Paper Boat : A deep dive

It was too much of a similar night. The lamp post radiating the white light at twelve in the night peeped in through my uncurtained window as if calling out to me. I seized my blanket and the diary from the bedside and wobbled towards the window with the help of crutches as the rain splattered against the glasses. I slid the window glass and leaned against the window sill, making myself comfortable as the crutches fell on the floor with a thud. The water droplets slithered across the metallic frame dribbling on my forehead.

I flipped open my diary, shielding it against the rainwater as my mind steered clear of any thoughts. Struggling to configure words, I scribbled gibberish on the bare page.

 'I sit by myself all alone,

watching as the sky grows dark...'

Scribbling.

Striking.

Scribbling.

Striking.

As a sigh of agitation passed my lips, I tore the page off the diary, crumpling it in my fist, and threw it straight towards the dustbin standing beside my door. It was as if my brain had stopped functioning, giving into the indefinite strands of nerves, exploring the realms of my conscious. I shut my eyes, trying to find my calm and serenity in the pattering of rain, musical to my ears. After what felt like an eternity, my orbs shot open at the sound of splashing water and traveled frantically to find its source, locking upon a petite frame, crouching beside a mud water puddle. Eyes squinted, I tried to discern his frame against the dim street lamp. It was a boy of ten wrapped in tattered clothes, drenching in water as his hands worked on a piece of paper. Creasing and unfolding the paper, again and again, he meticulously shaped the paper into a paper boat. 

A simple yet beautiful paper boat.

I stared at him dumbfounded, trying to comprehend why he was out there on the vacant road at midnight. He took the paper boat in his hands and shoves it along the running water in the rainwater drain, a wide grin stretched on his face. I smiled at the innocence in his eyes as mine met with his. He beamed at me as he waved his hands and slowly trudged towards the hedgerow surrounding my home. All of a sudden, a blaze of light caught my perception, and I jerked forward holding onto the frame of the windowsill as I shrieked at him to move away as the car rushing towards him honked repeatedly, and then, my train of memories obstructed my vision. 

I fell unconscious again. Everything was recurring again.

The sound of rustling leaves and swaying trees echoed in the air as I sprauchled across the footpath, occasionally splashing water puddles, filled in the cracks and crevices of the paver blocks. A lightning flash enveloped the air, followed by a rumble of thunder as I lowered the hood of my sweatshirt to shield myself from the imminent downpour. I shuddered as a cold gust of wind hit me on the face, and rainwater cascaded, seeping through my hood meeting my scalp. My feet brought me under a temporary shade as I let out a sigh of relief when the vibrant ringing of my phone interrupted my thoughts. I fumbled with my handbag for a while, struggling to find my cellphone amongst its many contents. As my hands felt the familiar touch of its display, I quickly grabbed it and tapped on the green icon on the bottom right corner.

"Chels," I greeted.

"Evie, what the heck! It's been raining and, I have been calling you for ages but, of course, your majesty did not have time to pick up the phone! I have been sitting outside on the porch waiting..." the motormouth rumbled on as I distanced my ear from the phone to safeguard my fragile hearing box. I counted till ten before, leading it back to my ears, and let out a huff of frustration.

"...and I had no other option except calling Mrs. Lewis."

My eyes widened at her words as I screeched in agitation.

"You did what!"

A whimper reverberated in my ear through the phone and I imagined her quivering in anxiety and terror to face me. 

"Chelsea Erik Anderson", she shuddered at my use of her full name as we both were aware of an unspoken pact between us, which implied that the usage of our full name was an indication of a disaster on its way.

"I want you to ring her up right now and inform her that I am on my way back home or else, you will not find your bones in your body tomorrow morning" I warned her in a menacing tone. The rain was slackening as I got out from under the shade and started trudging along the path to my apartment. 

"E-Evie, I w-was g-going to..." her speech was cut off as a shriek resounded in my ears.

"Watch out!" someone called me.

I turned around on my heels and then, everything happened within a second. I was evaded by speech, unable to shuffle as a blaze of light bound my sight and a screeching sound of tires pervaded my ears as I felt a dumper truck hit my body and everything turned black.

I was walking along an abstract alley, as my petite feet led me towards the halo blue light, emanating from its indefinite end. The winds smoothed past me but it was never uncomfortable to survive in. My gaze wandered, drinking in my surroundings as the bluish light began turning green, followed by golden yellow. I kept on prowling, struggling as my hands try to reach out to the yellowish-white light, but a voice stopped me, reverberating in my ears.

"Evelyn..."

The voice tugged on my arms, hauling me away from the light source. I wept attempting to free myself of the hold.

"Evelyn, can you hear me?"

"Evie..."

But I couldn't respond...

After remaining unconscious for a few days, I found myself bed-ridden in a private hospital, Chelsea always by my side. The driver was convicted for 7 years in a hit and run case and I was discharged after being under surveillance for a week.

But it was not just an accident.

It was a trauma.

A trauma I couldn't get myself out of.

A trauma in which I was still swirling.

It was hauling me into the darkness.

I was falling...and falling...

-

"Evelyn."

