Help

Help.
Such a simple word.
Four letters and a breath.
That’s all it takes.
Help.

But then, why can’t I say it?
I try and I try and I try
But the word is stuck in my throat.
It doesn’t want to go past my lips.
Sometimes, I manage to whisper it
The shell of the word burning
As it struggles to get free.
But it’s too late,
It’s always too late.
The moment’s gone.
No one sees it, no one hears it,
and I’m back at the beginning.

One word.
It’s only one word
And yet I feel it weighting on me
As rocks tied to my feet,
Ready to drown me.
I need to get it out.
I need to say it before it’s too late;
Before I’m dragged to the bottom of the sea
And I don’t have any breath left.

One year.
That’s what it takes
For the word to pass my lips.
One year,
of struggles and pains.
One year,
of fighting the urge to let go
and drown.
One year,
of angry blades and sleepless nights
of voicelessness.

I was breathless and speechless.
I was at the bottom and
I almost gave in.

But then, I remembered
those four simple yet powerful letters.
They echoed endlessly in my mind
Silencing all other thoughts
Taking over my body,
until I knew this was the only way out.

I felt weak and worn out
But it wouldn’t leave me alone
And it took all the strength left in me
to finally let it out.

Help.
Such a simple word.
Four letters and a breath.
That’s all it takes
To spell help and
make me breathe again.

Who knew that such a simple word
could be so powerful?

“A Life Cannot Be Measured by Its Years”: a Personal Dive into The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

By Constance Drugeot

Published on Curtain Call Magazine

[contains spoilers]

“It’s all a matter of time”

The first time I saw The Curious Case of Benjamin Button was during the summer of 2023 when the show had a short off-West End run at the Southwark Playhouse. As I sat in the tiny auditorium, waiting for the lights to dim and the music to start, I had a feeling that it would quickly become a favourite of mine. Little did I know that this little piece of theatre would come at a time when I needed it the most.

In the show, we follow the story of Benjamin Button across 70 years, as he ages in reverse. A man who struggles to find a place in this world because of his differences and yet, throughout the course of the show, realises that life isn’t about fitting in and being “normal” – but about making the most of the time that you have and spending it with the people you love – something that I desperately had to be reminded of.

“For a life cannot be measured by its years”

Three years before this little show came into my life, amid the first lockdown in 2020, my dad was diagnosed with incurable lung cancer. There is no word strong enough to convey what it felt like. As I witnessed the world freeze around me, my own world came crashing down. My dad’s life now had a time limit—a death sentence. We didn’t know how long we would get – it ended up being not long at all – and that thought alone was terrifying.

And so, I did the only thing I knew how to do best: bury all of my pain so deep that it couldn’t hurt me. The reality of it all was too awful to face so I spent these three years hiding away, refusing to admit what could – what would – eventually happen. I believed we had time. I wanted to have more time. And I tried to hold on to that hope, even though I watched my dad’s health deteriorate over the years.

“My heart sings the song of my home”

So, when I went to see the show, blissfully unaware of the story behind it, I didn’t expect to leave with such a heavy heart. Watching this extraordinary man, who didn’t know how long he would get, go against all the odds and fight for his “little life” – it was like a slap in the face. I had lost so much of my time drowning in my own sorrow, in my own pain, that I had forgotten what matters the most. Not the length of time we have on this earth but what we make of it. For years, I had been running away from what was hurting me. And it was time for me to come home, like Benjamin.

“If I carry on hiding for the rest of my life, what kind of life would that be?”

And much like Benjamin, when I did come home, I was reminded of the little time I had left with the person I love. And as he begged his love, Elowen, for more, my heart cried with him. I wanted more. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. But, as the show taught me, “time and tide wait for no man” and just like Elowen, my dad’s time was running out.

But instead of wallowing or running away, Elowen calmly accepts her fate. Because she knows she found her home, among her family. And before she goes, she teaches Benjamin to let go and accept the beautiful time we all get to have in this life – no matter how long or how short.

“We cannot hold on to all the years we might have lost”

The first time I heard Elowen sing ‘Time’, and all the times after that, I could only think of my dad. I still see him, feel him in the words, in the melodies of that song. And that song, that story, reminded me that I should cherish the little time I had left with him.

