Diary

I am a little hurt, you know. I knew you don't. But if I tell you, you are going to be hurt. I don't want that. I thought finally, you are going... are going to say, but you didn't. Don't know why? But we love each other, but can't tell... I cry sometimes, away from everyone, locking myself in my room. My parents are good to me. They didn't say anything, nor did they do anything to hurt me. They wished me a happy life. Even if I say I loved you in front of my parents, and say I can't live without you. They automatically agree to whatever I want. Still, it's lonely.

Even if they cared about me, even if my brother fight with everyone for me. Still, it's lonely, you know.

I am writing this, and at the same time, I am crying too.... how funny. If you know this, I am sure you will burst into laughter. If you make fun of me and knew I am hurt, even then you continued, I am not going to talk to you again.

I am afraid. I want to tell you every little what I am feeling right now. I wish, you could always be by my side. I heard some girl fall off a cliff. They say it's so bad that they didn't let many people see the girl's body.

Noke... you don't know how much I want to be with you. Even if I am afraid, when I think of you, all my fear vanishes. But I started to cry sometimes thinking, I can't be with you.

I am good for the time being, and I can be with you; even if we share those moments as classmates. I am happy that you were with me, Noke.

Noke, I am good now. It's due to that incident, that I started to feel fear in my heart. Tomorrow is a holiday so I can't meet you and after that day they let it off. May the girl rest in peace...

My parents said that I don't have to go to school for a week. I argue, and they finally let me go.

I am a kind of boss in my house, Noke they listen to me. When I marry, you have to listen to me.

Noke, I am a selfish type, but please, if I am lost in the future... find me, because if you don't, I don't know what I am going to do.

Noke, remember I love you more than anything. Even if I have to kill myself for you, I will do it. I am kind of afraid of killing, but .... if it is for you, u bet I will do it.

Noke, if you are reading this, remember I love you and will love you for the rest of my life and afterlife and afterlife... OK.

...

Shirley closes her diary after writing about all the frustration she feels after coming to her home. Not all the thoughts are written as it exposes too many of her inner secret, though she can cope with that but some things are left unsaid, unwritten, unknown. She isn't much into the diary, to write her stuff. But when she feels like it, she writes in her diary, the one; her father gifted her on her 15th birthday. She hadn't filled it out yet. She rarely wrote anything in it.

But all the things she writes, are from her own heart. The things she can't tell to anyone.

Shirley thinks it's okay to sometimes write the stuff they are going through. She didn't believe in it at first herself. The diary was left there in one of the wardrobes. But one day, when she is too sad. She locks herself in her room and then writes the very first page of her life, the very first page of her own life. She feels like she had shared her feelings with someone.

After that day, whenever she feels like writing, she writes it, in it.

...

One thing led to another, from not writing anything, now she writes herself, that she doesn't want anyone to find out. She had written it. She knows the diary isn't going to tell anyone, but she had to keep her diary safe. Away from anyone, even her stupid big brother. So, she locks herself whenever she writes to not let anyone know she keeps a diary.

Curiosity can even kill God. They are powerful, but they are still mortal in God's eyes.

...

Done with her writing and hiding the diary, Shirley walks out of her room.

Her behavior is completely different in the institute and her home. It can be said a difference between the black sea and the islands. She is more of a reserved type in the institute while a chill and carefree type in her home, mainly because of a sense of belonging and, because she is doted on by her family. Every wish of hers, they try to make it real. But she knows her family's condition so she didn't demand much, that her family can't fulfill it.

Her mother is only the one currently home with her. Her brother, Klaus, comes late, playing outdoors most of the time. It's 5 pm. So, her father is coming home soon. When she is out of her room, she sees her mother sitting comfortably without any worries.

"Mom"

"Shirley. Hmm. Your eyes." Moving out of her comfortable position, she looks into Shirley's swallowed eyes.

"You cried, didn't you?" Shirley's mother gently held her face, her expression filled with concern. She asked, peering into Shirley's eyes, searching for any sign of distress. In response, Shirley met her mother's gaze and replied with a carefree smile, as if to brush off the weight of the moment.

"Mom, it's nothing you think, I am fine, only a little sleepy. Nothing more." letting go of her mother's hands and came to sit on one of the chairs in the hall.

