Dearest Friend.

[A woman standing in the hallway of a high school. The school is empty and dark. The sun covered by the clouds, and the wind howling through the trees. She walks along the pathway leading her to the classrooms. She runs her hands against the doors of the lockers. She feels sudden pull toward the locker on the end. Number 25. She runs to the locker, then stops. Standing in the shadows she breathes slowly, staring at the locker. Locked. She pulls a key from her pocket, and opens the lock. She opens the locker breathing heavier than before. Looking inside she finds old pictures of herself and an old friend. Not just photos from when they were at school, but after as well. She sees the mirror stuck to the inside of the locker door and looks into it. Her face is as old as she feels. She spots a folder piece of paper on the bottom shelf of the locker. She picks it up and unfolds the paper. She realises it is the letter she had written to a friend a long time ago.]

[Dearest Friend,
I’m not sure on how much you know of what I am about to say in this letter, but I hope that this will be something that you will always remember.
Life has a tendency to grip us by the throat and throw everything in our way. I know that we haven’t spoken in a long time, or seen each other. But something you have to know is how much I care for you. Distance or time is nothing because you will always be one of my dearest friends. I need you to know that no matter where life takes you, I will be here for you. Always. I need you to know that if it weren’t for you, I would not be the person I am today. I remember when we were teenagers. God. We were so young. We would talk about life like it was not a problem for us, because we had each other. Everyday at school we had each others backs like no one else. You were the only reason why I enjoyed going to school. You stood up for me when no one did. When I couldn’t even do it myself. At the time I thought that is what people do. But I realised it was just my best friend sticking up for me. I have never come across another best friend who has stood up for me the way you did. In a way it sounds sad, because I know that no one out there cares enough. But in the most important way possible it is special, because you are the most loving and caring friend who has entered my life that has changed me. I am stronger and independent. I looked to you as my rock. And now I can be my own rock. When we laughed, we couldn’t stop laughing, when we cried we couldn’t stop crying, when we got angry we would rant and rage out for hours, and when we would talk about ourselves we listened to each other. Time has passed. But my love for our friendship will never fade. I see you know, and I feel privileged to even have been one of your best friends, and that you consider me as a friend. You have become even more stronger, more beautiful, more yourself. You have grown into an amazing incredible young woman. My heart is filled with nothing but joy and happiness for you, and your life. This isn’t something that I wanted to just write for you on this occasion, but something I always think about. We have grown, as people separately, but we began growing together. I’m sure we will catch up on life soon. But for now I hope you felt something of the many words I have placed in this letter.
Love from,
Your dearest Friend.]

[The woman puts the letter down as tears flood from her eyes. She tries to take a deep breathe through the tears, but they are to strong that she falls to the floor crouched down with the letter in her hand. After a few moments she has the strength to get up. She holds onto the bottom shelf of the locker, with tears still falling from her eyes. She looks up into the mirror on the back of the locker door. To her surprise she is as young as when she wrote the letter. 21 to be exact. She wipes the tears from her eyes, cleaning off her face thinking that it is her imagination. She looks again there she is as young as ever. She looks around and finds the sky is a blue and clear as a summers day, and the sun shining on her. She thinks to herself: “This can’t be real.” She looks at the time and date on her watch to find her watch had gone, and it was the watch her mother had given her for her 21st birthday that she had lost a year later. Shocked her first thought and words out of her mouth is: “There’s still time.” She runs off leaving the letter behind in the opened locker.] 






4:04am – Joe: Tired and restless.
I feel like everything around me is closing in.
I know there is no escape from this place.
It has consumed me.
I can’t see the way out, and there is nothing around but pure emptiness.
I hear sounds of the wind blowing outside the window, and the tree rustling.
There is a small object in front of me, it feels like a box.
I have never been so alone, and yet so close to something at the same time.
I am holding onto it for dear life.
If I hold onto it, maybe it will take me away from this place.
I can’t move, or feel anything towards anything that is out there anymore.
If nothing is there, then maybe I am not really here.
It is all a dream, or it is all a reality.
I hold onto whatever is left of what I have.
[Something outside the window falls. It hits the window, breaking it. The wind blow through the broken window. Joe pushes the covers away from his head. He gets up and walks towards the broken glass. He steps on glass but does not react. He feels the breeze run through him. He looks up onto the sky. The moon is shining bright.]
I can finally feel the light.

When my eyes are closed

Girl’s sister: “Hey have you seen my sister? She has been gone for a while?
Friend: “Hey! Oh yeah, she left a.. uh.. don’t really know how long? Maybe I should go look for her.”

[Girl’s friend walks out of the pub and around the area trying to spot the girl out. He finds her sitting on a bench near the pub. Her eyes are closed.]
Friend: “Hey there you are!”
Girl: “Shh”
He pauses.
Girl: “Can you feel it?”
Friend: “Feel what?”
Girl: “The pain. That is all I can feel. I feel it around me like the world is being consumed by it. Like everything is turning itself inside out. I can hear it. I can hear the pain in my head. My own mostly. It comes at different points. Mostly at the smallest thing, at the most ‘normal’ times. When I sit on the train. When I watch TV. When I lay in bed. It’s hard to snap out of you know? I can stand there and not even notice that I am crying. Just standing in the crowd staring into nothing. Other times when I am with friends it becomes something that I have to fight to hide. But I must be good at it. Because no one seems to ever know. Most of the time though I don’t hide it, but you all ignore it. I can sit there for hours. And no one will ever ask. When my eyes are closed is when I feel the tears run down my face, and I tell myself that it is normal to cry. When my eyes are closed there is a comfort in the darkness. It is a darkness that I can control. It holds me until I am ready to open my eyes and see light again. I can talk to myself and be my own therapist. Because I would never actually tell you these things.”

[Girl opens her eyes, and her friends isn’t there. She walks back to the pub in which she left and finds her friend.]
Friend: “Hey! I was just about to look for you! Your sister was getting worried.”
Girl: Yeah I know, just went out for a smoke.