A month after seeing the show, I went home, bought the sheet music for ‘Time’, and learned it on the piano. I spent the summer playing it so that the meaning behind it would not only resonate for me but also for my dad – hoping it would bring us both some peace.

Little did I know it would be the last thing I would play for him.

“We cannot predict the length of our last breath”

Two months and twelve days after seeing the show for the first time, on the 29th of August 2023, my dad took his last breath. He was only 61 years old, just like Elowen.

But unlike Benjamin, I wasn’t by his side. I had gone back to London by then. Once again, was I running away from something I knew was inevitable? I don’t know. I will have to live with that my entire life. But despite the brutality of his death, the show reminded me of something important, of something that matters more than anything else: the time we had together.

As Elowen nears her death, she sings “A life cannot be measured by its years”, this couldn’t be more true for my dad. He could have had so many years ahead of him. But I will always remember the full life he lived with us. The family he created. We were all by his side for his last summer, in the place he loved the most. He didn’t get all the years that he should have had, his time on earth was cut short, but not our love. Our love will stay forever with him. And in the end, he lived his little life.

“For a life is but the sum of all its parts”

Even though grief has weighed heavily on my heart for the past year, I hold on to Elowen’s words. That life isn’t about the time that we have but “a memory of moments in our hearts”. That is timeless. That is forever.

I also try to hold on to Benjamin’s story. Despite whatever life throws at you, you have to find the courage and strength to keep going and live. In a recent interview I did with the cast, Ann Marcuson beautifully said that the story was about the incredible resilience of a man who had nothing to live for and yet still rises up! It is extraordinary, and if he could do it, then so can we. So can I.

“And even in the moment of our death, we have time”

It is not lost on me that this show came into my life right before grief struck me unexpectedly. I guess time – or tide – had clear intentions for me. This story and these characters had something to teach me and I am listening. I promise to try and be more like Benjamin and Elowen. To find joy in the little moments and to cherish my time. To make every second count. No matter how long I get. I hope I get to make this “little life” I’m living the best one.

So thank you, Benjamin Button and thank you, Jethro Compton and Darren Clark, for reminding me of what matters the most. Thank you for giving me the strength to believe in life in these dark days when grief overwhelms me.

And every time I hear ‘Time’, I will think of you, Papa.

“We all have time”

10 Months

The first time I self-harmed, I was 13 years old.

It was a summer day like any other. I was strolling in the flowers and trees. I could hear my mother’s laugh in the distance. Everything was so peaceful.

Except me.

Every cell in my body was boiling. My mind was screaming. I could feel this incontrollable rage slowly take over me. The pain was unbearable. Something was building and I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t hold it anymore.

I couldn’t.

So, I grabbed the sharpest stone I could find and I scratched it against my skin until I saw blood.

Bright red blood rolling down my pale arm.

I stopped.

I stared down at my bruised arm for a few minutes. The pain was gone. It was over.

The stone dropped and I ran inside.

What have I done?

Without being seen, I washed my arm vigorously. The red disappeared. It would be okay. I just fell, right?

Nothing happened if I make it disappear.

I just fell.

—

I was 16 when it became a habit.

I thought the pain would go away and I would never have to relive it. But it didn’t go away. It only grew stronger and stronger. I tried to bury it away.

I was okay, right?

Nothing worked. The pain took over my body little by little until I felt like I was drowning. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I was slowly dying.

But I knew how to make the pain go away.

So, when I saw pieces of a broken frame in my living room that my mom had probably forgotten to throw away, it felt like a sign. It was calling for me.

I was alone. It was perfect.

I grabbed a piece and locked myself in the bathroom.

Glass was sharper than stones, it would cut deeper. The pain was stronger than before. It would help.

Once the blade touched my skin, I knew there would be no going back.

Red against white.

It felt so liberating.

The pain disappeared like last time. I knew there would be a price to pay but I was willing to pay it.

I heard the door opened. I had to go. The blade would wait.

—

At 17, the blade couldn’t wait.

