My Diary place

I hate Covid-19 and everything about it, hopefully it will go away soon!

Sophia [Instalment Six]
Sophia burst into life as water was expelled from her lungs, like an old car finally starting, after many attempts to get the engine working. While she was still coughing, she turned her head to one side, which helped a little with breathing, it was then she felt the damp sand. It was a warm day and while she could feel the warmth, it was far from overwhelming, the humidity was a different story it was more oppressive. As Sophia regained her strength she sat up, in front of her was the ocean, behind her were jungles and mountains, but nothing to even suggest the slightest hint of human civilization. A moment of panic seized her, as she discovered that her precious field notes were not to be seen anywhere. Sophia was an explorer of sorts, perhaps not so much as defined in the previous centuries, going into the wildness and fighting with wild beasts rather, she collected notes on the cultures of small, partly indigenous groups in Australia and South America. She stood up to face the wilderness and perhaps even the wild beasts with absolutely no desire to be that kind of explorer. Humans were different & more often than not, would refrain from eating you, with a few noticeable exceptions of course. She stood there not quite knowing what the right thing was to do, should she stay on the beach in hope of rescue or try to find water, maybe some firewood. It was then she thought to herself that she had no idea how to start a fire. That would be a skill an explorer in earlier centuries would have acquired as a child.

‘Right she thought to herself, in all the books she read in such situations, she really needed to find fresh water and find it quickly. She approached then entered the tropical jungle, it felt like that the air got heavier and it became a lot darker under the canopy of the trees. The noises freaked her out, insects are mean things and she recalled that they could be a source of food. She really wished that she did not remember that! She did not hear any beasts but jaguars live in these environments, which is a good thing, they are after all just big cats so nothing to be scared of other than their ability to stalk her like prey and attack without much warning! The walking was tough going but thankfully she boarded the plane with very practical shoes, at least she had that as a reassuring thought in her head. After what felt like hours, she could no longer see the beach, but still she was not really sure where she was heading. Sophia came to the conclusion that at the base of the mountains would be a good place to find a river, lake or something. After seconds of that going through her head, she heard a noise that scared her. It was not something any one would expect to hear. It was a roar, like large pieces of metal being twisted with force. Then it happened again, it was no animal, the third time she not only heard a roar but massive footsteps heading towards her. Now she ran as fast as she could away from whatever the hell was getting close to her.

After ten minutes of painful running, her ankles finding it difficult on the jungle floor, she turned back in the hope of seeing nothing. It was then while she was looking back, but still running forward, she ran into a strong steel fence. It hurt and perhaps something rude was said out loud. Two thoughts entered her head at the same time, being why the hell would anyone put a fence in the middle of nowhere and this is the hoped-for sign of humanity. She gathered herself together, the pain in her ankles and legs plus the lack of any evidence of a predator trying to make a snack of her, meant she could slow down and follow the fence. She hoped to find someone, but would settle for a gate, after 10 or so minutes she found a place where with a little digging she could crawl under the fence. Of course, a fence is for keeping things in or out, with the last chase still causing her pain, she logically concluded she belonged on the other side. As she made it under successfully, she was content to leave whatever it was on their side.

After catching her breath, she got up, although she could not see anything else of human civilization, there was an embankment that she would have to climb. With all the force she had left, she threw herself at it and started with a determination to reach the top. This perhaps was not the most graceful way of doing it, she reached the top, laid on her front and then ungracefully spun her legs around and up. It was then she noticed buildings, with the energy she had left she shouted Hello. After a short wait and no reply, she repeated, Hello, can anyone hear me? Again, no reply. Fine, she thought to herself ‘I will have to go find someone myself, there are no would be rescuers around. She approached one large single-story building, it was old and not in the best condition. The heat and humidity had caused some damage, she found a door and turned the handle hoping that it was not locked. It was unlocked, but swollen into the frame, with some force she was able to open it. Slowly at first, but then in one big rush it opened, hitting the wall and causing Sophia to fall. Twice in one day she had found herself looking like a bit of an idiot. Kind of lucky that no one was around, and as she brushed herself off, again, she looked down the hallway. It looked like no one had been here for a while, but at least, perhaps, she could find something to drink and eat or just anything at this point.

