The Lost Others

 “You might wonder why I do this private vlogging thing,” Devi began. “I’ve often wondered myself. It started out with this need for you to know things. Especially with that…” Devi paused, searching for the right word. “… situation, shall we call it- that kept us all apart for a bit.” She cleared her throat. “But even then, there are still things I need others out there to know. The problem with that is those others have kinda been lost, in a way. They may never know these things I so desperately want them to know. They may know them, somehow. If, by some miracle, I did manage to convey it, before the others became lost.” 

Devi stopped in her tracks as tears started to trickle slowly down her face. She knew then this vlog would be a very private vlog. Very private, because no one would see it but her. In which case, why only pause the recording? Why not just stop? Because she needed to get it out, somewhere. And maybe one day, she’d change her mind about not sharing it. Maybe one day, she’d put it out there, a desperate plea for the return of missing persons. Maybe, if she did put it out there, the lost others would find it. Maybe, if they did find it, they wouldn’t be lost or missing from her life anymore. Because they’d have found her again. 

Devi gulped down the lump that had formed in her throat before reaching out to restart the recording. “What I want the lost others to know… what I need them to know is how much of an impact they had on me. I wish there’d been more time for me to tell them. But I took too long to work up the courage. And then, it was too late. I was this close.” Devi held up her thumb and forefinger, mere millimetres apart, for the camera to see. “But they disappeared before I had the chance. They disappeared without a trace.” Devi released a heavy sigh. “I don’t have many regrets in my life. But this is definitely one of them.” She blinked, then looked purposefully straight down the barrel of the camera. “So Odie, Christie, A… if any of you are seeing this, know that you left a mark behind you. I’d love to see you again. To be allowed one more chance to say what’s been on the tip of my tongue, what I’ve wanted to, for so long now… I promise I wouldn’t let it slip away again.” 

Devi knew the answer perfectly well, but she asked the universe anyway. “Why do we wait to tell the people who are important to us that they’re important, and why? Why do we wait and say it, often when they’re not around to hear it and feel it?” Devi was reminded of a driving force for starting these private vlogs- not just others who were lost because they’d disappeared, but others who were lost because they were gone. Not out there somewhere, but not here at all anymore. Those lost others, who were lost forever, had taught her to share with her loved ones while there were there. The regret came in with those who’d been lost through disappearing before she’d had that realisation. “I’ve had enough of the fear of it. And it may be uncomfortable because it’s not what people do. But it’s what we should all do. So I’m going to do it. Because if there are more lost others, I want them to become lost knowing what I need them to know. Knowing their impact and the mark they’ve left behind.” 

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This story continues Devi’s Diaries, which started here. Full collection (so far) on Wattpad here.

Maria’s Notes

I pat the pocket of my denim shorts and smile at the ever so subtle bulge of a few pieces of folded paper hidden inside. One for each of the people that surrounds me. I write these kinds of notes every year, for everyone. Handing them out never fails to add to the end of year cheer. Despite the fact I do it every year, everyone seems surprised, albeit pleasantly so. Seeing the happiness it brings them makes me happy too. Happiness, I believe, is infectious. I like being the one to spread it. 

But my own happiness doesn’t last so long. Instead, it fades quickly as I finish handing out the last note to the last person and slip into the background as everyone else goes on, as if there hadn’t been a note at all. I pat my pocket. As I expected, this time, it’s empty. There never seems to be a note for me. The thought feels me with sadness, and a sense that I am small. Tiny and insignificant. Like a mouse. I feel a pain in my chest and place a hand over my heart, almost like I can hold it. My heart hurts. The ache reaches my eyes as tears form behind them. 

“Maria!” The puffed shout of my name snaps me from my wallowing. I snap my head up to see a young woman panting for breath just a few steps away. “Maria,” she says again. “I’ve been trying to find you!” 

I blink as I rise to my feet. “You have?” 

“Yeah. I… I wanted to catch you before we all went home. I wanted to give you this.” In her fingers is a folded piece of paper, not too dissimilar to the ones I’ve been handing out all afternoon, which she holds out to me. 

Instead of taking it, I simply stare at it. Then, I look up at the tall, blondes brown haired woman in front of me. My mouth falls open, but no words come out. “You wrote me a note?” I ask. 

Her cheeks darken to a bright shade of red. “Yeah…” her eyes fall to her feet. 