I quickly replaced the broken glass with a box cutter. It was neater and stronger. The pain grew and grew and this was the only thing capable of keeping up with it.

The more pressure, the more blood, the more the pain would go away.

But the pain was never truly gone. Only relieved a little for a few hours. And I would be drowning again.

The noise in my head never stopped. The rage and helplessness in my veins were still burning, become stronger every day. I was like a ticking bomb. The blade helped. It became my lifeline, my deliverance, my prison.

Cutting was like a drug. It was intoxicating. I always needed more. It was never enough.

Deeper and deeper.

I couldn’t stop.

My arms were a battlefield. More red than white. There was no time for healing, a new cut would always appear.

Long-sleeves, bracelets and band-aids became essential.

In time, my hips were marked too.

As the summer approached, my fear grew. As did the pain.

It got unbearable. The blood wasn’t enough. I needed more.

I was suffocating.

I was drowning.

I was lost.

It was too much.

I knew I had to do something before there would be no way out.

—

The day of my 18^th birthday, my sister took a picture of me. I’m sitting in the grass, smiling; and I’m wearing a sleeveless dress.

The marks are still here but they’re not a bright red. They’re healing.

—

The blade was put away. But never too far.

I am 23 years old and it’s been a long, long road. I have relapsed more times than I could count.

The pain always came back and it still does, but I have learned how to deal with it in healthier ways. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. The blade is always here.

One day, it will be completely gone. I am getting stronger and stronger. In time, I will beat this.

—

Today, I am 10 months clean from self-harm.

It’s been 11 years since I first put a blade to my skin. I’ve come a long way.

I can’t promise that this time it will be okay.

But I’m fighting. I’ve made it this far.

I’m not going to give up now.

A Raven’s Tale

This is the prologue of my novel. Here’s the summary:

Sara, a waitress with big dreams, feels trapped in her dull life… That is until she meets a young, mysterious orphan named Raven. After taking her under her wings, Raven disappears mysteriously, leaving her a strange Pocketwatch. Sara then starts a quest to find her but quickly realizes she is not the only one looking for her. A powerful organisation called The Iris are determined to find the young girl and use her Pocketwatch to alter the nature of time.

Hope you’ll enjoy it!! (Drawing by my sister)

Prologue

Raven carefully stepped inside the old church, soaked and shivering.

Silence greeted her. There was not a soul in sight. Only her and her shadow.

For now.

They could still find her here. Tricking them into going in the opposite direction was great but They wouldn’t take long to realize. She had a few hours at most. Maybe the rain would slow Them down slightly.

Wrapping her arms around her to warm herself, Raven took a few, cautious steps towards the altar. The church was ancient and small. It probably couldn’t fit more than fifty people. The walls were dusty and decrepit. If it wasn’t for the few candles burning on each side of the church, she would have thought it was abandoned. It would have been better for her. But as long as it remained empty, it would do.

As she walked past a row of old wooden benches, she could hear her footsteps echoing through the stillness of the dark chapel. A waft of cold air blew in and Raven shivered. She was still drenched from the rain and the church was freezing.

It wasn’t ideal. But at least she was safe from the terrible storm outside. And from the darkness of the night.

Night? Evening?

She had been running for so long; she had no idea what time or day it was anymore. She was just glad she had found a dry place to hide. The church was closed to visitors, but she had found a back door that hadn’t been locked correctly and she had quickly sneaked inside. No one would think of looking for her here. Maybe, she could even stay here until morning.

Raven swiftly went behind the altar and sat heavily on the ground. She was small enough that no one would see her if anyone came by the main entrance. And in that case, she could discreetly get out through the backdoor. It should be enough for her to escape if They found her here.

She shook her head. She shouldn’t think about that now.

Without removing her backpack, Raven leaned back against the cold, hard stone and looked up. A beautiful yet damaged stained glass was overlooking her, letting in a bit of light into the dark chapel. She could hear the wind howling outside. As if it was from another world. Everything looked so peaceful here. She was finally alone, away from the din of the city. Away from Them. It was as if she had found a place out of time. Out of sight and out of time. Exactly what she needed.

