had lost consciousness.
March 14
Dear Journal,
When I finally awakened, he was nowhere around. This mysterious creature, that knew my name and watched me from a photograph on the wall. I could not for the life of me explain what was going on. All I could think was that he must be something supernatural.
I started to sit up and began to falter. I felt weak. Perhaps I was sick and had imagined the whole thing. That would make more sense. There weren't such things as angels who looked after lost souls, were there? But I was indeed lost, in every way imaginable. And if anyone needed guidance, surely it would be me.
I made another attempt at sitting up again. But as I did, a hand reached out for me. It was him, where did he come from? He sat me up and then rested himself next to me.
Before I could say anything, he pressed a finger to his lips.
"My name is Christian. And I have been watching out for you since your arrival."
My head felt dizzy while I was trying to grasp what he was saying.
"Christian?" I repeated. How did you know my name?"
He smiled. "That was easy. You look like an autumn sort of girl. Your hair, that burnt shade of leaves, just before they fall from the trees."
He was definitely being coy with me.
"So, do you live around here, Christian?"
He bowed his head down to his chest and when he looked up again, there were those two angelic blue eyes connecting directly with my soul.
"I've lived here forever and a day. My home is by the sea."
I crinkled my nose.
"Do you mean in that abandoned amusement park?"
His eyes smiled back at me.
"You could say that, I guess."
Now he was being evasive.
"But right now, you need to rest. I've brought you some food and nourishment."
And then I noticed the tray with turkey and mashed potatoes steaming before me. Strange, that I had not seen, nor smelled them before. But then I was a bit out of sorts.
He pulled the tray and himself closer to me. I felt the warmth of the food and his presence.
"I think we will be good friends, you and me." And then he winked.
After finishing the meal, not stopping to wonder where it came from, I stood up and began to walk towards the stairs, and when I turned around he was gone. Just as quickly as he came, the room had become empty again.
Could Christian be a ghost?
March 15
Dear Journal,
I awoke this morning to the songs of birds, foretelling the return of spring. There was also the unmistakable melody of a flute, which I knew belonged to Christian. Though where he was, I did not know. But like the person in the photograph, I knew he was watching over me.
So what now? My life had changed course again. This was an unexpected turn. Though part of me feared him, I was thankful for not having to be alone again.
If I had not discovered the photograph, perhaps I would never have known him. They seemed to be connected somehow.
I got up and went downstairs. Shafts of sunlight tilted their rays through the shop window. Outside in the lane, a new day began to dawn. Stretching itself over the avenue that now had become my new home. A residence, that consisted of several empty shops, a desolate train depot, and a forgotten amusement park. It was like being on the back lot of a movie studio just after the picture finished filming. The props still intact and the facades all left standing, waiting for me to embrace as my own reality. But now there was someone to share this new world with. Or perhaps, he was sharing his world with me. But either way, I was starting to feel welcome in this misbegotten land.
I turned in the direction of the music, towards the melody of the flute. It led me down to the beach, among the arcade stalls and faded venues. And there it was, all at once, before me. The small curtained stage of a puppet show, like a Punch and Judy theater.
A solitary chair waited in front of it just for me. I sat and waited expectantly. The tiny curtain went up revealing a watercolor backdrop of a summer beach. A hand glove puppet wandered onto the stage looking about curiously. It undoubtedly represented a young woman who appeared to be lost. Then from the other side of the stage a second hand puppet appeared. This one was a young man that motioned her to follow him.
"Autumn", he called to the other puppet. "Come hither, I have some exciting news to tell."
I smiled at the realization of who the puppets were meant to be. That was considerate of Christian to take the time to create this performance just for my benefit. He must be quite talented, and yet humble to remain unseen behind a curtain. Just like all of his efforts for me went unnoticed on the empty stage of Dawn Haven. But then maybe virtue was its own reward.
After the play finished, Christian's head appeared from behind the stage, a smile glowing from ear to ear.
