Day 1
Day 1
I don't even know why I'm doing this; honestly, I see it as a total waste of time, but as long as it satisfies her. She gave me this journal yesterday and told me to write every day. 'Write what, exactly?' I asked.
No reply. I only received a raised, questionable eyebrow. How could I forget?
I grabbed her petite hand, placing it on my throat, and asked her yet again 'What do you want me to write?'
Abigail, my dear wife, just shrugged, a simple smile on her rosy lips 'Anything.' She said, 'just…write daily, will you?' She gave me a pleading smile – that smile that tinted the room with endless, jovial colors. That smile that never failed to cease the butterflies in my stomach.
I'm not a writer myself, but I couldn't say no. 'Alright.' I said, earning myself an ear-to-ear grin from my partner. –Abigail retrieved her hands before walking off, leaving me completely perplexed.
I don't even know why I'm doing this; honestly, I see it as a total waste of time, but as long as it satisfies her. She gave me this journal yesterday and told me to write every day. 'Write what, exactly?' I asked.
No reply. I only received a raised, questionable eyebrow. How could I forget?
I grabbed her petite hand, placing it on my throat, and asked her yet again 'What do you want me to write?'
Abigail, my dear wife, just shrugged, a simple smile on her rosy lips 'Anything.' She said, 'just…write daily, will you?' She gave me a pleading smile – that smile that tinted the room with endless, jovial colors. That smile that never failed to cease the butterflies in my stomach.
I'm not a writer myself, but I couldn't say no. 'Alright.' I said, earning myself an ear-to-ear grin from my partner. –Abigail retrieved her hands before walking off, leaving me completely perplexed.
Day 2
Second day… and I still don't know what to write. 'think of it as a diary', Abigail commented.
Right. Think of it as a diary. Easy.
…
What do you write in a diary? I've never had one before and I didn't think I'd ever have one. This is harder than I thought.
That day, I entered the living room, seeing Abigail sitting on the cobalt – her favorite color – couch; She was quietly reading a book, in which I recall, that was borrowed from her sister, Carla. I took a seat beside her and I immediately asked her 'Is this really necessary?'
Yet receiving no reply. Why do I keep forgetting?! I dig up a note and a pen from a drawer beside me, writing down my previous question, then shoved the paper in front of her topaz eyes, which immediately widened in surprise. Abigail quickly scanned the words, while miming the words under her breath.
Abigail rolled her eyes disappointingly 'Yes.'
'But why?!' I pouted. She hummed questionably. I write down the simple question then gave her the paper. She read the words with quick eyes, then abruptly casted me a heartbreaking gaze. My heart thumbed against my chest, as if blaming me for saddening my frail wife.
Abigail set aside the book 'I'm not asking you to write a suicide note, Simon' her voice honeyed with distress, 'I'm simply telling you to write what's on your mind, is that too much to ask?'
Yes.
'No.' I huffed, while shaking my head for her to understand.
'Alright then.' She said, ending the argument. In the corner my eyes, I saw a smirk of victory on her lips.
And then it hit me. Right. Puppy eyes. Drama queen…
Second day… and I still don't know what to write. 'think of it as a diary', Abigail commented.
Right. Think of it as a diary. Easy.
…
What do you write in a diary? I've never had one before and I didn't think I'd ever have one. This is harder than I thought.
That day, I entered the living room, seeing Abigail sitting on the cobalt – her favorite color – couch; She was quietly reading a book, in which I recall, that was borrowed from her sister, Carla. I took a seat beside her and I immediately asked her 'Is this really necessary?'
Yet receiving no reply. Why do I keep forgetting?! I dig up a note and a pen from a drawer beside me, writing down my previous question, then shoved the paper in front of her topaz eyes, which immediately widened in surprise. Abigail quickly scanned the words, while miming the words under her breath.
Abigail rolled her eyes disappointingly 'Yes.'
'But why?!' I pouted. She hummed questionably. I write down the simple question then gave her the paper. She read the words with quick eyes, then abruptly casted me a heartbreaking gaze. My heart thumbed against my chest, as if blaming me for saddening my frail wife.
Abigail set aside the book 'I'm not asking you to write a suicide note, Simon' her voice honeyed with distress, 'I'm simply telling you to write what's on your mind, is that too much to ask?'
Yes.
'No.' I huffed, while shaking my head for her to understand.
'Alright then.' She said, ending the argument. In the corner my eyes, I saw a smirk of victory on her lips.
And then it hit me. Right. Puppy eyes. Drama queen…
Day 3
Why did have to happen to her? Of all people, why her? It could've been me, it could've been Carla, but fate just had to brutalize Abigail.
Today, when I came back from work, I saw…nothing. Literally actually. The lights were off and it was utterly quiet. However, my eyes spot a dim light impending from the kitchen. I entered further and I hear soft sobs. I stood at the doorway of the kitchen to see my beloved Abigail, sitting on the counter, a pool of used tissues beneath her dangling feet.