If only there was a way to stop time, she would get away from here. So far away that They would never find her.

Wait. Maybe there was a way.

Raven put a hand on her chest, where her Pocketwatch was hidden, before cautiously taking it out from underneath her hoodie. Holding it out in front of her, she stared at it. She had had that Pocketwatch for as long as she could remember. It used to belong to her parents. Or that was what she had been told anyway. But she couldn’t remember them, or anything before she arrived at the orphanage. That Pocketwatch was the only thing that linked her to her past, to her family.

That old and broken Pocketwatch.

Well, it wasn’t really broken. It just wasn’t a usual Pocketwatch.

It looked perfectly normal from the outside. The cover was a beautiful bronze gold with an opening on the dial window, the roman numbers encircling it. On the side, all around it, there were feathers engravings, and on the back, a few words, that had become illegible with time, were inscribed. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just an old, used Pocketwatch. But once opened, this is when it became uncanny. The dial window was like any other pocket watch, except that there were four hands instead of three, going from small to big, and they stood still, no matter what she did. It used to work before. Before she fled the orphanage. The three bigger hands used to give out time, irregularly maybe, but enough for her to know. The fourth one, the smallest one, however. She never knew what it was meant to do. After having the Pocketwatch for so long, she knew it wasn’t only meant to give out the time. It was something much more powerful and dangerous but what exactly? She hadn’t fully figured it out yet.

And well, she wouldn’t know now anyway. Since she left, the Pocketwatch had stopped working. The hands went static and nothing she did made it worked again. Raven tried and fiddled carefully with the hands, moving them from one side to another, waiting for time to happen.

A loud croak coming from the ceiling suddenly brought her back to reality. She raised her head and there, on a wood beam, stood a raven looking straight at her.

Raven let out a sigh of relief. “You scared me.”

The raven made another, disgruntled sound.

She looked up at it again. “What?” She asked, annoyed.

But it was staring at her, looking irritated.

“I’m really sorry to disturb you but it’s pouring rain outside. Even you look drenched!” She gestured to his plumage.

The raven made another loud croak.

“I’m not moving and I would appreciate if you would shut up and not draw attention to this place.” Raven stared at the blackbird, still standing on the beam, in the hope it would hush. But the bird only stared back blankly.

That’s when it hit her. “I’m talking to a raven,” she whispered to herself, sighing. “I’m going mad…”

Raven looked down at the Pocketwatch still in her hands. Nothing had changed. The hands were still stuck.

“Well, that thing is either broken or doesn’t work for me.” Resigning herself, she carefully put it back safely inside her hoodie. She removed her backpack and, for a second, thought about taking out the blanket she had. She was craving warmth and her clothes were sticking to her skin. But no. They could come at any time. She needed to be ready. This would have to do, she thought as she put her backpack underneath her head and laid down on it. Looking up, she could see the raven on the ceiling, still staring at her.

“We’re the same, you know. I’m a Raven too.” The raven tilted its head to one side as if it was examining her. “And you’re alone, like me. Maybe some company will be good for you too.”

She shifted slightly on the ground, trying to find a more comfortable position. She watched the bird ruffled some of its feathers. “At least you’re free.” It stopped and went back to watching her intently as if she were some kind of threat. Raven ignored it and kept going. “You’re alone but you’re free. I’m not. I never was. I thought I would be when I left the orphanage but freedom is not only leaving the place that held you captive. Freedom is doing what you want, going where you want, and I have no idea where I’m going. I know no one, nothing. I don’t even know what I want. To be left alone? Yeah, but I don’t wanna be alone, that just sucks. I left a prison for another one. That isn’t freedom.”

The raven kept looking at her but wasn’t making any sound.

She sighed. “What do you know anyway? You probably have family out there or something. You’re just waiting for the storm to pass. You’re gonna leave me alone, like everyone.”

The raven didn’t move.

“Maybe you can still be useful to me, though.” Raven continued. “Just start cawing or whatever it is you do if you hear anyone coming in. And I’ll leave you alone. No more talking. What do you say?”

Raven heard it croak again, but quietly this time.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes.” She whispered to herself, knowing that the bird wasn’t listening anyway.

