Roses? What do they smell like? I can’t remember. I can remember Danny creeping up behind mum as she sits on the sofa. He’d smell her hair and smile. I smelled her hair too. I liked it. But I can’t remember that aroma.

Aunt Jen would shake her head apologetically.

“He’ll grow out of it,” Grandpa says.

He’ll grow out of it?

Entry 3

I can’t live without them.

I can’t be alone.

The nightmares… Those are not nightmares, are they?

What happened to me?

Oh, I’m being stupid again. Sometimes I get these bad feelings. That must be why I’m here. I don’t remember how I came to the hospital, but I know I have a problem. When I try to remember I can’t, and then random memories will pop up out of nowhere.

Nothing happened to me. What could happen to me? I’m fine. It’s all fine. Or it will be. I just need to…

I remember when I was little, my uncle’s friend’s daughter had a problem. I don’t remember the details, maybe I never knew the details, but I know it was really scary for everyone for a while. They kept talking about her fits, and the need to be alone… They’d whisper ‘she’s always silent and depressed’. She’s fine now. Turned out she lacked some kind of mineral. Once they fixed her diet, she was normal again. I’m sure I’m going through something like that.

I need to focus on staying positive. Nothing happened to me. I’m fine. Maybe then they’ll let my family visit. Why won’t they let them visit?  

Entry 2

Dr Lily insists I should write anything, even if I call her stupid, she’s fine with that. I’ve tried to tell her that I can’t write, I’ve really tried over and over again, but she insists I write.

Anything…

I’m in a white room. Everything’s white. The walls, the door, the huge curtain, the floor, the bed, the bedding, the bedside table… That’s it. There’s nothing else here. Shouldn’t there be something else here?

I’m dressed in white.

This is not me.

Of course it’s not me.

Me?

Entry 1

I don’t know how to do this. Write a diary? What is that even about?

I open this notebook, look at the blank page, and the lines asking for words, but I don’t know what to write. So I close it and leave it on the bed.

But I have to write. My stupid therapists thinks this is what I have to do. She said “write anything”.

Fine.

I think my therapist is stupid.

There, how’s that for writing anything?

Prologue