Her face was hidden behind curtains of blonde hair, but I catch a tear sliding down her cheek and descended on her hand. And as if sensing my presence, her head shot up, darting swollen, red eyes at me. She quickly wiped her tears, sending me a fake smile. I approached her slowly, as I pull out a pen from my breast pocket.
Since I couldn't find a paper, I wrote on the palm of my hand, then held it out for her to see 'what did I do this time?'
Her frown shifted to a smile and a laugh erupted from her lips 'Surprisingly, nothing.'
I wrote down another question on the back of my hand 'Then, what's wrong?'
Abigail stared lazily at my hand, then pointed at her ears. At first, I didn't understand the gesture, but then what she said next haunted me: 'I miss the noise,' She gave a small pause 'which is ironic, since I never liked loud noises, but now, I want to listen to everything around me.' She looked down at her hands, clutching on a tissue 'from that annoying dog in the 10th floor to the hushed steps of ants'
But she can't.
'But most importantly, I miss your voice'
Why did have to happen to her? Of all people, why her? It could've been me, it could've been Carla, but fate just had to brutalize Abigail.
Today, when I came back from work, I saw…nothing. Literally actually. The lights were off and it was utterly quiet. However, my eyes spot a dim light impending from the kitchen. I entered further and I hear soft sobs. I stood at the doorway of the kitchen to see my beloved Abigail, sitting on the counter, a pool of used tissues beneath her dangling feet.
Her face was hidden behind curtains of blonde hair, but I catch a tear sliding down her cheek and descended on her hand. And as if sensing my presence, her head shot up, darting swollen, red eyes at me. She quickly wiped her tears, sending me a fake smile. I approached her slowly, as I pull out a pen from my breast pocket.
Since I couldn't find a paper, I wrote on the palm of my hand, then held it out for her to see 'what did I do this time?'
Her frown shifted to a smile and a laugh erupted from her lips 'Surprisingly, nothing.'
I wrote down another question on the back of my hand 'Then, what's wrong?'
Abigail stared lazily at my hand, then pointed at her ears. At first, I didn't understand the gesture, but then what she said next haunted me: 'I miss the noise,' She gave a small pause 'which is ironic, since I never liked loud noises, but now, I want to listen to everything around me.' She looked down at her hands, clutching on a tissue 'from that annoying dog in the 10th floor to the hushed steps of ants'
But she can't.
'But most importantly, I miss your voice'
Day 4
Abigail is hiding something, I know it. She's not her usual self - apart from becoming deaf, of course. Since she gave me that journal and she's been completely secretive – hiding stuff in a small, locked box, texting someone whenever she's alone - or so she thinks - hiding the truth with a forced smile.
What has gotten into that woman?
When I finally confronted Abigail, she simply blinked at me; Was my handwriting sloppy? It was pretty clear to me.
She let out a sigh 'Yes' she stated, 'yes, I am hiding something from you'
Well, that was quick.
'However, I won't tell you'
Uh, that sounded more like her.
'Tell you what,' She smiled, as she tapped my nose with her index finger 'I will tell you, but after ten days'
Ten days? I know, for some reason that, ten is her favorite number, but I can't wait that long.
And as if she read my mind, she blurted out 'and don't tell me that you can't wait, I know you're not the patient type, but please bear with me.' She got on her tiptoes, kissed the tip of my nose –a habit I got used to – and then walked away as if nothing happened.
That woman never fails to surprise me.
Abigail is hiding something, I know it. She's not her usual self - apart from becoming deaf, of course. Since she gave me that journal and she's been completely secretive – hiding stuff in a small, locked box, texting someone whenever she's alone - or so she thinks - hiding the truth with a forced smile.
What has gotten into that woman?
When I finally confronted Abigail, she simply blinked at me; Was my handwriting sloppy? It was pretty clear to me.
She let out a sigh 'Yes' she stated, 'yes, I am hiding something from you'
Well, that was quick.
'However, I won't tell you'
Uh, that sounded more like her.
'Tell you what,' She smiled, as she tapped my nose with her index finger 'I will tell you, but after ten days'
Ten days? I know, for some reason that, ten is her favorite number, but I can't wait that long.
And as if she read my mind, she blurted out 'and don't tell me that you can't wait, I know you're not the patient type, but please bear with me.' She got on her tiptoes, kissed the tip of my nose –a habit I got used to – and then walked away as if nothing happened.
That woman never fails to surprise me.
Day 7
Yes, I haven't written for 2 days; a man can get busy, you know. Busy looking out for my deaf wife, that's what I'm doing. Abigail hasn't been eating nor sleeping well. She would wake up in the middle of the night, not wanting to go back to sleep, so she reads a book instead. She would tell me that she's not hungry, even though I could hear her stomach growling, proving her dishonesty.