Everything was so still. She couldn’t even hear the rain anymore.

Raven sighed wearily. “I’m really talking to a raven…”

Maybe she was delirious. She hadn’t stopped in days. Her stomach was desperate for food, her clothes were soaked and she was freezing.

All of this for what? A Pocketwatch that wouldn’t even work! But she couldn’t let it go. It was her family’s, it was hers. The only thing that ever belonged to her. The only thing she possessed that she knew had value and power. A power so important that it made Them chase her, a fifteen years old orphan, across the city. She would not let Them have it. She would do anything to protect it. Even if it meant sacrificing her life for it.

Raven let out a deep breathe and closed her eyes. Hopefully, it would not come to that. She just had to believe that this madness would end eventually, and that she would finally be at peace.

Maybe one day. For now though, she only had a few hours and she needed to use them cleverly. A small rest wouldn’t hurt, right? Just a few minutes…

As darkness took over her, a faint ticking suddenly echoed in the quiet church.

The Choices We Make

Another day, another nightmare. It never seemed to end. Sometimes she even wondered why she was doing this. Well, she knew why. It still didn’t make it easier.

Since she was little, Caroline always knew she wanted to be a surgeon. She remembered being ten years old and listening to her teacher explaining how the human body worked. She had been fascinated by it ever since. So she worked and worked and finally made it to medical school. The work got harder as the years went by but Caroline always tried to remember why she was doing it, what she was working towards. She knew it would all be worth it one day.

But that’s actually when she did an internship at the children hospital that she realized what she was doing here. She had always loved kids and they loved her back. She was good with them. Working with them, helping them, putting a smile on their faces. All of this was worth it because of them. She knew then that paediatric surgery was for her. It was the perfect path for her.

She just didn’t realised how hard it would be.

Being a doctor wasn’t what she expected. When she finally grew up and understood how everything worked and how doctors actually treated their patients, she felt bad. Not for herself, but for the patients, for the people they were supposed to help. From what she’s learned, doctors didn’t care about the person. They only cared about the disease. And she didn’t want to become like that. She wouldn’t let them turn her like that.

But it was still her dream and she was going to see it through.
That’s why she swore to herself to be a different doctor, a better one. She believed that everyone should be treated with respect. She needed to care or else she had nothing to do here anymore.

“Caroline!”
Her teacher’s voice brought her back to reality. She raised her head and was met with several pairs of eyes. Her teacher, Mrs Wilson, was looking at her disapprovingly. She felt her cheeks turn red.
“Sorry,” she mumbled quickly before grabbing her pen and writing down what the teacher had noted on the board.
Right.
More listening, less daydreaming. Maybe today won’t be that bad.

The class was over before she knew it. The next thing on her schedule was hospital visits. She was in the paediatric programme so she was working mostly with children. At least something she could actually enjoy. She really hoped the case she would be working on for the next few days won’t be too heart breaking. She just wanted to see a smile on these kids’ faces. Maybe she’ll be the one making them smile today.

With that in mind, Caroline got up and went to retrieve her patient’s file. She was about to leave when she heard Mrs Wilson called her. “Caroline, wait a minute would you?”

Great. What has she done now?

She stopped in the corridor outside of the classroom, and started to quickly look through her file while waiting for her teacher. She sighed. That was going to be a hard one, unfortunately.

She would be taking care of a twelve-year-old boy who suffered from a bone cancer. The tumour hadn’t spread yet, so he still had a chance if they treated him immediately. But there weren’t many alternatives….

“Caroline”, Mrs Wilson finally made her way to her. “I need to talk to you about your patient before you start anything. Well, more about his parents, actually.”

Caroline loved people. But she was good with children, not their parents. And dealing with the parents was always the worst part. Especially when their child was so young, like little Theo.

“You’ll need to be particularly careful with this one, I know you always are but this one is special…. You see, the parents don’t want Theo to know about the cancer.”

Every case was special… wait, what?

