THE GIRL IN THE WINDOW:

The girl in the window

How do I begin the story of the girl in the window? I guess I’ll begin from the start, like any good narrator.

Thursday, in my opinion is the worst day of the week, you’re so close to Friday but yet you have to go another painful day at school. I was trying to get to sleep by scrolling through my phone, like any teenager these days when I saw a light coming through my small window on the fourth floor of my apartment block. I looked towards the light and saw her. The girl in the window. Her face looked translucent against the light. Her body looked frail and small compared to the window she leaned on.

Only now was I aware I had been staring at this girl for a quite a considerable amount of time, but I couldn’t look away. It was like looking into a mirror that showed me the exact opposite of myself. She lives on the other side of the narrow alley first of all, the road that divides us, it symbolizes different people staying with their assigned race in simple terms on my side is where colored people live, including myself, on her side big houses with posh white people who look at me like I’m dirt.

I watch her for a long time, then she sees me. We look at each other, but the strange thing is… we look at each other like equals, she doesn’t look like she thinks she’s better than me in fact she smiles at me. A smile that looks like it hasn’t been used in a long time.

Every night after that we talk, I know what you’re thinking reader “How is it possible you talked to her if you were in your room?” well we faced the same dilemma, but in the end we started writing on paper and pressing it against the window so the other person could read it. I grew nervous when I was nearly out of paper, but I started stealing copy books from school so I could use the pages.

I learned her name was Emily, so unlike the names I usually heard. I liked saying her name to myself, it made me feel good. I asked one night if we could see each other in the day, in secret of course. She replied that she couldn’t because she was sick. This is what I had feared, so I asked “What is your sickness?” she took awhile to reply but after awhile she wrote on the paper something I never understood until I was old enough. “I’m not sick with something real, I’m sick in my head”.

After a few weeks, the school caught on I was stealing copies from the other students. My teacher was very nice about it after I gave her the almost truth about why I needed the copies I said “I didn’t have any paper at home and I wanted to write”. When I came into school the next day she gave me a hard back copy with loads of pages in it. This was one of the kindest things anyone has done for me.

After a year me and Emily were the best of friends, we knew every single thing about each other. Of course I asked for her phone number but she said she wasn’t allowed a phone because it would make her more sick than she already was. later I then googled “Sicknesses caused from your phone” I didn’t really understand what came up but I didn’t get a good feeling from it. One night Emily told me that “she loved me more than a sister” I said “me too”. After that all I thought about was Emily she was on my mind 24/7, I tried to think about how I could cure her but I didn’t want to upset her by asking too much.

A few nights after she talked about the “loving me more than a sister thing” she said something else “Nora, do you ever think about kissing girls?” I took my time writing my response but after a while I showed up my response and even from far away I could see her face glow. What I said was “No, but I think about kissing you.”

We arranged to run away together. She said I would make her better, I felt amazing knowing I could make her feel good again. She said she would bring most of the supplies, she knew I didn’t have much. She started putting away bits of her dinner to bring with us and finally we were ready. Two nights away only two nights! I was buzzing!

The next night she didn’t come, I knew instantly something was wrong, neither of us had missed a night in a year and a half. In the morning I missed the school bus on purpose, my mum didn’t care though she was too high to care. I waited by the door for someone to go out of Emily’s apartment, finally a bald man wearing a suit came out and perfect he looked like he was in a rush. When he opened the door I waited till he was out of sight to run to the door and let myself in.

I knew what level she was on so I sprinted my way up the hallway sweat running down my dirty skin, not from running, from nerves. I got looks from people but no one stopped me, thank god. I finally reached her apartment, a grand white door stood In front of me and my love. I already had a plan in place for what to say to her dad who would most likely open the door, my plan was “Hello I’m the maid for the day, Zelda couldn’t be in today” I knew they had a maid called Zelda and that she arrived at 10 every morning, it was 9:30 if he asked why I was early I would say “I wanted to make a good impression on my first day”. When he answered I was not prepared for what I saw, a man double my height with a red swollen face with tears in his eyes. I instantly dropped my act and said “What happened? IS SHE OK???!!?” he looked very surprised to say the least. “Who are you?!” I look at him and say “I’m someone who deserves to know what’s happening, and where Emily is” her name makes him flinch and he says “Look, why don’t you just get out of here? Leave me alone.” he goes to close the door, but I put my foot in the way and in a explosion of anger and tell him everything, how long I have known his daughter, how much I have loved her. I tell him all this and when I finish, he opens the door and gives me a hug that hug tells me more than I want to know about what has happened, it is a hug of sorrow and loss. Then he tells me everything, about her episodes, about how she refused to eat, how she died. Starvation.

That day we cried together. Over someone we both loved so much it hurt. I went through my life happy yes, but satisfied? No. When I saw this writing competition I thought about her, how I blamed myself for her death, how she made feel, and it just made me think about her. Thank you for reading this.