" Shirley, you can't lie to me, I told you, not too afraid of that accident."

Before she could say more, Shirley walked over to her mother, cradling her face in between both hands, as though holding a baby.

"Mom... you are too sentimental. Oh, my dear mother, don't be crybaby." Shirley's mother's face was gently held between her daughter's hands, and her lips protruded playfully. Witnessing this, Shirley laughs, and her mother couldn't help but break into a smile.

They continued their conversation for some time, and soon after, her father and brother returned as well.

...

Sitting at the dining table, Shirley's father looked at his daughter with concern

" Shirley, your mother talked to me. You cried today." Shirley glanced towards her mother as if questioning her mom,' I said you I am fine, but u have to tell father.'

" You don't have to go to if you don't want to. Or, Klaus can drop you at the institute and come home back."

"Klaus, can you do that?"

"Consider it done, father. What do you think, sister? If your friends know that I am coming with you. They are going to go all over themselves"

"As if they are dying for you."

"You bet?"

"Too funny brother... brother, you said you would bring your girlfriend to meet me. When are you going to bring her?"

"Sh... Shirley" he tugged at his little sister.

Shirley's father interjected: "Okay, so it's decided."

They continue to discussed their daily life with each other, like most of the family do. Yet she forgets to ask the more pressing matter she promised to convey to her beloved.

*** "Humans have the tendency to fight among themselves until another external threat arises, whether it be another human race or something beyond human. Humans are like bacteria, spreading unless someone finds a cure for that. If it doesn't come, they take whatever is left behind and start consuming their own race to fill or to grow more."***

Here, the islanders are aware of the external threat, so they live happily with each other, and striving to live in warmth, whatever little life they have; on these islands. If calls come, they have to go.

....

After spending quality time together following dinner, Shirley's parents walk to their respective rooms and discuss the day's events, things they can't share with their children.

Klaus is on his bed, engrossed in conversation with islander girls over the handset. He continues chatting until midnight or sometimes opts for a night out with his friends—a lifestyle with minimal sleep, as he wishes to make the most of his last year. Aware; it's the final year of his secure, childlike life.

...

Shirley walks to her room, and the things she wanted to do, or she thought she would do, are now on hold for the next day.

This is because of the accident and the feelings she recently shared with the diary. She now feels empty, at the same time remembering her childhood. She recalls her family care, and tonight's talk: 'from now on her brother is going with her to school.' She laughs at her family's decisions; she isn't a child anymore' she says to herself. If she had said anything against her brother going with her, she knows the next day she would be standing in front of the institute, her father by her side. A bit crazy, or can be said overprotective family. And she loves this unusual part most about her family.

She got everything she wanted; more like a princess. She feels the same when she is a child, and now, when she is in her teenage years. Though she is reaching close to 16, only a year left for entrance, finally reaching the standard of adulthood set in this world.

As a child, she got in touch with a book: about an unknown princess. Being treated like a princess, she thinks of herself in that book; she read it, and it is still with her. She sits comfortably on her bed, looking the book in her hand and thinking the time when she first read it. After reading, she didn't want the story to rehearse her life, but she wants to be like that princess.

...

It's the story of a princess. Can she be called a real princess? She is like everyone, an ordinary girl. But what makes her the princess: It is the way she led her life, the way she loved her lover.

It is said that the book was written by the princess herself and in her original text she didn't call herself a princess, it's the latter generation that uses the title- princess - to describe her. Her original text existed in the safe place it should be. Only a copy of the original text is circulated in the market, going through many rephrases by different authors.

Her name is unknown, the same with everyone she mentioned. Only the events remain, the truth she wants to tell the world, the story of her beloved. The editors edit the story to make it more reproachable, changing her unknown name or, in a different sense giving her a name, Princess.

The story remains what it is. Only the character comes to life as a princess.

It's the story that every girl has read in her life.

...

We lived together, not officially married but living a life, more off a couple. Everything was fine: family, friends and us too. But things changed, the way we never thought of. It's my fault, but my beloved didn't wish to blame me. He took the matter into his hand; he shouldn't have. If at that time, I had sacrifice myself, maybe he should have lived a happy life, like all the people who are living today. I don't know how much time I have, but before that, I want to share his life, our story. He isn't what most people make him out to be; he never was. He was kind, loving, and he cares, not only about me – but about the world itself.

