The white walls are canvases.
‘The goldfish keep the lilies company’.
Looking up into her face I smiled and she sat down next to me, helping me assemble my daisy necklace. And just like that we were friends. When I told my parents about Maansi they were pleased I had finally snapped out of my week long silence.
I sat by the pond again the following, and only had to wait a few minutes before she appeared again from behind the mass of golden flowers. Mother was waiting in the kitchen with tea and the vanilla cupcakes we had made earlier.
‘A medical miracle’ the newspapers had called me. I had just turned fourteen…it seems like so long ago.
Well it was…
Looking back I doubt it was the blessing everyone saw.
‘Bus hits Primrose Place walls – no casualties’
Heavy rain and winds were blinding the drivers view as the bus negotiated the last curve before our stop. It must have lost control on the wet leaves as it slammed against the wall of the large estate house.
It all went blank. I woke up to my white walls.
I was sitting next to our garden pond when she came out from behind the bright yellow blossoming Forsythia and walked up to me. She wore a white dress – always the same spotless white dress – with a matching bow in her hair. She seemed to glow in the afternoon sun.
As we walked in, Mannsi politely smiled up to my mother, and eagerly looked away, eying up the sweets on the pink table cloth. Following a confused argument, Mother sent to my room for my cheek at playing make believe.
I never mentioned Maansi again. I kept her to myself, far from the world I failed to understand.
A world for which I had recreated the façade of a cheerful yet solitary child, playing on my own for hours on end by the pond. And to a certain extent this was true, the years now blur into a bright blaze of fun and child play, with the ghost of Maansi by my side.
But all changed when Mother heard me talking to Maansi.
The medical profession concluded I had a rare brain trauma. In plain English I was having hallucinations.
In absentee, I was destined to be a guinea pig to one of his newest protocols in neurology. I was scared but my parents assured me this would be for the best: for me, for all of us.
It all went blank. I woke up to my white walls.
I felt different - I felt light. Something had been lifted.
Maansi had not come to see me since the operation.
I often went out to the pond and waited for her, but she never came, the Forsynthia lost its leaves early that autumn.
The ghosts that had lifted however soon crept back as my loneliness crept in…I was as lonely as ever…
By then my façade had even managed to fool myself at times into contentment.
The years went by, and my thoughts remained disconnected. I had lost something, or perhaps just lost myself…
…the façade has grown, to include University Certificate and eventually a wedding.
My parents adored James and he seemed quite fond of me. I did not know how I felt about him, I suppose he was just another actor in this animal farm I called my life, and I played the part of the loving mother to Julie and Henry, our two children.
‘It’s a shame the lilies do not bloom in the winter.’
I am alone in the big house now. Since Christmas, Julie has been coming to visit more often with the children. Henry calls every other night.
I often sit by the window looking out onto the sun flooded grounds, were an old lady in a girls summer dress appears to feed the fish once in a while. Wrinkles sculpt her face.
I can see her now. She walks up to the house.
The lilies had not come up this year. The roots died over the winter due to the long and hard frost.
‘Two fish have died’, I heard her whisper from my bedroom door.
‘They miss the lilies…’ I say, looking at last into Maansi´s eyes.
Maansi is young again, and we are by the pond. Her face smiles down at me once more as my heart fills with happiness, joy, love, and sadness. All those moments piled up in a distant past I was never able to live fully.
The lilies…the pond…her luminous white dress… it all fades.
It all goes blank...my white walls disappear…or are they blooming?
‘The goldfish keep the lilies company’.
Looking up into her face I smiled and she sat down next to me, helping me assemble my daisy necklace. And just like that we were friends. When I told my parents about Maansi they were pleased I had finally snapped out of my week long silence.
I sat by the pond again the following, and only had to wait a few minutes before she appeared again from behind the mass of golden flowers. Mother was waiting in the kitchen with tea and the vanilla cupcakes we had made earlier.
‘A medical miracle’ the newspapers had called me. I had just turned fourteen…it seems like so long ago.
Well it was…
Looking back I doubt it was the blessing everyone saw.
‘Bus hits Primrose Place walls – no casualties’
Heavy rain and winds were blinding the drivers view as the bus negotiated the last curve before our stop. It must have lost control on the wet leaves as it slammed against the wall of the large estate house.
It all went blank. I woke up to my white walls.
I was sitting next to our garden pond when she came out from behind the bright yellow blossoming Forsythia and walked up to me. She wore a white dress – always the same spotless white dress – with a matching bow in her hair. She seemed to glow in the afternoon sun.
As we walked in, Mannsi politely smiled up to my mother, and eagerly looked away, eying up the sweets on the pink table cloth. Following a confused argument, Mother sent to my room for my cheek at playing make believe.
I never mentioned Maansi again. I kept her to myself, far from the world I failed to understand.
A world for which I had recreated the façade of a cheerful yet solitary child, playing on my own for hours on end by the pond. And to a certain extent this was true, the years now blur into a bright blaze of fun and child play, with the ghost of Maansi by my side.
But all changed when Mother heard me talking to Maansi.
The medical profession concluded I had a rare brain trauma. In plain English I was having hallucinations.
In absentee, I was destined to be a guinea pig to one of his newest protocols in neurology. I was scared but my parents assured me this would be for the best: for me, for all of us.
It all went blank. I woke up to my white walls.
I felt different - I felt light. Something had been lifted.
Maansi had not come to see me since the operation.
I often went out to the pond and waited for her, but she never came, the Forsynthia lost its leaves early that autumn.
The ghosts that had lifted however soon crept back as my loneliness crept in…I was as lonely as ever…
By then my façade had even managed to fool myself at times into contentment.
The years went by, and my thoughts remained disconnected. I had lost something, or perhaps just lost myself…
…the façade has grown, to include University Certificate and eventually a wedding.
My parents adored James and he seemed quite fond of me. I did not know how I felt about him, I suppose he was just another actor in this animal farm I called my life, and I played the part of the loving mother to Julie and Henry, our two children.
‘It’s a shame the lilies do not bloom in the winter.’
I am alone in the big house now. Since Christmas, Julie has been coming to visit more often with the children. Henry calls every other night.
I often sit by the window looking out onto the sun flooded grounds, were an old lady in a girls summer dress appears to feed the fish once in a while. Wrinkles sculpt her face.
I can see her now. She walks up to the house.
The lilies had not come up this year. The roots died over the winter due to the long and hard frost.
‘Two fish have died’, I heard her whisper from my bedroom door.
‘They miss the lilies…’ I say, looking at last into Maansi´s eyes.
Maansi is young again, and we are by the pond. Her face smiles down at me once more as my heart fills with happiness, joy, love, and sadness. All those moments piled up in a distant past I was never able to live fully.
The lilies…the pond…her luminous white dress… it all fades.
It all goes blank...my white walls disappear…or are they blooming?
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