The Potential of a Day

Epilogue

Epilogue

          I’m surprised the little ding isn’t familiar. The sound is so uplifting, hopeful, even. That I walked through that door almost every day, and didn’t even notice it, is utterly absurd. I shut up into myself, making myself comfortably oblivious to the rest of the world. Comfortable. That’s what I always was, comfortable with hating my life. How sad is it, that every day, I missed the sweet sound of that little chime? It could have been something to look forward to, if only I chose that path; a path of hopefulness. But how many other things didn’t I notice?

          I didn’t notice the little bell, above the door, trying to light my day, every day. I didn’t notice my best friend, struggling to try to find some way to help me. Didn’t even notice, when I walked in here that first day, that the boy I was staring at, the one, the only one to break my shell of oblivion, was looking my way as well. Maybe I did see it, maybe I saw the confused fear in his eyes, and I expected it was exactly the same expression everyone gave me. That expression of light judgement, slight fear, and absolute pity. Because they saw me, and they saw a dead thing; saw a depressed little girl whose sister died in a tragic accident. I never could have actually thought that his glance was different; because he actually thought I was a dead thing.

          “I’ll have a coffee,” I say, leaning against the counter. Kurt doesn’t recognize me, except for maybe a little surprise at seeing the girl who always sits in the corner, up to order, and rather upfront about it. I must admit though, the lack of memory, history, in his eyes makes me sad. But he isn’t the one I came looking for. He isn’t the one I’ve been dreaming about; isn’t the one I know will rip out my heart when I look into their eyes and see no recognition at all.

          Kurt, glancing at me and taking my money, makes me my drink. I take it straight; I want to taste the bitterness on my tongue, the bitter flavour everyone speaks of. Because I’ve never had coffee, and now that I’ve made a decision to stick around, I ought to get to attempting the completion of every tiny little task I can find.

          Because that’s life; the chimes of open doors, and the coffee in your cup.

          The little things. The new things. Because you have to at least try to experience everything you can; because maybe it’s just the slightest detail, that will change your life, and make it better, if even only a little.

          Turns out I don’t like coffee.

          But I sit down, and drink it all the same.

          And that’s when Leo Haines walks into the café. Leo, and all his beautiful smiles, his bright eyes, laughing expressions. The boy that for a moment, I thought I knew. Thought I knew, and absolutely loved my time thinking that. Because he made me happy, but more than that, he taught me that I could be happy.  

          He doesn’t know me. I couldn’t have expected him to; it was all in my head, even if some of it was loosely backed in reality. But despite knowing that his eyes would pass right over my head, his ignorance of me cuts deeper than a knife.

          Leo calls for Kurt; the boy’s shift is ending. The older boy claps Kurt on the shoulder, pushing him around amicably, just like he did in my hallucination. All of his mannerisms, exactly the same as what Sephie put into my head. The boy is making for the door, and I’m watching him go, with my heart dying in my chest.

          But then, I realize something.

          Decide something.

          I get to my feet.

          “Leo! Wait!”     

          Because every day has the potential, the potential to become the best day, of your entire life. But it can only live up to that potential, if you make the decision.

          The decision to stand up.

          And live.