“Thank you,” I whisper, finally reaching for the note. She allows it to slide into my grip. 

She is smiling when she meets my eyes again. Her cheeks are still red. “Well, anyway… I do have to go now, but I really wanted you to have that.” She nods at the note, now tucked into my pocket and turns on her heel. 

I smile back at her, warmth coursing through me as she recedes, slowly disappearing from view. I wait until she is out of sight to retreat to the shady tree I’d been wallowing beneath earlier, sit down and take out the note.

Dearest Maria, the note to me begins.  Just as I begin all of my notes. 

Thank you for your unwavering kindness, and for spreading your sunshine wherever you go. It brightens my day, and I’m sorry it’s not recognised more often. It should be. But I want you to know, Maria, that I see you, and I really, really appreciate you and everything you do. 

Effie

My mouth is agape again. I read the note a few times over, to try and make Effie’s words sink in. But I’m too stuck in disbelief. Someone sees me. Better than that, someone appreciates me. That almost never happens! Except today, it did. The last line of the note lingers in my mind, as if trying to imprint itself there. 

I want you to know, that I see you, and I really, really appreciate you, and everything you do.

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This story continues the Bleeding Hearts collection, which started here. You can also find all the stories from the collection (so far- will update there as/if more is written) together in one place on Wattpad here. 

High

 "Woah," breathed the blue clad blonde. "Where is this? Where are we" 

"We've gone as high as the sky," her companion, dressed in shades of purple and a country style hat, said, matter of fact. 

"But how?" Asked their friend, who, but for his bright, pastel hair, could've passed for some kind of investigator or detective. Still could've, possibly. Just a fun one who may've had a hard time being taken seriously. "You can't float on air!" 

"Except," said shades of purple, "it would seem that we can." She reached out, as if touching the air with her fingertips would prove her point.

"Woah! Cool." Blue clad blonde followed her friend's lead, fascinated. 

"I've always waned to know what clouds felt like to touch," said the imitation investigator/ detective. "And I'll bet we could push them aside to reach the sky." 

"Yeah!" Blue clad blonde said excitedly. "And you can see the clouds now too!" Her demeanour fell, like a pin dropping to the ground in an otherwise silent room, as the logic of their previous fact' started to falter. "But wait." She frowned  "If we've uncovered the clouds, what's this?" 

Shades of purple narrowed her eyes, studying the counterfeit clouds, now realising they did, in fact, look different from the real clouds further up above them. These 'clouds', unlike the real ones were a pale purpley-pink. The colour was so faint, it could easily be mistaken for the pure white of a regular cloud. 

"They are marshmallow fluff!"  imitation investigator/ detective declared decisively. He made to reach out, as if he could break some off like fairy floss to eat. Instead, his hand fell through it, like with a real cloud. 

Blue clad blonde watched on, wide eyed. "Aww!" She groaned, when his hand fell through instead of connecting with what she too had hoped was marshmallow fluff. "I thought it'd be grape!" 

"That would've been really cool," said imitation investigator/ detective, catching on to his friend's sadness. 

Their other friend had only just opened her mouth when the world around them started to spin, stopping all of them in their tracks. 

"Woah!" Blue clad blonde said again, hurriedly reaching to grab onto something to prevent herself flying away. 

Just as abruptly, the world fell still and silent again. The three friends opened their eyes just as the large ottoman on which they'd all fallen came to a stop. There was a moment of quiet and calm before they all groaned. 

"Uh!" Said shades of purple, pressing a hand to her suddenly pounding head. 

"Can someone stop this ride?" Blue clad blonde cried. "I think I'm going to be sick!" 

"Ugh!" Imitation investigator/ detective agreed. "What did we do last night?" 

"Partied too hard?" Blue clad blonde offered weakly.

"Ugh!" Imitation investigator / detective said again, now also with a hand to his head.

"I believe," said shades of purple in a whisper, standing in front of them, "that we got high." 

"Then you stole my hat!" Blue clad blonde cried, making a grab for the country style hat she'd just spotted on her friend's head. 

"Here." Shades of purple took the hat from her head and sent it flying in the blonde's direction. "You take it." 

The hat landed on the floor, metres from where blue clad blonde stood. She stumbled after it, and straightened as she set it down on her head, smiling with satisfaction. "There. Now I'm the cowgirl I was meant to be!" 