As Sophia walked through the rooms, she encountered broken old computers, phones that did not work, some written papers but long since too degraded to provide any useful information. She then walked into a canteen, tables and chairs were still set out, trays had been left on them. She looked towards the kitchen which like the rest of the building had become dark as the sun was setting. It was then she found a door. She had to use her sleeve to wipe away the dirt off the sign, it read ‘Pantry. She was hoping to find something as she pushed the door open, luckily there were tins of food. With the light fading, she grabbed one, next she tried to find something to open it with. Opening cupboards and draws until finally a weird object was found that looked like it could open a big tin of… whatever was inside. With some difficulty she managed to open it a little, it smelt fine and kind of sweet. After the arduous opening, the prize was hers. A tin of peaches. She drank the juice first and then ate some slices using her fingers. It was just when she found such comfort that she heard a door slam shut down one of the corridors. She jumped as another slammed down a corridor in a different direction, she could just about make out which corridors the noises came from. Then just as she approached the centre of the canteen, she heard one of the draws open in the kitchen and the contents of the draw being thrown out of it. She ran into the kitchen, but saw no one, she knew she heard it, but that was the only evidence she had.

With some caution, she made her way back to the open tin of peaches. She smelt it again, the smell and look did not suggest that they had gone off and caused her to hallucinate. As she walked back into the middle of the canteen a single light down a different corridor came on, she moved slowly towards it, now she was freaking out! A moment later, she heard someone talking behind her. As she turned, she jumped as a man was standing there with an expression of pure rage on his face.
You need to leave, now he said without raising his voice.
… I was just looking for some help and… , before Sophia could finish, she heard more voices behind her, which snapped her back to looking at the corridor but she saw nothing. When she turned back towards the man, he was gone. No sign of him being present was left, no footsteps, no anything. In a flash the whole building changed, the building looked new, people were walking about, sitting at tables eating and having discussions. She slowly turned in amazement to see everything as it once had been when in full use although no one paid her any attention. After a few seconds the building returned to a lifeless decaying state. Sophia heard laughing, but she was unsure where it was coming from. She required no more motivation; she ran once again; she found a way out and found herself in an outside courtyard. It was at this moment a sudden rush of pain pulsed throughout her body. Followed by a sudden flash of light. To the observer Sophia vanished, the place remained as it had been, decaying and assumingly ‘abandoned with no hint of anyone around.

@AmalieAnne

Hey there Ames xx

Loving your beautiful profile picture xx

Sorry I haven't been around much, life has been busy and things happening and some things triggering.

But I don't forget you xx

How are you feeling? I saw in. Your post you hadn't been feeling well, I hope you're better. Are you still in lock down, or have they allowed things to ease some?

I think we're on level 3, still need to wear face masks everywhere and sanitizer put on, temp screening etc.

How you doing kiddo?

Their Stories; Conclusions [Instalment Seven]
There are many other stories that could be told, each individual one, would result in some very unique journey towards the same ending. What follows next is most likely known to you, on Thursday 6th August, this morning, a plane took off. After approximately four hours later that plane crashed into the sea, despite some being able to survive for a short time, it is with sadness that I report there were no survivors. All hands, including crew died within a few moments of each other, this is their shared connection. They left people they loved and they were missed by the people that knew them. Those that in the final few moments of the flight knew they were about to die do not have stories to tell. Others though, did, you have only followed five of them. That is not to say there arent more. Their fate has found its own way to where it needs to be, one cannot simply change their or others fate.

Danieles Story
Daniele, Lucies mother, had never forgiven herself about allowing Lucie to travel alone. By the time she arrived at this place her daughter had been dead for many years. To only add to the guilt, after hearing what happened to her daughter, she found Musco, Lucies teddy. It was with sadness only a mother could have, she thought she had failed to provide comfort in her daughters death. Both Daniele & Lucie had just arrived, time was of little consequence here. Before her eagerness took hold, she had spoken to Jeff. Words of comfort were offered, but he suggested talking to two people. As Jeff told her where to find them, he walked towards his next duty, a woman who seemed to be called Claire. Daniele, Musco in tow, as she never had thrown him out, went to talk to the older couple. She found them with ease and they both told Daniele about how they wished they had children of their own, even grandchildren, but never had the opportunity to have that sort of family.