“What do you mean?”
Her teacher sighed. “They don’t want him to know about the cancer. Theo’s probably going to lose his leg and they don’t want to alarm him.”
Caroline looked at Mrs Wilson in shock. She could feel her anger starting to boil up. How could she just stand here and accept this?
“But that’s not right, he should be aware of what’s happening to his body!”
“Caroline.” She paused and closed her eyes for a second. “I agree with you but there is nothing we can do. This is the parents’ decision and no matter how wrong you think it is, you have to respect their choice. And don’t even try to argue with me about it, you have to treat him the way the family wants to, is that clear?”
She was about to say something else but the look her teacher gave her dissuaded her. She nodded reluctantly. “Yes, Mrs Wilson.”
The teacher studied her for a moment. “Alright then. Get going now.”

Get going? How could she get going if she couldn’t even talk to her patient? About a diagnosis that affected his body, his life, his future? He was still a child but he had the right to know about his health, as do adults. This was just bullshit!

“Caroline, are you okay?”
For the second time today, she was suddenly brought back to reality. Her friend Barbara was looking at her with concern.
“Yeah, yeah, why?”
“You looked upset, are you sure?”
Caroline bit her lip, considering telling her. Having another opinion could be good. But they weren’t supposed to talk about their cases. It was private information.

Well she didn’t have to mention his name.
“Actually, I want to ask you something.”
“Sure, go for it.”
Caroline took her to the empty classroom. “Let’s say that I have a patient, a child, and he’s sick. Like really sick. And his parents don’t want him to know because they don’t want to scare him. But his illness will affect him in a way that he won’t be able to ignore after surgery and yet, his parents still refuse to say anything.”
Barbara was frowning. “What did Mrs Wilson say?”
Caroline rolled her eyes. “She agrees with the parents.”
“If she agrees with them, she must have her reasons. And I don’t think she has many choices in the matter either….”
“Yeah but…”
“Caroline.” Barbara looked at her attentively. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret later. You know the parents have the last say in it. It’s their child, after all.”
“But that shouldn’t be right!”
“I know,” she sighed, “Listen, I have to go but please, be careful. Do what Mrs. Wilson told you to, okay?”
Caroline nodded silently, for the second time that day.

Do what Mrs. Wilson told you to. Well Mrs Wilson had been very clear. She wasn’t to interfere in any way.

Yet, Theo was her patient, not his parents.
No, stick to the rules. Don’t interfere. That’s not your decision.
But could she treat him while lying to him? Maybe she shouldn’t take care of that case at all… She wanted to be a doctor above everything else but not for this.

This is not what she had signed up for. This was going against everything she believed. Mrs Wilson might have no choice. She couldn’t bend the rules from her position. So she chose to accept it. Caroline admired Mrs Wilson for her tenacity, her intellect, her wisdom. She taught her everything she knew. Mrs Wilson was probably the best teacher she ever had. And the kindest. But she couldn’t let this go. She was not her. She didn’t want to become her.

She wanted to do better.

Maybe she still could.

She just had to ask herself if she was ready to put everything at stake for this.
Caroline shook her head. She already knew the answer. What was the point of becoming a doctor if she couldn’t even help her patients? She swore to do better, to be better. And that wasn’t it.

She would make it right with Theo. She owned him that much.

Without even realizing, Caroline had made her way to the children’s wing and found Theo’s room. She stood, frozen, in front of the door, her hand on the handle.

Was it the right choice? Was she making a mistake?

Caroline took a deep breath and opened the door.

She knew what she was doing. She was doing it for Theo, but also for her.
This was who she was. This was her choice. And no one was ever going to change that.

Silence

A short poem I wrote on what anxiety means to me

Silence. Silence everywhere.

That’s all you can hear outside. Silence.

There is a war inside your head, but the only thing people hear is silence.

You try to speak but nothing comes out.

Your mind is a battlefield: one thought contradicts another. A chaos uninterrupted and unlimited.

Voices are yelling. They are telling you that you are not good enough, that you are no one, that the world would be better off without you. you are nothing.

The voices are whispering, yelling, shouting. Everywhere. Weariless.

You cannot think, you cannot speak. All you can do is stay there with a smile on your face and no words in your mouth.

Because no one is going to hear what is going on in your head. How could they, if you can’t speak?