"You're investigator/ detective costume held up alright,"  said shades of purple, giving her pastel haired friend the once over. 

"What were you 'sposed to be again?" he asked, tiredness starting to hit him. 

Shades of purple looked down at herself with a critical eye. "I dunno," she admitted, meeting his gaze again. "Maybe one of the barbies?" 

"But which one?" asked blue clad, cowgirl blonde. 

"The purple one?" 

Cowgirl blonde frowned. "But your hair doesn't match!" 

"So?" asked Purple Barbie. 

Cowgirl blonde shrugged, out of comebacks or arguments. 

Without warning, purple barbie burst into laughter. "We certainly went high as the sky last night." 

"Yep," Imitation investigator? detective said with a wince as he forced himself to a sitting position. "And now we're paying the price for it." 

"But it was fun, right?" Blonde cowgirl asked, a hopeful light in her sky blue eyes. 

"Yeah," her two friends agreed, glancing at each other before looking back at her. 

"And worth it?" 

"I dunno." 

"That's up for debate I think," they countered. 

"But it was fun."  

To Be Believed

 She had to survey her surroundings a few times before her brain would begin to register the input from her eyes. There were people around her, a lot of them, who knew her. They were all standing by her, ready to stand up if she needed it. Ready to defend if it was necessary. Ready to risk themselves, or so her scarred mind believed. Because back then, anyone who did try to help her paid a price, as did she. But, that was then, and this was now. She knew that. Or, the small part of her still in touch with logic did. 

Just, ever since then, her connection with that part of herself still in touch with logic had weakened. And sometimes, it was blurry. Sometimes, now felt distant and far away, and then felt way too close for comfort. But right now, she was in it enough to see all of the people around her, even if her scarred mind was reluctant to believe it. She was in it enough to see all of the people, willing to stand by and stand up. Not just willing, but actually doing it. 

She couldn’t help the tiny hint of a smile on her lips, owing to the small part of herself still in touch with logic, at the now army’s worth of strangers standing behind and alongside her. Because that small part of herself knew that even though then still affected her now, it was back then, not now. Even if, because of then, she couldn’t quite bring herself to believe that this, now, was her reality. Now is what she’d dreamt of. Now is what she’d never thought would happen. To have people around her. To know she wasn’t alone. And to be believed. That was the most impactful. That all of these people stood by her now, because they believed her story, and they believed that what she had subjected to was wrong. To be believed was the first, most important step of all. And to think it had all started with one single stranger. 

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This story is part of the Stranger series, which started here. You can find the full collection, together in one place, on Wattpad here.

This story was partially inspired by two incredibly powerful TV spots. A scene on Season 4, episode 7 of Sex Education around the importance of accessibility (more here) and season 14, episode 9 of Grey’s Anatomy, which shows the aftermath of trauma and the impact of others’ support.  

For those who have experienced trauma, know that you are not alone. And for those who know someone who has experienced trauma, remember that simply being believed can be indescribably powerful. 

Waiting In The Sun

They are all here in the sun, waiting for me. Just like I’ve always been told they would be. It’s far better than I could have imagined. Everyone important is here. Everyone who’s ever been important. Everyone. All together. Here in the sun. 

The park is weirdly empty aside from us, but I’m not going to complain. The grass is green, the sky is blue and clear, and the sun is shining bright above us. Oh, and there’s a nice breeze too, so no one gets too warm. 

I can’t help smiling, I’m so happy. When my loved ones notice me, they smile back at me. The ones closest open their arms. Feeling like a giddy child lost in the sheer joy of play, I run toward them. I run faster than I can remember ever running. As if the wind is pushing me along, and my path is downhill, which means my good friend gravity lends a helping hand. It’s like I’m running the last few metres of a race. It’s a wonder I don’t bowl anyone over. 

I emerge from the warm huddle-hug (because everyone had to get in on the action) and look around at all my loved ones. Really everyone is here- aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins, siblings, parents, friends. All of the people who make me feel safest in the whole entire world. All here. 

I feel tears touch the tip of my eyelashes when I open my eyes, finding I’m not in the park with everyone anymore. Maybe I never was. But I like to think I was there, in a way. I smile as more tears fall, knowing not everyone at the park is here with me in this waking reality. But I know now they’re all there, in the sun at the park. They’ll be there waiting for me. 

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For all those who have lost a loved one. They’ll be waiting in the sun for you.