They were very much aware of Lucies distress after the crash; they both felt the need to comfort her while she was alone. Determined that they would never let her go through this by herself, by this I refer to Lucie dying. Lucie died shortly after waking up on the floating wing of the plane. It was with great joy they could be there for her. As they told Daniele about their efforts, she began to cry. Still, they assured her that Lucie was now in need of her and she should go see her. From Danieles perspective, it had been over 30 years since she last held Lucie. As she walked to the hospital, she was directed by inner forces towards her daughter and then there she was. She held back the tears as one of the nurses told her that Lucie required some sleep to restore her from the negative and conflicting thoughts about both of her parents. The physical wounds would and were just manifestations of the past which would dissolve quickly, so she should not be concerned with them. As Daniele approach Lucie she could see her child lost and confused, as she approached Lucie called out Mummy. Daniele told Lucie to sleep, she placed Musco in her bed and stroked her hair. As Lucie fell asleep Daniele started to cry, not out of guilt, remorse or anger but joy of having her daughter back.

Claires story
Claire had also been on the same plane; the only difference was that she knew she was about to die. Rather than having a story of her own Claire simply arrived at this place. She came to this place knowing but when she got here, she was told of her husband Timothy. As they both boarded the plane, Claire was stressed because Tim was suffering from severe dementia. He was both scared and confused at what was happening. He had been suffering with memory loss for many years while Claire slowly saw her husband Tim was slowly fading in front of her. The memory of Jeff, as a friend, had been forced into Tims mind to help him feel more comfortable. It worked, although Tim did not recognise Claire as his wife, Jeff said that given time his memories would be restored. It was fun though to see Tim with a childlike energy, he had always been that way before the dementia tried to steal who he was. Claire was also new to this place, so their excursion to the lake was a new experience for them both. Feeling safe in Jeffs guidance, when Claire was rather rudely pushed into the lake, she could not help but laugh to herself. The fact that after a while Tim joined her in the fun was a sign that perhaps he was starting to remember a little of her.

As all three of them walked pass the hospital Lucie spotted them through a window, she saw two men and a woman, but one of the men had concern and perhaps a little fear on his face. The other man quickly directed him away and Lucie could see the joy returning to his face. They were walking to Claires and Tims house, as Jeff had warned it might be better to wait until Tims memories had been restored, at least in part. The flashes Tim had, was him simply seeing an observation of his own dead body after the crash. This too would fade as the memories came back and accepting what happened became real. After some more cups of tea something clicked inside Tim and he knew who Claire was, Jeff almost instinctively started some music, as they started to dance around. This for Claire was perhaps too emotional, she really did have her husband back and for that reason alone she also felt childlike and blissful. I only know a little more of what else happened, but their house soon stopped being Tims house and started to be their home. Jeff, took his leave at this point and left Claire and Tim in a slow dance, knowing that he and this place had done its job.

Concluding Maries Story
It would not be right to force everyone into a position in which they had to forget their old lives and simply get on with it, that was no ones aim. Before this becomes confusing it is important to note something, what is real to someone else is real, even if it is not real to you. Marie disembarked the plane as did everyone else, the experience she had on the island with Earharts plane, was still very real to her. As she moved through life, she would often look at the label she found in her pocket after her dream-adventure. In fact, she had framed it as a reminder that the whole event happened, it brought excitement even if it was just an illusion of sorts. Still, that encounter if we could call it that, drove Marie to become first a pilot, then a wife, mother and in the later years working on projects in space exploration before finally becoming a flight director. She had lived a full and meaningful life despite the fact she died when the plane crashed. Perhaps you consider all this some sort of an illusion, as something that never happened, that was never real but to Marie it was. They existed for Marie therefore, the only logical conclusion was it all existed.

So why did she end up on that island, with Amelia Earharts plane, well… you might have noticed that things tend to be somewhat difficult and Jeff along with his colleagues often need a little time to create a space. The space for Marie to live so, she was taken to Amelia Earharts plane while she was on her own doomed plane, it was a rather nice distraction, a time which the rest of her life could be worked out. For this is what needed to happen. As Marie got older and became a grandmother for the fourth time, she was often asked about the label. It was now kind of a funny family story, ‘The adventures of Dr C H Berrys Freckle ointment cream. Marie found that her grandchildren were both bemused and amused by it, the story they thought had been made up. Still, it had actually happened and by now Marie knew that she was coming towards the end of her life. Later on, shortly after her 96th Birthday she joined the others who had been on that plane. Having led a very fulfilling life that contained her hard work, dreams, wishes and love. A life certainly worth making time and space for.