Why is she starving herself? Why is she hidings things from me? The better question is, what is happening to my wife?
Yes, I haven't written for 2 days; a man can get busy, you know. Busy looking out for my deaf wife, that's what I'm doing. Abigail hasn't been eating nor sleeping well. She would wake up in the middle of the night, not wanting to go back to sleep, so she reads a book instead. She would tell me that she's not hungry, even though I could hear her stomach growling, proving her dishonesty.
Why is she starving herself? Why is she hidings things from me? The better question is, what is happening to my wife?
Day 10
4 days left, but they aren't even helping. Abigail, once a jolly woman with grins and smiles that would never fade from that porcelain face, became almost doll-like – hollow cheeks, skin pale as sleet, and bony figure. Words barely leave those pale lips anymore, and as much as she missed my voice, I miss hers even more.
I told her to go see a doctor, but she plainly shoved the question aside with a shrug. I mentally yelled at her for being so uncaring, even though I knew she would not hear me. I insisted, writing down with heavy fingers, but she slowly took the paper I was writing on, crumbled it to a ball, and threw it in the trash.
So, I decided not to push the subject further.
4 days left, but they aren't even helping. Abigail, once a jolly woman with grins and smiles that would never fade from that porcelain face, became almost doll-like – hollow cheeks, skin pale as sleet, and bony figure. Words barely leave those pale lips anymore, and as much as she missed my voice, I miss hers even more.
I told her to go see a doctor, but she plainly shoved the question aside with a shrug. I mentally yelled at her for being so uncaring, even though I knew she would not hear me. I insisted, writing down with heavy fingers, but she slowly took the paper I was writing on, crumbled it to a ball, and threw it in the trash.
So, I decided not to push the subject further.
Day 12
I'm running out of words. Useless words cannot describe how heartbroken I am. What did time do to my Abigail? She keeps sinking into a endless ocean of desolation, and I am sad – no, sad isn't the right word, 'distraught' perhaps? – to say that she is almost at bottom of the ocean. I can barely recognize my darling now. I pray every day for a miracle to end her suffering.
I'm running out of words. Useless words cannot describe how heartbroken I am. What did time do to my Abigail? She keeps sinking into a endless ocean of desolation, and I am sad – no, sad isn't the right word, 'distraught' perhaps? – to say that she is almost at bottom of the ocean. I can barely recognize my darling now. I pray every day for a miracle to end her suffering.
Day 13
So tomorrow is finally the day she will tell me her 'little' secret. Damn, it felt like a decade rather than ten days. When I reminded her of tomorrow, her eyes grew wide as a plate, but only three words escaped her lips
'Right.'
Pause
'Can't wait.'
So tomorrow is finally the day she will tell me her 'little' secret. Damn, it felt like a decade rather than ten days. When I reminded her of tomorrow, her eyes grew wide as a plate, but only three words escaped her lips
'Right.'
Pause
'Can't wait.'
Day 14
That was not the type of miracle I expected. My darling, is that what you were hiding from me? That you were dying? Unfortunately, I found that out on my own. I found it a relief that I woke up, seeing you beside me. but that relief faded when I saw your immobilized body, your arms loosely wrapped around me, and your lips that left no words nor breaths.
Was that your 'little' secret? Why did you hide it from me? I always knew you were a wild, silly woman with mad thoughts, but I didn't think you would take it this far. You managed to hide a worthy secret, akin to hiding a corpse beneath the dirt. You left me empty, much like yourself, and lonesome. How did I manage to stand before your coffin still surprises me.
Just like you always surprised me.
That was not the type of miracle I expected. My darling, is that what you were hiding from me? That you were dying? Unfortunately, I found that out on my own. I found it a relief that I woke up, seeing you beside me. but that relief faded when I saw your immobilized body, your arms loosely wrapped around me, and your lips that left no words nor breaths.
Was that your 'little' secret? Why did you hide it from me? I always knew you were a wild, silly woman with mad thoughts, but I didn't think you would take it this far. You managed to hide a worthy secret, akin to hiding a corpse beneath the dirt. You left me empty, much like yourself, and lonesome. How did I manage to stand before your coffin still surprises me.
Just like you always surprised me.
As Simon was about to close the journal for the last time, he flipped through the pages expecting empty ones, but boy was he wrong. After flipping through five pages, he read…
Day 1
He doesn't remember writing that, but then again, why would he write 'Day 1' in a random page?
But then it occurred to him – That's not his handwriting.
'Even when you're not around, you never fail to surprise me'
He doesn't remember writing that, but then again, why would he write 'Day 1' in a random page?
But then it occurred to him – That's not his handwriting.
'Even when you're not around, you never fail to surprise me'
- Bothaina Ayman
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