Page Four: The Song and the Water 

Dear Diary,

This one feels like a dream more than a memory.

I was with my mum in the kitchen. She was cooking like she normally does, moving around without stress. I was just there, leaning on the counter, not really doing anything.

Then she started humming, and I joined her without thinking. It wasn’t planned. It just felt natural, like something we had always done without realizing.

It turned into a song between us.

Song: “Stay Here With Me”

Mom:

Stay here a little while with me

The world can wait outside the door

You don’t have to rush to be

Something you’re not ready for

Me:

I try to stay, I really do

But my thoughts don’t listen to me

Sometimes I feel I’m passing through

A place I’m not meant to be

Mom:

You were small just yesterday

Now you’re learning how to fall

But even when you drift away

You can always call my name

Me:

I hear you, but I don’t know how

To slow the things inside my mind

Everything feels heavy now

Like I’m running out of time

Mom:

You don’t have to carry it alone

I’m right here, I haven’t moved

Even when you feel unknown

I still see the you I knew

Me:

And if I disappear one day

Will you still remember me?

Or will I just fade away

Like I was never meant to be

Mom:

No matter where your footsteps go

No matter who you become

You will always have a home

In the place where you are from

Both:

Stay here a little while with me

Even when the world feels far

You are still my melody

No matter where you are

After we finished singing, things started to feel strange.

The kitchen didn’t feel like the kitchen anymore. It was like the edges of everything were softening, losing their shape. I noticed water first around my feet, but I didn’t react immediately. I thought maybe I was imagining it.

But it kept rising.

Slowly at first, then faster.

Until I realized the entire room was filling with water.

My mum didn’t seem surprised. She was still standing in the same place, completely calm, looking at me like nothing was wrong. She was smiling, and then she lifted her hand and waved at me.

It wasn’t a panic wave. It was gentle. Almost like goodbye, but not sad.

I tried to move toward her, but I couldn’t. My body felt light, like I wasn’t fully anchored anymore. I realized I was floating in the water without trying to.

She stayed where she was, watching me.

Still smiling.

And I was drifting away from her, even though I didn’t want to.

Then everything stopped.

No water. No kitchen. No sound.

Just silence.

I woke up in my room, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out if it meant anything or if it was just a dream my brain made up for no reason.

I didn’t tell her about it.

I don’t think I could explain it properly even if I tried.

I went to school that day thinking everything would be normal. I actually remember feeling okay when I left the house. Like maybe it would just be another ordinary day where nothing embarrassing or strange would happen.

I even felt confident when I walked into school.

For a few minutes, it really was fine. Classes, people, noise. Everything was the usual background of school life.

Then it happened.

I saw this guy.

I don’t even know how to explain it properly without sounding ridiculous, but he was just… attractive. Like the kind of person your brain refuses to process normally for no reason.

And my body reacted before my brain could catch up.

I felt my stomach twist. My vision went weird. Panic hit me out of nowhere.

And then I threw up.

Right there.

In front of him.

And immediately after that, I collapsed. Like actually collapsed. My legs just gave up on me and I hit the ground.

Everything after that was blurry.

I remember Jennifer.

She was the one who rushed to me first. She helped me sit up, asked if I could breathe properly, then called for help. She didn’t even laugh or make it worse, she just looked concerned and kept telling me to stay with her.

She stayed with me until they took me to the school clinic.

At the clinic, the doctor came in.

I was still confused, embarrassed, and trying to pretend I was okay.

The doctor barely even looked concerned in the normal way. He just started asking questions that made everything worse.

Doctor: “When was your last period?”

Me: “What?”

Doctor: “Your last menstrual cycle. When was it?”

Me: “I don’t… I don’t know. Why are you asking me that?”

Doctor: “Are you sexually active?”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Doctor: “I need to rule out pregnancy. Have you taken a test recently?”

Me: “Are you serious right now? I just collapsed in school. You haven’t even checked anything and you’re asking me if I’m pregnant?”

Doctor: “It’s a standard question.”

Me: “No, it’s not standard. I threw up and fainted, and your first assumption is pregnancy?”

Doctor: “We’re covering possibilities.”

Me: “Maybe you should start with checking what actually happened to me instead of guessing my entire life.”

He finally paused after that. Like he realized I wasn’t going to just sit there and accept it quietly.

Jennifer was outside the room the whole time. I could hear her asking if I was okay through the door.

The doctor eventually did proper checks after that—blood pressure, temperature, the usual stuff. But by then, I was just exhausted.

Not even physically.

Just mentally tired of people always jumping to conclusions about me.

When I left the clinic, Jennifer walked with me.

She didn’t ask too many questions. She just said I should sit out for the rest of the day and try to rest.

And for once, I listened.

That day kept replaying in my head, though.

The collapse. The embarrassment. The questions.

And the way everything always seems to spiral around me even when I start the day thinking it won’t.