Aidan: Yellow

Monday, January 1 2216, 09:30, Moruya, the Commonwealth of Australia

The buzzing of my alarm jolts me awake. I walk across the living room of my small newly-rented apartment and gently draw the curtains open. Sunlight floods the room, yellow and dazzling, announcing the start of a fresh new day and a fresh new year.

Softly I move across the living room and angle open the bedroom door, currently occupied by a fast asleep Liliane. She lies on the bed, unmoving, like the elegant statue of a refined Greek goddess.

2215 has been a long year. Eleven months of planning and the final of action. The journey was tough, and I totally unprepared for Liliane’s unexpected arrival. Yet with her by my side, all the previous worries about settlement in New Zealand seemed extraneous. I have repeated my catchphrase dozens of times, but do I honestly understand what it means to “keep hoping”?

She was suicidal. She was depressed. She was helpless, hopeless, and lifeless. Stripped of a normal childhood of joy and love, she was thrown into one hell of a trouble. I never thought there were people with more problems than me. Well, coming face to face with duplicity, along with discovering your parents’ lifelong veneer of kindliness, is enough to bring you down. Enough to darken your world and crush your soul. Enough to make you attempt to take your own life.

She did. But I stopped her. I am certain it was a right thing to do, despite having to break every rule in the country that you could name. In my mind I replay her laugh, like Christmas bells twinkling in the snow, and her thin gentle smile, comforting and at peace. It’s hard to believe she was the one who flung insults at me when I saved her from minutes to death.

Australia has collapsed, the Socialist Party of Australia taking over. Liliane’s parents, as significant representatives of the opposing government party, were executed last Thursday. When I told her the news, her only comment was: “Fine.”

Now we live together in this small and cozy apartment in ruralAuckland. The rent is relatively low but it’s funded by the government. Living together is a whole new experience to me. Liliane’s messy and artistic, whilst I am keen on getting everything sorted out properly. She is temperamental, emotional but kind and caring, whereas I focus, excessively, on logic and reason. She is back to painting, oil on canvas, colorful and hopeful; I’m writing a book on my life. Together we dovetail with each other, bonding with love, tolerance and trust.

A long road awaits us, the journey with the colors of a rainbow, full of choices to be made and challenges to overcome. Uncertainty lies ahead. But so does hope. Hope is everywhere, everyday, with everyone. It was the remaining content in Pandora’s Box, the only one of good and not evil. When all else fails, hope shall become our weapon. May we be blessed with hope, forever and ever, so that we can hold on to a sense of purpose, a taste of faith, and create the painting of our lives.

Continuer d'espérer.

 

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