Concluding Sophias Story
Jeff would like me to point out he had no involvement in this one, Sophia was certainly too stubborn for him in any case. When Sophia vanished after a flash of light she went to another place, one where she could explore. This time she taught herself some of the skills required, like how to start a fire. Then she moved again, in time she could choose when and where she wanted to go. It did not take long before Sophia became and felt comfortable being an explorer like the ones of the past with beasties and all. After her first experience with the large beast and the ghosts she gave up on small partly indigenous groups preferring to explore the world as a ‘true explorer. She became fond of peaches although eating insects was certainly never going to be on the menu. She enjoyed this travelling, rather than thinking about what or how things were happening, she just got enjoyment from it. Meeting with people, exploring vast underground caves and seeing things very few people could ever see.

The first experience, the one with the beast of sorts chasing her and the perhaps ghosts, did not put her off at all. She often went back, but this time to annoy them, they soon became completely fed up with her, but then again, perhaps they should have not tried to scare her in the first place. In the end they came to an agreement that she would stop annoying them if they made a formal apology. One day she will meet the others that were on the plane, it will come, but for now she was just doing her own thing. Directed only by herself, of course, remember that time is more an issue for the living than those that have died. Time didnt matter and when the time did come for her to finally stop exploring, she will join the rest. They will know her as arriving at the same time they did, being somewhat confused as they are but being a much more independent person. In control and having done what in death, she could not do in life. We do know, however, the last adventure she had and it was one that Jeff certainly was grateful in handing over. You see Sophia had been in so many situations and met so many different people all who thought in a slightly different way, not only could she tell stories to the others for years but also help Albert.

Sophias Last Adventure
Perhaps calling it an adventure is the wrong word, last mission might be a better description. She like all the others had been connected to each other as soon as they boarded the plane, they were destined to share their deaths. Albert story was unpleasant to say the least, but Sophia was determined that some progress should be made. At the start Albert would shout ‘Go away leave me alone, this might have scared Sophia before her many adventures, but the small little creature called Albert was far from impressive or scary. No one knows what she said, but she must have been convincing, slowly Albert would take down the wooden planks that were nailed to the windows. A small but significant step, next he would come outside into the cold dark village. Still, only for a little while before running back in. This progress itself was long and still ongoing, Albert has at least made it half way to more friendly places before turning back. Jeff had never seen such a creature like Albert change so quickly. Sophia was determined that one day he would join the rest of them, but it would always be small steps until Albert found it within himself to forgive and in a weird way, despite being dead, to live.

Did Lucie become an artist? Well, those and all the other questions that might be in your mind wont be answered, that would certainly be telling. Let it be said that there are many more stories to be experienced, many more to be written, who knows what each story contains and which ending might appear. We might not be able to change our fate, but we can change the way we get there. That human determination, perhaps even free will, can be found in what has not already been written. This is our challenge, choose your journey carefully because it is the one that you will have to experience. This story ends not like many others, it started with a group of random people, which a single event connected them. Although this is not really the end, remember those connections, never mind how weak, will always be there. That is all the hope I can give you. Thank you for reading their stories.

This version of the afterlife here is closely linked to the version presented in ‘The World Unseen written by Anthony Borgia, although he was incredibly boring, it was something that stuck with me.

I thought that I draw that a little bit better, now I am doing it again because I had touching cottonwool

They both are gorgeous, Ame! Thank you for sharing with us. You inspired me to try drawing too but I only managed to scribble some stick people and other simple stuff that I was taught in the kindergarten. 🤭

You have been in my thoughts. How are you?

I have some spacesuit hugs waiting for you, if you would like them. 🙃

https://i.ibb.co/3p5YSzh/IMG-20180824-WA0000.jpg

I am going back to school on Monday, my school is not that big but it is kind of scary because my bestest friend will not be there this year. Neither will be my bestest teacher because she is looking after my God Sister. So, we have a plan and if the worst happens, they will call mommy. Since she drives very fast it will not take her long to recuse me. Still, going to try my best to be brave and not be too scared while trying to do the plan of little achievements rather than a very big scary one.