Why did things happen to be like this? It's not his fault; he is the same as all of you are. He lost too many things; and he didn't want more to lose.

I remembered the day when those persons of high clans tried to sexually abuse me. I somehow escape from their grasp and came home. At first, I didn't want to tell him what happened to me, but then I told him everything. I still curse myself for telling him. The future may have differed, if I haven't told him about the incident. Everything changed before I came to know.

Our friends work at different stores; they saw him going by different streets with unnatural face and body language. They told me the state he is in. We searched, but he didn't come home until midnight. He was afraid, shaking, and ... lost. I... I never saw him like this in my whole life. He was afraid and crying inside. Looking at him like that, I didn't know what to do. I only mustered the strength to walk and hug him, thinking it might comfort him. He cried loudly and dropped to his knees, remaining there crying aloud. That day, I came to know, what it is to be a man: to be strong whatever the situation is. It's hard... to look strong, being rotten inside. Later he said the things - he had done, when we were surrounded by our family.

It's all my fault. He said he killed all the people, the ones I mentioned. He said he didn't want to-do, but it happened. I still wish I could have cut my own throat before telling him all the details. He lost himself that night; the kind, caring, loving... human. He lost all human emotion; we sew it in his blank eyes. The lost look ....

..

Comforting him through love, creasing his hair: hugged by each family member, telling him it's not his fault; they deserve it, for what they had done. We handle him, the environment bloomed again. Everything settled for the time being.

"The upper Alcon is hunting the criminal but can't find the one. Things seem to be going in a better direction. However, the truth can't be hidden for long; they know what he had done and tried to kill him. At the same time, floods came across the world. We all know the time of catastrophic events. I didn't want to say that we face more difficulty than most people, but I know we are the only ones who are outcasted. We remain in those floods, not knowing how much. Clinging to the last hope or being the hope for each other, not letting our weaknesses cast shadows on one another."

Those days in those flooded cities and whatnot, he... he is the one who carries the flags for freedom and to live a life of self. This is what most know, but he said he is carrying all the hope because he wants me to live happily, in a world where we aren't loathed and chased like dog.

It sounded like, I am trying to frame myself as some kind of a pious person, but he treats me like that, knowing fully.

Many people see him in the light of holy, not knowing what he is going through - venerable all the time, not to let down any hope people put on his shoulder.

He talks about how much he was afraid if he can't fulfill the people's hopes. Ups and downs in life make it more a devastated journey, celebrating the ups with the people, and loathing the down. As we celebrate- or can't be said celebrating, more like sharing those up and down with each other - away from all the people, and on those hazy nights. The journey continues, and as every journey has an end, our journey end is the first island we crossed paths to.

In the end, we came to realize it isn't the end, but the starting of everything not for us, but for him.

A destiny play unfolds before of my eyes. The initial island, the people, and, most significantly, both him and me, who carved the path for a little life in our bodies to create those roads. At the end of the road, destiny graces us with God's rule and the people who chase us.

When I am going to meet him, we are going to have a full conversation along with some fine tea.

An inevitable circle, neither we can blame them, nor do they need an excuse to not let us come near the shore. The drastic journey start, going from one island to another. Fighting the threat of losing the mind, people, and dark inhabitants. He, who is fighting with the destroying world and its habitants, and in some sense fighting with the being who led all these things.

We didn't choose, neither we created the road, we don't have the choice, either killed - doing nothing or moving forward.

We are fighting for a safe place, but all the pressure he is carrying, changes that fighting to killing. We see him in that transition; slowly. He can't be blamed for this, I tried to not let him slip his worth in his eyes.

I remember the words he said, " I am not worthy of you." Before we reach our journey end, which is in all a play and the player who play all the scenarios, you know it all who is the main player.

What I can do? All I can do is just stand in front of Him. Gazing into his eyes, at that time, I didn't know what those eyes say, but now I know; he knows what is coming.

He brushed me off from the path that led to his demise, walking to face death.

...

...

I wept; he gently smiles.

As our journey reached its inevitable conclusion, God bestowed upon us a parting gift.

Not playing the part, the play which playfully crafted by Him; destined from the very beginning, we suffered, anguish hatred in our hearts.

Only He and Him; aware, one killed other vanishes. We foolish, left alone; blaming.

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