I scrunched my nose at the familiar call and my orbs abruptly flew open to find Chelsea towering over me. My eyes squinted due to the unforeseen outburst of light as I tried to take a glimpse of my surroundings. I was lying beside my window, my clothes and hair soaked in the rainwater and the events from earlier sprinted across my brain as I glanced out of the window, to find not a single trace of the boy from the previous night. I shuddered at the thoughts of him withstanding a similar experience to mine and peered back at Chelsea.

"Where's the boy?" I croaked in a feeble voice.

"What boy?" 

Chelsea scrutinized me, utterly confused.

"T-The b-boy from e-earlier..h-he w-was..h-he w-was...t-the car..." I stuttered as tears of angst and agony streamed down my eyes, the guilt of claiming his attention overwhelming me. Chelsea cradled my body in her arms as she rocked me back and forth, murmuring soothing words in my ears. 

"Shh...Shh...calm down. You are alright. He is alright." 

I abruptly turned to face her.

"H-He is?"

"Yeah. Apparently, the driver skidded across the road on applying breaks as he saw him before the boy himself leaped across the road. He just grazed his knees and palms. He will be alright in a few days."

A sigh of relief escaped my lips and my panic-stricken heartbeat finally calmed down. 

"Where is he right now?"

-

The door flew open on its hinges after I rattled with the doorknob and wobbled inside my room, plodding towards the window. My hands left the support of the crutches as I slumped against the windowsill again and I reached out to pick my diary off the floor. The past events of the day congested my vision. I had met with the boy in the hospital. He was smiling like yesterday as if nothing had happened and was excited to meet me. I was so much entranced by his innocence that I had not realized when he called out to me. He resembled my child self so much. He was like a wildflower.

Happy, carefree, and acknowledging. Acknowledging the life he was bestowed with. 

He was so distinctive and yet so similar. 

Thoughts started racing in my head.

It had been five years since the accident and yet, it felt as if it was yesterday when I lost my right leg.

Yes.

The accident had miraculously spared my life but instead, taken one of the pillars of my body.

I suffered the loss of my corporate job. I could not move for a year. I was not living.

I was just...breathing.

Until one day, I dug out an old diary from my mother and started scribbling my thoughts into strings of poetry, stories, and memories. And, then it turned out to be a start of a new voyage. I plunged into the sea of words and dwelled there for the gratification and content I was seeking. I wrote books. I wrote novels.

I wrote my story.

I was whole. 

Suddenly, I grappled the pen that lay on the floor and started scrawling as I poured all my emotions on the piece of parchment. I scribbled and scribbled, the scratching sound piercing my hearing box, and with a smile of contentment placed on my lips, I surveyed my work. 

But it was not for the world to see.

It was only for me.

I stood upright with the help of the window frame and grasped my crutches from the floor. The fluttering sound of the pages of the diary caught my ears and I turned on my heels to take the last glimpse out of the window. An old lady with a hunched back was shouting profanities under her breath when a vehicle had accidentally smeared her skirt with the mud. A mother was hastening behind her child on the pavement. A girl and a boy in their early teens were skipping together, a guffaw escaping their lips when one of them was tangled in the rope. I smiled widely at the sight. I had missed so much of the world revolving around me. I walked out of my room gradually as my eyes crinkled with the happiness I was loaded with. I started acknowledging the plain things I was surrounded with. Maybe millions of people shared the same habits as me, but I was happy to be a part of it.

And it felt alright not being distinct.

The simple gesture of sailing a paper boat had guided me on how to live again.

The diary flipped open onto the page I was scrawling on as the winds brushed past it. It was scribbled in messy handwriting but was still legible. It was entitled,

'THE WINDOWSILL'

'I sat still on the windowsill,

bringing knees closer to my heart,

goggling at the cosmic art.

As the tears of the cloud,

exonerate all my doubts.

and, I recline against the wall

to alleviate, time seems to stall.

Fingers stretched as drops fall and,

amass water in the hollow of my hand.

My gaze travels away from the night,

to discern a boy under the streetlight.

Enveloped in oversized rugged wear,

His orbs veiled under disheveled hair.

As his petite hands outstretch, 

to crease the paper along the etch.

After a moment of sedulous work,

fingers shape a boat, and face perks.

With a huge smile, he shoves the boat,

in mud puddles, it sails and floats.

A small giggle escapes my lips,

Espying the survivance of the paper ship.

Hearing my chortle, his head turns around,

and a large beam supersedes his frown.

Sprinting towards the palisade, he waves,

I acknowledge the gesture and engrave

his pristine visage in my grey matter,

as he walks away while he chatters

with a bird, perched on his arm.

Pledging to preserve it, 'gainst all harm.

A serene sigh escapes as my spirit uplifts,

take a last glimpse as the paper boat drifts.

Water droplets trickle down my forehead,

The spritzed hibiscus blooms red.

As I close the curtain of my eyes,

Envisioning myself as a bright kite.

And sever all the threads,

to glide unbound instead.

I stay so still and let the colors fill.

Discard away all my labels,

as I flump against the windowsill.

        - Swasti Jain

The End.