"I hope you enjoyed our show." he said.
"You did say our show?" I repeated.
"Yes, Autumn." he nodded. "Didn't you see that we were together?"
I nodded, and stood up giving a round of applause.
"Thank you Christian. I have never seen an actual puppet show before. I've only read about them in storybooks."
"Well, I am happy to have made at least one of your dreams come true."
"So, are you to be my genie today?" I mused.
He stepped out from behind the puppet theater and bowed.
"I’m at your service, my lady."
We spent much of the day walking along the windy shore and building sandcastles that dared to topple into the sea. Later we sat in the seat of the Ferris wheel watching the sun go down.
"What do you think about life, Autumn?" Christian asked.
I turned and watched his profile as he looked out to the sea. His golden hair lifted into the wind.
"I really don't know, Christian. Life seems to be a mystery unto itself. It offers no answers, only puzzles. Wish that I knew the answer."
His face turned to me, his eyes taking me in.
"I wasn't speaking about the mysteries of life, but only how you perceive it."
I tilted my head back in thought. Listening to the creaking sound the Ferris Wheel made above us in the breeze.
"Well, my life here has been rather a short one. I don't remember my father, and my mother just died last month."
Christian placed a consoling arm around me.
"I'm sorry for your loss, Autumn."
"And since we spent most of my life moving about, I never had time to develop any roots or make friends."
Christian nodded solemnly.
"So you never had a close friend, or..." his voice trailed off into the sea air.
"A boyfriend,” I supplied. "No, I’ve never had any lasting relationships. And as for a boyfriend, he only lived in my dreams."
Christian searched my eyes and I felt a sympathetic connection there.
He spoke one last time before leaving.
"Believe me Autumn, when I say that I can understand you. More than you know."
March 16
Dear Journal,
Today the heavens were a heavy gray and it rained the entire day, so I did not venture outside. I waited patiently, but there was no sign of Christian. I looked out my window, but all I saw were rivulets of water streaming down the glass panes. Both the seashore and the amusement park were a wet blur.
I looked downstairs for something to read or occupy my time. But there was nothing so I went back upstairs and laid down to rest. After a while, I fell asleep and began to dream. In the dream I was riding at the back of a bus. I couldn't see outside because of a dark fog. The bus was empty and I was the only passenger left. The driver stopped and opened the door. He looked up at me in the mirror. "This is the end of the line" he called.
I stood and moved to the front of the bus and looked out into a gray fog of nothingness. I was afraid to step out into the unknown, so I looked back at the dr
iver pleadingly. He nodded his head at the door.
I cautiously stepped out, but the moment I entered the mist, I began to fall into a great oblivion.
Until I felt a hand reach out to catch me. I knew it was Christian and when I turned to see him, I woke up and met his warm smiling eyes watching me from the photograph.
The apartment however remained empty. There was no sign of my savior.
March 17
Dear Journal,
Christian woke me up today. It was the middle of the night. Something happened to change our small world after the rain. He brought me outside and led me down to the shore.
The rain had washed some of the sand away and a good part of the shore returned to the sea. Driftwood floated in the tide, and there were ebony pools that filled various parts of the beach, dividing it into a series of islands.
He led me by the hand to one particular spot the rain had uncovered. I stopped and clasped my hand over my mouth. There, by the light of the moon, a human hand protruded from the ground, a skeletal tree reaching out for the dark sky; futilely attempting to grasp the heavens for life, for air.
Christian put his arm around me, because I had begun to tremble. And I continued to shake at the thought of this dead body in the sand. Was this the only one?
"What should we do?" I asked him, afraid to hear his reply.
Christian looked at the hand, then back at me, and shook his head.
"I think we should give them a proper burial."
I shuddered at the thought.
"Do you mean we need to dig the body out and then bury it again?"
Christian looked at me thoughtfully.
"I was thinking more of a burial at sea. But perhaps we could try to cover the remains and hold a small service."
This thought to me was ghastly.