And in that silence, how are you going to let them know that you are not okay? That the smile on your face is only a façade and your mind is a mess?

They cannot hear and you cannot speak. And it never ends.

‘Lucy’

This is a short story I had to write for my MA – hope you’ll enjoy! 🙂

Lucy would have been four years old today.

They said it was the population overload. Too many people for such a small planet. Scientist did warn them, years ago. But they didn’t listen. They didn’t want to hear it. They refused to believe it.

Yet here they were. Twenty years in the future with a population far superior to whatever was predicted. And so little resources left.

Everyday became a struggle. It was chaos everywhere.

But Jenna only cared about her family. She only cared about her Lucy. Her little girl who had been cruelly snatched from her.

“Excuse me, have you seen this little girl?” She showed the picture of Lucy she always kept with her. “She’s four and about that tall…”. She made a gesture with her hand but the man wasn’t listening. “Please, she’s my daughter!” He simply shook his head and walked away. She started at him helplessly.

When children started to disappear, Jenna didn’t want to believe it. She thought that maybe the families were responsible for it. She heard that some families killed their own babies. Not enough food or water to keep them alive. Many of them wouldn’t even live more than eighteen months anyway. It was all about survival now.

But then, there were rumours. Rumours that the government was responsible for the disappearance of their children. Rumours that they came at night and took them away. Drastic measures for drastic times, as they called it.

Jenna wasn’t going to let that happen to her baby. She never let her out of sight, never let her walk away from her. She slept every night next to her, holding her close to her heart. They were not getting her. Not her Lucy.

“Excuse me miss, I’m looking for my daughter…”

But the young girl just turned away, without a glance at the picture.

“Everyone’s looking for their children, lady! You’re wasting your time.”

Jenna looked at the woman who had just spoken. She was about her age, maybe older. It was hard to know now.

She approached her, putting the photograph in front of her. “Perhaps you saw her…”

The woman only shook her head. “Everyone’s lost someone, you’re not the only one here. You have to live with it.”

She had lost Jimmy, her husband, two years ago. He was a fire fighter, devoted to helping others. One night, he had been called in for an emergency. Apparently, a fire had been declared on this other side of the city. She hadn’t wanted him to go. Perhaps, she was selfish. But selfish people survived. And there wasn’t a thing she wouldn’t do for her family.

“I’m just asking if you’ve seen her or if you might know where she is. Please”

The woman looked at her with a mixture of pity and sorrow.

Jenna remembered a time when she was making people happy. She used to be a baker and make the most wonderful pies. She even had her own little bakery. But all of this disappeared once the resources became scarce. People focused on the essential. Pastries were a luxury they couldn’t afford. Jenna had to leave everything behind and find a way to be useful. So she started to take care of other people’s children. That way, she was always with her Lucy. But Jimmy couldn’t turn his back on his job. With the chaos in the city, fire fighters were needed even more than before.

That night, she told him not to go. She told him that they needed to stick together. Surviving was all that mattered now. But he hadn’t listened, of course. He was a good man. He wanted to help. So he kissed her goodbye, took his bag and left.

She never saw him again. Lucy was barely one year old.

“You’re not going to find her, honey.”

It was only her and her little girl now. They survived, barely, for almost two years.

Until, one day, Jenna got sick. It wasn’t very serious but with the lack of antibiotics, even a simple cold became dangerous. Especially for the children. So Jenna decided to take Lucy to her friend Carol’s for the night. No matter how heart-breaking it was for her. She couldn’t let her get infected. She knew Carol’s mom. She trusted her. She would take care of her daughter.

That night, Lucy and Carol went missing.

They searched everywhere. Jenna didn’t sleep for days. She couldn’t believe this was happening to her. She knew children went missing all around her. But she always refused to believe that it would happen to her, to her baby. She did everything she could to protect Lucy.

It was only one night.

But one night was enough. They had taken her and there was nothing she could do.

She wanted to blame Maria, Carol’s mom. She wanted to be mad at her. With all her heart. She should have slept besides the girls! She shouldn’t have let them out of her sight! She should….have done something! But she knew it was to no use. Maria had lost her baby too. And now, they both had to stay strong and do everything they could to bring their little girls home.

