“Dreams are illustrations from the book your soul is writing about you.” –Marsha Norman
Elena’s P.O.V:
It’s been past 5:00 PM; Emma has left for her meeting with the financers of the college event. She has been working so hard lately and here I am sitting on this arm chair doing nothing but watching the view of the park through my window. William Shakespeare’s famous play; A Midsummer Night Dream is resting on the small coffee table beside the chair along with my laptop and a hot cup of coffee. I don’t like hot coffee, I love to make it hot but I drink it when it’s cool down. Weird ? I know.
I let out a sigh and grab my laptop from the coffee table and place it on my thighs. I click on the folder “Diary” and start typing. I always have such a tough time explaining how I feel. I don’t trust people about my feelings, they are unreliable. I can’t even trust a real diary. The thought “What if someone reads it?” wouldn’t leave me alone for a second so a digital one is good. Secured by password.
I am tired. Tired of silence in my life. Same old routine. Meaningless dreams. Emma is always trying to control my life. She thinks I am weak. She thinks that the past has broken my soul completely. She thinks that I need her to survive. Well she is wrong. I just want to tell her that I don’t cry over stupid things now, I don’t care about my family. There I said it. Well there isn’t any family left though. I’ve changed myself, for good and for better. Emma always asks why I don’t call my family. Well here’s the answer I give a DAMN about them. Why should I care? They never cared about me. They always wanted a perfect piece of puzzle to fit in their Grayson jigsaw but such pity they got me a perfectly imperfect being. Anyways I just want to get away from their drama. I have to be independent but here’s the big news this is the most difficult task for me. Mr. and Mrs. Hunt don’t want me to do a job, and I can’t argue with them. They have done so much for me.
I stop typing as I hear sound of wind as it makes its way through small holes of the window’s ceiling. I place the laptop back at the coffee table and turn my torso to the left to look at the incomplete painting of my dream. A feeling of ecstasy is lurking in the pit of my stomach. I just don’t want to complete it. It just feels …ugh I don’t know. But whatever it is it’s not a good feeling. I pick up coffee cup and make my way towards the window leaning against the window frame. I move the thick curtain further aside to get a clearer look of the scene. The sun has started setting down impuring the blue sea of sky. The leaping greenery of trees is giving an odd chilly feeling. My eyes wonders as my fingers roam on the rim of cup. Something adorable caught my eye. A teenage couple. They look so in love as they walk hand in hand on the jogging track.
“Ever fall in love El?” Danny’s voice rang in voice.
“Love is for fools.”
I chuckle at the memory. We were repairing tree house when he asked me that. And my answer has somewhat shocked him. He is the kind of guy who can be a big flirt if he wants to but in person he truly believes in love. I just wish life wouldn’t show him the other side of love. Well in my case I never believed in fairy tales well I used to but not now. They are just lame. Every girl is a princes and all that bullshit. I just want to clap on the stupidity of those girls who believe that there is someone in this world who is just made for them, only for them. Someone who can go to any extent to make them his, he’ll do anything to make them smile and he’ll carve for their smile.
“Lord, what fools these mortals be!” I exclaimed and then smile as this thought crosses my mind that how I’ve used Puck’s line from A Midsummers Night’s Dream, my favorite play.
I think there is someone made for me but I don’t believe in that.What do you guys want me to believe that there is someone sitting somewhere thinking about me? Nah. This is no fairy tale, its life.
