10 Years Slip
Lana, 26 years old, struggled to believe the changes and ruined life she left behind back 10 years ago.
Today was the day I finally opened the letter I had written to myself ten years ago.
As a 26 year old Grown woman in a train station confused by the thoughts of why she is even here. She doesn't even know where to stay or where to go, just a blindfold walk towards the crowded place. Holding an old letter and a phone, she wonders if the phone will ring soon or later.
10 hours ago
After such hectic traffic and a horrible plane estimate, I have finally reached home, Addis Ababa. I didn’t miss it at all the dust, the crowded places, the horrible noises, almost everything, the cab I hailed stopped in front of me.
at least the taxi system has proven I thought,
“Where to? Miss” he asked.
After I told him my location we started the road, I noticed some new things, some new statues, some new flags and a lot of flowers and trees,
“ Where did you come from?” the taxi driver asked,
“ Hmm, Lourmarin, it is in France,” I answered back.
“France huh”, I nodded at him staring at the window. He didn’t say anything nor I needed him to say more. After a while, I dozed off to the music on the radio. It took me to 2016, the year of happiness, bliss.
“ Hey wait for me, Jesus Nate wait if I fall I swear to god I will kill you.” Nate, my childhood best friend, always likes to run. I don't know how he can keep up the 2 and 3 miles he did in the morning, from school to home. We always like to chase each other more like I am chasing him. He stopped when he reached the uphill and shouted,
“ What, now you can’t keep up with me?” sticking out his tongue.
I still haven't told him that I am gonna move to France, I don't know how he will act on it. Will he be alarmed, shocked, sad, or even be cool with it. I sometimes hate that my brain is always running to the wrong places and those places turn to the darkest spot.
“ You have reached. It will be 500 birr.” The taxi driver murmurs.
“ Oh, thanks.” I gave him the money and took out my luggage.
I looked up and saw my “HOME SWEET HOME” They say the place you were born and grew up will win your heart, move your soul, and create nostalgic feelings but I never had those things. 10 years later, I never thought I would be back to this place but when Mom called and said Dad is gonna be dead in a few days or weeks, I decided to see his face one last time before everything. My dad was a sailor and his father was also his grandfather. He wanted my brother to be too but stubborn Mike wanted to chase his dreams of photography.
After 10 minutes or so, I took a step to the gate of our home and rang the bell. I didn't have the key to my home, Iconic.
“Coming,” someone said. I don't know the voice but it is male.
It isn’t Mike because he was somewhere last time we talked. In some forest chasing some extinct lost bird.
An attractive, built and annoyingly cute person opened the door,
“ Hello, how may I help you?” He said something just like that. Didn’t mom tell him I was coming?
“ I live here.” I answered back. It was more of an annoyance than a statement, he didn’t budge or move from the door.
“ Can you please call my mom and tell her I am here.”
“and you are?” Is this guy a daft or don’t have anything to do,
“ I am Lana, Lora's daughter. I was supposed to come today and who are you?”
Now I wanna go to France and die peacefully. He stretched his hand to me like I asked him to shake my hand.
“ I am Orson. I live here” I ignored the outstretched hand, I live here what does it mean? I live here.
He isn’t my sister’s boyfriend or my brother’s friend. If he were any of them I would know believe me I would,
“ Orson, who is at the door?” finally my mom came out from her den.
“ Oh hello, Mom hey,” I said. Just before I left for France, Lora sent everything to help me settle why? she felt guilty for leaving me. I begged her to never leave me somewhere I don’t know anyone or where she wasn’t. I was grateful for some parts, she didn’t want to leave her diplomatic job here and now she is leading a conference of the united nation representing Special needs in Ethiopia.
I should act excited right, right, oh i don't know what to say.
“ Hello Mom” finally out of my mouth and she is starting to analyze my clothes, the shoes i wear, purse and everything,
“ Lana, Welcome home, Come in.” she said.
After pushing my luggage and moving to the living room, I wondered why she didn’t help me put it in my room. Orson left saying he should give us privacy.
“Mom, I am gonna go to my room.” I think she heard me.
“Honey, yeah about that. Orson is the one in your room. We rented it a few years back, Can we talk for a bit?” she reluctantly said. I tried to hide my anger, disbelief and sour feelings.
