Diary of a Certain Lady : Chapter 4

When I woke up a few days before the Big Journey, I had no idea what I would do. It had been a peaceful night, no nightmares, no dreams, nothing. At least, as far as I could remember. My eyes felt heavy as I erected myself and looked around my room. The same wooden room I had left before I went asleep. My room was small, but cozy. There was a small bed, a wooden desk that held my books and a chair. On the table there was an ashtray and a used coffee mug. Other than that it was empty. Looking from my bed there was a small window, where light could shine through and wake me up when I forgot to draw the curtains. I had forgotten to draw it last night, so the early sunlight had woken me up from my nightly slumber. I tried to lay back down, but I knew that I wouldn't fall back asleep. As far as I was concerned I had little reason to get up, but my empty stomach suggested something else. My hands rubbed all over my face before I convinced myself to get up and make my way to the small kitchen. I wasn't the type of person to eat much, but I felt that I needed to get my life straight. Not only was my lack of appetite causing me to feel moodier than usual, I also had difficulties looking at myself at the mirror. My eyes were sunken in and my face was pale. All the clothes that normally fit me perfectly were getting too big for my lean body. I looked like a living corpse. I often couldn't get myself to look decent, but the more time passed the grumpier I got looking at my own reflection. It is hard to explain honestly and I doubt it can be backed up logically, it's more a feeling of displeasure. The cherry on top of my unorganized life, I could say.  When I went to the kitchen the coffee tasted more bitter than usual, but I still drank it. I took some toast and put some butter on it and forcefully fed myself. Eating away I looked out of my small kitchen window. There wasn't much to see. The early mornings of the suburbs were quiet, everyone was fast asleep except for me. Looking at the clock on my kitchen wall I saw it was just 5:15 am. A sigh slipped over my lips. How extremely bored I was, dear reader. This wasn't the usual boredom I felt every other day after Mother had died. It was a deep gnawing feeling of discomfort. It's like when you hear an annoying buzzing noise, first you ignore it, then you notice it, then you can't hear anything else and finally it's pounding inside the deepest part of your brains. And that was exactly how I felt, life felt like a parasite manifested inside of me. I couldn't keep up how many days had passed in this manner. This endless pattern, a cycle of life that refused to come to a merciful end. Oh, I was so sick and tired of the same old bitter coffee in the morning, the sight of the gray buildings that didn´t reflect the warmth of the sunlight. My little cozy room felt more like (as cliché as you might consider it) a prison. I had seen it all. Every book in the shelf had been read, no cup had remained untouched, my fingers had counted every centimeter and millimeter of this house. This world was getting too small for me, so extremely small I could easily fit it inside my pocket. Suffocating even. Yes, that´s the essence. Suffocating, drowning. Drowning in this timeless realm of endless repeat. 
I inhaled the bitter smoke of my cigarette and ticked it off in a gray ashtray. How extremely bored I was, but worst of all, I was too lazy to do anything about it. What's the point? Is there ever going a drastic change in my life at this point? I have had my childhood, I've been to school and I've worked for quite a while. All of it felt empty and was just the same endless repeat, but in a different form. And now at the marvelous age of 42 I had blatantly given up.  I convinced myself I was happy when Mother had just died, but honestly speaking, did I ever have another choice? This is the path Life has chosen for me, whether I liked it or not. I couldn't do anything, but be happy. Where was Mother when you needed Her? She could have lend me a hand, pushed me over the edge. Finally get me to do something with myself, even if it was useless, She'd give me the illusion it was not. Right then sipping away on my bitter coffee in loneliness I felt like an orphan of Life. Nothing seemed to satisfy me in the slightest. Even worse, I felt empty and joyless. Sucked and drained. I barely had enough energy to enjoy anything, but just enough to spend my nights contemplating and worrying. Wasteful nights if you ask me.
I knew that escaping and isolation were meaningless, but what else was there in life?
Growing up and facing the challenges of a possibly meaningless and empty life, yet giving our all to it?
Amusing if you asked me, for I couldn't judge whether that was genius madness or ordinary madness. These had been my thoughts for the past years after Mother had died. 
However that day, I saw things in a different light. The stains on my coffee told me it had been enough. The sunlight was almost blinding when it shone inside my house. Everything had a surreal and absurd atmosphere to it. It looked mad, I looked mad for wanting to stay here. My oversized clothes were suffocating me, I couldn't bare to see my sickly looking face one more time, I had to leave this haunted place. Mother would not come back, I knew that for sure. This house only reminded me of her. Even though she wasn't here, I knew that it wasn't her presence that was torturing, it was also her absence. I had to get out of here, I had to escape this place. It was time for change, a new environment, a new experience. My heart was beating like mad just thinking about it. Away from this gray island of misery, on my way to something different. Not better, but different. Anything felt better than this state between death and alive. How exciting it was! I hastily threw away my half eaten piece of toast and finished my coffee before rushing back to my room. I wanted to pack my stuff while I was still motivated to do so. So, I went to my closet and looked through my stuff and threw together a bunch of clothes. Since I had little I valued as important, I was ready with packing my stuff that morning.  A backpack filled with some food, my favorite big sweater and few other clothing items. I went to the bathroom and packed my toothbrush. I knew that wherever I was going too, there would be someone who'd lend me his or her toothpaste and shampoo. Besides, I didn't feel like dragging a lot of stuff with me. While I was packing I felt I was on automatic pilot again, but it was different this time. It was like a burst of energy that never had gotten its outlet was finally expressing its true colors to me. I was enjoying every minute of this high.
