Chapter 5 (Melissa)
I can’t sleep. I’m too anxious about tomorrow. My physical state remains the same, while my emotional state has changed. I’m out of my philosophical mood and I’m ready to continue the Mat-Jason story. Basically, it’s the only thing I can write about, to make me forget everything else. Time to be a typical teenager!
I’ve known Mat most of my life. We went to the same kindergarten. Naturally, as all friendships back then worked — we became instant friends. We played ‘detectives’, using coloured paper as blood and scissors as tweezers. That was our depiction of a detective’s occupation. Of course, it was mandatory for us to date. Very briefly. In first grade. Then I found another love in the toys of another boy. Mat was heartbroken — for about three seconds. Then the girlfriend’s possition in his life was taken over by the famous blondie Sally. They were quite popular for the three weeks they were dating. Some said Mat even got a kiss. Was I jealous? No — a child does not know what jealousy is. I had never even thought about it. None of Mat’s relationships bothered me. I loved him like a brother. Or so I thought.
Jason is something else. He just appeared one day. Nobody knew where he had come from, why he was here or anything. He was the mysterious hot guy. He was that to everyone but the very few who actually knew him. Those people were Mat, Jenny, Isabel and me. We were… We ARE a tight group. The story of how we started hanging out is pretty boring. One day I simply told the gang (Mat, Jenny and Isabel): “Come on! Time to introduce ourselves.” So we did just that and, no more than three months later, Jason and I were a thing. He was a dream come true. He probably would have been that to any other girl, as well. His charm and charisma echoed from the walls and back to him. Everyone knew when he was walking down the hall at school. He radiated confidence and kindness. And I fell in love with that. I fell in love with that and the way he spoke passionately about every single book he’d read. The way he’d send a half smile my way from across the hall. I fell in love with him and all the things he was. His words. His stories. The deep dark secrets that he’d keep. Everything — I loved it.
But now I don’t know what to think. I’m preoccupied with this whole situation. The dreamy guy I fell in love with is somewhere in this hospital. I’m here, waiting for, god knows what. Yes, small letter intended! God cannot justify a capital letter in my eyes. What did I do to deserve this?
I keep thinking about Mr. Nobody and the monologue it starts with. Pigeon Superstition. Like most living creatures, the pigeon quickly associates the pressing of a button with a reward. But when a timer releases a seed every thirty seconds, the pigeon wonders: “What did I do to deserve this?”. If it was flapping its wings at the time it will continue to flap, convinced that its actions have a decisive influence on what happens. I’ve watched that movie so many times that, yes, I can recite the opening sequence. I’m that pigeon right now.
What did I do to deserve this?
I continue writing in this journal, hoping. That Jenny will come through the door. That the doctor will say I’m good to go. That Jason will come in and he’ll be just fine. That everything is just a dream and when morning comes we’ll be on the beach, watching the sun raise over the horizon. I’m writing and I’m waiting for those small, yet meaningful rewards, but they don’t seem to be on their way.