Being without Lucy was agony. She felt like someone had ripped her heart out of her chest. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t live without her. But it was not the time to grieve. She was somewhere still. She had to find her.

Lucy disappeared nine months and eighteen days ago. Today was her birthday. Today, Lucy was four years old.

“She’s gone. You won’t see her again.”

The woman’s voice echoed in her head like a warning. You won’t see her again.

Once Lucy went missing, the rumours became overwhelming. Rumours about what they were doing with the children. How they would kill them. Or worse. Jenna didn’t want to think about that. Lucy wasn’t dead. She had to believe she was still alive. Or else, she didn’t have anything to live for.

Jenna turned away from the woman. She didn’t want to listen to her anymore.

She will find Lucy. She would see her again.

Jenna held tightly the picture in her hand. This was the last picture she took of Lucy before she went missing. She had been barely three, and yet, her face looked so severe. Like she knew what was happening. What was going to happen.

Lucy was four now. She must have grown so much. Maybe she didn’t even look like this anymore. Maybe that was why people didn’t recognize her. Would she even recognize her?

Jenna shivered with horror. Of course, she would! Lucy was her daughter. She would know her amidst a thousand faces.

She would have to anyway.

There were so many people. So many faces. It was so hard to tell apart one place from another. Searching one district took months.

But Jenna won’t ever give up. Not until she had answers.

Children were a rare sighting now. The lucky ones who haven’t been taken away (yet) would be desperately protected and hidden away by their mothers. Jenna couldn’t blame them. She would do the same.

No one would leave their child alone anymore.

Yet, in the crowd, she spotted a pair of bright blue eyes staring at her. It was a little girl, hiding behind an empty barrel. Alone. She had blonde curls and tiny freckles on her cheeks. But Jenna didn’t need to see that to know. To recognize her Lucy.

“Lucy?” She called her, her voice shaking.

But the little girl turned around and disappeared into the crowd.

“Lucy!”

Jenna was running and pushing and shoving people to get to her. Too many people!

“Lucy! It’s mom!”

But everytime she thought she was getting closer, Lucy would get further away. Was she dreaming?

Jenna’s heart was pounding in her chest. Tears were clouding her vision. Her mind was buzzing.

She couldn’t see her!

“Lucy!”

Where did she go?

Jenna stopped and looked helplessly around her. So many people. So many faces.

But there was no little girl.

Dreaming

I wish I could go somewhere

Where girls wear flowers in their hair

And boys have stars in their eyes

I wish I could find a place

Where sparks illuminate the sky

And it’s never really dark

A place where rivers never stops flowing

And the flowers never stop blooming.

I dream of a beach at sundown

With fire lights warming our veins

I dream of a million books to read

And a million songs to listen.

I wish I could warm my hands

With a nice cup of coffee

Hearing the soft noise of people talking

And closing my eyes without fear.

I wish I could sleep.

Sleep without dreaming

Of a life I’ll never live.

I dream with my eyes open

And everything around me changes.

I am trapped into a world that is not mine.

I tried to stop

But I always come back there.

Here, I dream of a better life

And it helps me get through mine.

So I dream.

I Love You

A poem I wrote for all my friends

The most beautiful kind of love

Is the one that comes from friendship

Because friends will always be there for you

No matter what;

Meanwhile ‘lover’, as we call them

Can at any moment leave you behind

With a broken heart and an empty soul

But your friends are the ones

Who are going to pick up the pieces

And make you feel whole again.

You usually take their love for granted

But you can’t imagine your life without them.

They are there for the best and the worst moments of your life

And when you shut them out

They will be knocking on your door until you let them back in;

They never give up on you

That’s when you realize

That they are going to do everything in their power to make you smile

And make you forget the pain you felt.

We should be calling them our ‘lovers’

Because their love is the real love that matters

It is the real love that lasts till the end of your days

So I think that our friends deserve all of our love

And we should never forget to tell them

That we love them.

This love is the most important thing in our life

So I want to say to all of my friends:

“I Love You”

Constance’s Daydreams

Author: Constance