“Okay, It’s okay Mom.” I didn't want to put a burden on her so I did something I had never done in my 10 years of life. I hugged her. It was obvious she was shocked. She didn’t hug me back for a minute. I missed my mother, She became my sole supporter and an altruistic person in my life.
”Let’s say hi to your father, Lana.” I am not ready to see dad yet. I am afraid of what awaits me. Dad was the one who found me when I was in my lowest place 10 years ago and I don’t have the courage or the sympathy like he is someone I don’t know. We reached their room, which was converted to a mini hospital room with a lot of cables, ventilation, EKG/ECG Machines, and chairs. Dad looks fragile, that I could just walk there and crush him if I hugged him too much. I couldn’t stop the tears that flowed from my eyes or the way my heart slowly shuttered piece by piece.
“D…ad.” No answer
I waited. Nothing
“ I will be back” I told mom, who was also shedding silent tears. I just want to breathe
Breath in 1, 2, 3
Breath out 1, 2, 3
I missed my father. After our biological father died in a tragic accident, Mom went into a deep pit of hell, after 3 years she found dad, Aiden, he was humble. They knew each other in high school. I didn't know my biological father much. Aiden was like my second father. Now he is dying, my mother was going to a place she was never gonna come back to. After I came back to my senses and looked up I saw the garage was full of boxes. A lot of them are Lana's favorite dolls, Lana's middle school textbooks, and Lana's shoes. It is all my stuff. Orson, he is in my room like Mom said. My stuff is in the garage because my mom can’t have the guts to throw them away,
oh mom i wished you had thrown them.
Something kept brushing against my leg and I bent to pick it up. Lana’s diaries, a smile forms on my face. I remember the silly things I used to write about my favorite food, songs, whenever we fought with Nate I wrote everything in my diaries. I decided to open it.
2010 my first dairy, 2011, 2012-2013, 2015 and 2016, The year I left for France, the year when Nate and I fought for real. I gathered the courage and opened it, a letter fell from it. It reads “To the future Lana,” oh my god, I know the reason I came here half of it was because of this letter but didn’t expect to face it. I stowed the letter in my back pocket and left the garage and went to Dad’s room. He was already asleep, mom held his hand like she was waiting to get a response. I knew it was long gone, the pain in his eyes every video chat we had, every sick cough I heard whenever mom lied he was asleep. Now I know Dad is actually gone. Death is whispering sweet nothing. Mom is just waiting for the day he would slip from her fingers.
“ Mom, I am gonna go, I will return okay” It was a lie and both of us knew it.
“ Okay, Lana. take care” I took the railway.
I don’t know where I am going and there is something that waits to be read, to be remembered, and to be known.
Today was the day I finally opened the letter I had written to myself ten years ago. It would be silly. I know that. I pulled it out of my back pocket. Suddenly I was back in my room on day 21, 2016.
I said goodbye to Nate, I cried my eyes out after he left me saying I was selfish and wrong for keeping it all from him all this time. I went to the roof, bought a blade cutter, and cut my blood veins again and again, but Dad saved me and I begged him to never tell Mom about it. He bandaged my hand and gave me some pills. He left me in my room. I grabbed a paper and started writing. The papers were wet from the tears that kept falling from my eyes.
Dear 26 years me,
Hello, I hope you are really living a happy life. If you are, don't be too cocky about it and maybe with Nate, who knows. I know he won’t talk to me now but I hope you will express your feelings for him at last. Lana, please don’t be dead, okay I know you are really suffering now, i know how lonely you are now, how the pain is keeping you from surfacing the fate that god sets for you. The scars I gave you today, are a reminder for you that this isn’t the end. It might be impossible for me to see what the future holds for me, but I know deep down you will rise even if you are alone and lost. Don’t try to kill yourself like i did. Do not tell Nate okay he will murder me. Mama, Dada, and big bro will always love you, always will appreciate you even if you don’t believe in yourself. I will believe in you actually, but you get me. 26 year old Lana, learn from your mistakes and let the darkness bloom with light okay. I will always love you. 16 years old Lana
I didn’t realize my eyes were betraying me. The man next to me is focused on me.
16 year old Me knows about me more than 26 year old me, I never saw Nate after that day, or heard of him. It would have broken her if she knew the continuous lines sketched on my left and right hands. She was innocent, passionate, and bent.
My phone starts to ring. It is an unknown number.
“Hello”
“ la…..ni” breath in breath out,
“....Nate”
Nate Willson just called me.