When I was done packing, I still figured out I needed a destination. Although I didn't care where the wind was taking me, I at least had to choose one of the many directions possible. I knew there was a bookstore nearby I could visit. It was where I bought my books and smokes, but other than that there was also a plate on which people could pin certain ads. It varied from ads for jobs, to free film tickets, to discount on certain magazines. Every now and then there would be an ad for traveling. The destination varied, which was ideal for me. My only weak point was that I was afraid of flight, but as soon as I arrived at the bookstore my worries were gone and replaced with delight. I read there was a bus trip heading to a nice hotel near the sea. It was a group trip, but I didn't really mind that as long as I got to sit alone. I wrote down the number that was written on the sheet of paper. Later that night I called the number and a pleasant male voice picked up the phone. He asked for all my information, name, date of birth, location and age. I obediently answered everything in a cool voice. When were we close to hanging up he said he was looking forward to seeing me there, I wished him a pleasant night. The trip was in a few days and I was prepared to leave this place for a while, I wasn't even sure if I would come back. Maybe I wouldn't take the trip back and get lost in a unknown city somewhere far away, living day to day in different motels. I just had to be patient for the moment being, the rest would follow. 
The first night I mostly spend on the toilet, barfing away all my nerves. Once my stomach was empty, so was my head and I felt like a zombie. Easy chores were nightmarish and I couldn't focus on the presence. Just thinking about leaving this place made me feel sick. The delight I felt the moment I had packed my stuff was all gone. Lucky for me though, I was so worn out from all the vomiting, I didn't have the energy to reschedule my trip and unpack my backpack. So mostly spend my days in bed asleep, away from reality. Day and night were swirling around each other in a danse macabre, until finally the day had arrived. 
I woke up that morning knowing that nothing would be the same anymore. There I was sitting in my room thinking of what awaited me, but I didn't really care as long as I was leaving this life behind. I still had my usual morning routine, to cherish one last time the life I had grown tired of. Coffee even tasted unusually sweet that morning, maybe it was a good sign. I went through every room one last time, inspecting every inch of it, moving every piece of furniture one last time, before finally closing the door. I knew Mother didn't like it when her house was messy, so I wanted it to be as tidy as she remembered it the last time she had left it.  I then grabbed my backpack and closed the heavy door. Locking the door, I threw away the key in a garbage bin outside. Hastily I went to the bus stop and sat there waiting for my fortune to be written. The man on the phone had told me that we would collect near the bookstore on the parking lot. When I arrived I was the first one there. The bus stood there waiting, even the bus driver hadn't arrived yet. I sat down, smoked a cigarette and even went inside the bookstore to buy myself a cup of coffee. As time went by, I was feeling more at ease. I was looking at the bookstore while I was outside, sipping on my coffee and waiting for the people to gather. Lost in thoughts I barely heard the footsteps behind and I was startled when a deep voice began speaking to me: 
''Good day, ma'am,'' A bald man said. He was small and chubby with a big dumb grin on his face. I turned around and looked at him. His hand was stuck out towards me and I took it. 
''Welcome, you must be early.'' he said in a sheepish manner. I smiled at him. 
''I wouldn't want to miss it, so I came early.'' I answered him.
''Good, good. It's always better to be early than to be late, ain't it?'' he grinned at me and I tried to return the smile. 
''How very right you are, sir. I assume you are the bus driver, if I am not mistaken?''
''I am, but I'm also your guide, so if you have any questions, don't be too shy to ask them.'' he said
I nodded. He continued talking about where we were going and at first I was carefully listening. He said it was a simple hotel near the sea. He asked if I traveled a lot and I truthfully responded it was actually my first time alone. 
He raised his eyebrows, but then winked at me. 
''Don't worry, I will make sure it will be a memorable experience for you.'' He then kept going on and on in details about all the places he has been and how many hours he had spend inside of this bus. My concentration was fading away and I just nodded after every pause he took, making a few noises like 'hm' and 'aha' to show I was listening. My lack of sleep the past couple of days was making it hard for me to focus and honestly this guy was testing my patience. I looked behind him and saw a few more people coming towards us as he was blabbing away. 
I coughed and said: ''Would you look at that, more friends to join us in our journey.'' He turned his head towards the people. Most of them were middle aged women in hiking clothes and big Nikon cameras around their thin necks. Some of them had brought their husband along. They all wore similar clothes. A blue shirt, shorts that showed their white leg hair, a cap against the sun, socks in sandals and small backpack. Their wives were loudly talking to each other as their husbands slowly followed with their heads hanging. The bus drivers whose name I've forgotten was distracted, so I saw my opportunity to swiftly grab my bag and head towards the entrance of the bus.  Being the first one inside, it was empty. This meant I could choose any seat I wanted to, so I kept going to the back of the bus until I found a place next to the window where I could isolate myself. I sat down, my backpack beside me and looked through the window at the happy people talking to each other. I wondered what their plan was, where they were going, why I was the only relatively young person here. The sight didn't give me answer to any of these questions, so I drew the curtain and laid my head down. After a while I could hear the sound of the excited passengers, but long before the engine had started, I had fallen asleep, not knowing what my next plan would be after this journey.