Haven at Night

As she opens the large envelope and turns it upside down the contents at first do not fall, with a little shake a flurry of things spread themselves across the table. She checks to make sure everything has made its timely exit and then puts the large envelope to one side. Not content at the random nature of which things have landed, a quick organisation is required. Each put in place as if it were to be examined by an official archaeologist inspecting such things. First, there are smaller letters each holds the thoughts of others and the replies to questions sent to them in a different large envelope which she filled what feels like a very long time ago. The letters are important but other artefacts take her interest first. A receipt for a bridge, made of wood and costing a large sum of money. Some would say a fortune even if she says that now out loud the money has been spent. A train ticket with two cities which she knows, now she thinks to herself the bridge was actually rather cheap. An empty packet of seeds, the seeds have been planted and already grown but just the thought of broad beans growing and being eaten is not pleasant. The empty packet though makes for interesting reading. Perhaps one day she thinks, she might be old enough to consider growing and eating them.

A long piece of wool from a large ball ready to be used but still requiring approval is closely examined, does it have the required colours and thickness? I guess so, her reply will be in the return envelope once her fingers are feeling a bit better. Next, a postcard with a picture of some unknown, to be explored church in Italy and on the reverse, it has been left blank. Postcards which have not been filled in, are kind of lonely things but she appreciates the effort and the thought of adding it to her collection feels her with a sense of satisfaction. Another place she has to visit in the future has been added to the collection. It was a sunny day when they took that picture which can almost be felt through the postcard itself. A small book written by someone unknown of prayers and other ‘godly’ things to do, it was published without the author caring to place their name on it. She does not often pray perhaps because she feels that God is not out there but in here. She will put that with her grandfather’s shaving brush in the orange box. He stopped using the shaving brush many years ago despite his hair migrating from the top of his head further south. Still, he kept it and now she thinks it might one day have some use, perhaps it has a use now but she cannot see it.

Finishing the investigation of the artefacts though important less significant to be written here, she turns to the letters. Three in total, she knows that one of these was written under duress and that her sister who sent the rail ticket required some focused annoying in order to get her to write back. She knows who wrote the first, the smell of it reminds her of home and of course the colour of the paper, although making it difficult to read, was known to bring a different warmth than the postcard. The second was easy, the terrible handwriting was a clear indication it was written by her brother. Why do doctors train to write in such a manner that it makes it appear as though it were written on a rocket heading towards the moon? The third, that was the one written under duress of course because the person who would normally write it is no longer here. She misses the long-held communications written by a man whose business was to write formally and quite proper. She never the less, appreciates having it despite knowing it will only have half the information required to know what is going on. She reminds herself that this is her way, she is used to doing things rather than writing about them. She places all three unopened letters in front of her, while returning the precious artefacts back into the large envelope, to be later sorted. If nothing else that in a hundred years it will make the job easier for the archaeologist to examine them.

Do not be fooled this process his long and happens with some hope every month. Now she thinks to herself she does not know which letter to open. Still, the sadness of her grandfather’s bulky pages and perfect handwriting is noticeably missing. Few know how to write in such a way, in a way that makes sure if questioned later people would assume you had been there. A missing letter from a missing writer, a part of her missing. She starts to feel heaviness in her head in just thinking about something she never wants to believe or even feel. So, she puts the letters back in the large envelope and takes out the prayer book. It might not be interesting at all but at least it reminded her of church, the dull procedural nature of it all brings some comfort. In her mind, she starts to write the letter to the missing author, the one with good handwriting, her grandfather. She writes in her head,

Dear Papa,

Please forgive, as normal, the mistakes. I am having trouble thinking in one language or in a manner that makes sense to others. How is it that your handwriting is so neat when my brother’s handwriting is not? Did you miss the class in school that trained you in the bad handwriting or did you simply believe it to be nonsense? I know the answer to that if I am honest, you never paid attention to such nonsense but it is still, I think, an interesting question. If I am being honest, I really miss you and I am not sure how things work without you being here. For me or Mama… Would you recommend that I stay away from board beans, they do not sound nice at all and to be honest most things green tend to only attract the taste of oldies?

She leaves it there, for now at least because the tears are starting to form. This letter will be written on the best paper, sealed with wax with ‘A’ imprinted in it and of course in the most delicately neat handwriting she can manage. Still, this letter will never be sent, it will find its way to the orange shoebox. It is hoped the archaeologist examining the shoe boxes in a hundred years will understand why it was placed in the orange one rather than the blue one. Perhaps the expert will know how important it is, at least to the girl who wrote it. Perhaps, even know how much sadness it brings.

She now gets ready because she has a lesson and needs to change into her school uniform. With the hope that she can just get lost in her music rather than blurt out swear words at her mistakes. Please forgive me, as normal, the mistakes. I am having trouble thinking in one language or in a manner that makes sense to others.