Thank you HappinessMachine, for giving me my first review! You rock!
Heya people! HAPPY NEW YEAR! I'm really excited about the NYE fireworks. Apparently they're going to have horizontal and zigzaggy fireworks this year. WhoooOOOooo!
Happy new year again, and have an awesome time celebrating!
Extracts from Artemis' video diary over the course of a week
I can't believe that Adam and Rowan have passed away due to a fire started by an accident. Even now, no one really knows how the accident started. Some of the theories circulating about the fire include a log that rolled out of the fireplace or an overheated stove. Someone even suggested a 'carelessly thrown cigarette butt'. Don't people have better activities to attend rather than speculating about people's deaths?
On the other hand, Sana has been behaving rather calmly, albeit a calm that resembles a shell-shocked soldier. The officer at the station talking to Mother was seriously mistaken about the speed of the adoption process. She was calculating for normal people, but she forgot that we are Fowls. We being Fowls, the social worker has come and gone, the adoption papers have been finalised (after a little guidance on my father's behalf), but Sana...
Mother and Father have been acting like they have always had a younger daughter, influencing Butler and Major to follow their example, although I suspect that Butler has always had a soft spot on Sana. Maybe because she is the few people my age group that I talk to on a regular basis. Correction, she is the ONLY person my age who I talk with regularly. I don't need to follow anyone's example, for I have always seen her as a younger sister. For example, every time Rowan comes over to talk to Mother, Sana always tags along, and one of the reasons I get along with her is because she likes to read, which then creates conversation between her and me. Another reason is that I have been in her company for as long as I remember. She was born about half a year after me, so for as long as I can remember, Sana has been coming over to Fowl Manor with her mother. I taught her the alphabet as well as teaching her how to read and write properly as well as persuading her out of climbing the tree outside in the garden when we were six. After these incidences, how can I not consider as a younger sister? I confess, it disturbs me to see the normally energetic and cheerful Sana acting lost and miserable. Instead of exuding energy in her every movement, she now drifts like a ship in a fog. Instead of radiating some unidentifiable force, her energy and emotions seem to have been sucked out of her. I imagine that the funeral two days ago only contributed to Sana's condition.
Three nights ago, Mother informed Sana of the funeral held the next day. As Mother broke the news to Sana, Sana informed Mother that she would not wear black to the funeral, as Rowan and Adam had told her before that they wanted a colourful funeral. I recall that conversation as well, as it had been held in the Manor, instead of their bungalow. Mother agreed, and so the next day, we turned up in colour. Father could not attend, as he had a business meeting to participate in, but he offered his condolences to Sana before we left. Sana wore a short bottle green dress with short sleeves, Mother had a pale blue knee-length sleeveless dress on and I had put on a dark blue suit with a matching tie. I thought we would be quite out of place at the funeral, but when we arrived, we belonged to the more conservative group at the funeral. Even though it was a funeral, it looked more like a Christmas party. Some people wore bright colours like bright red and yellow, and some people looked like they were about to go to the beach. Only one person had black on, and that was the priest conducting the ceremony. Sana bore the whole ceremony stoically until the coffins were fully buried in the ground. As people patted her shoulder or shook her hand, her eyes began to lose focus, and at the end of the day, she had become like a ghost.
That was two days ago, and Sana still hasn't snapped out of her stupor. My room being next to hers, I can hear thrashing sometimes during her REM sleep. I suspect the cause to be nightmares. She can't stomach anything heavier than chicken broth, and she hasn't come out of her room since the funeral. Mother is getting more and more worried. I can tell from the way she furrows her brow every time she looks at Sana's bedroom door. In truth, so am I.
It's been a week since the funeral, and Sana still isn't acting a little more like a normal person. In psychology books, they talk about how it all depends on the individual, but how the individual in question should seek professional help when their feelings of shock from the tragedy are extended over extremely long periods of time, which are frequently established at over four weeks. I wonder if Sana would be one of those people needing professional help. Then again, I suspect that she is more resilient. Sana is too cheerful for long, drawn out pessimism. I predict that she will resume a more normal state of mind within the next few days. And I have nearly always been right.
It took Sana nine days to begin functioning like a human. She still can't eat breakfast, but she's come out of her room and she's been eating bits of lunch and dinner. So I was right. As per usual. I expect that I will continue being correct 99% of the time for the rest of my life, leaving 1% to allow for human error. After all, I am human.
Sana walked into the dining room in time for lunch for the first time in nine days and sat down in her seat across from Artemis. Everyone stared, not believing their eyes.
Butler was the first to react. "Good afternoon, Sana. Would you like lunch?"
Sana nodded. Butler turned, and while entering the kitchen, presumably to prepare a plate for Sana, she looked around at the faces at the table. The seat at one head of the table was empty, but the other was occupied by Angeline. She could feel Artemis studying her from across the table.
Angeline smiled tentatively. 'Hello, Sana. How have you been?' Sana took a notepad out and began to write on it. Angeline and Artemis frowned. Finally, Sana was done and held up her notepad in Angeline's direction.
I'm OK now. Sorry for making you worry, Aunty Angeline. And thankyou for taking me in.
'That's fine. Rowan would have done the same for me. Don't call me Aunty Angeline. Makes me sound so distant. Just call me Angeline, okay?' Sana nodded. Angeline hesitated. 'Sana? Why are you writing down your answers?'
I don't know why, but I can't talk.
Angeline read the reply and turned to her son, asking anxiously, 'What's wrong with her? Why can't she talk?'
Artemis frowned deeper. 'It is probable that this isn't a physical problem and more of a psychological issue. The shock of Adam and Rowan's deaths may have impacted so heavily on Sana's mind that her mind has shut down her voice box, therefore disabling her ability to speak.'
'Can't we do anything?'
Artemis sighed. 'No, unfortunately. This can only be solved by Sana, and Sana alone. Even if we want to, we can't help anyone cure a psychological problem.' He turned back to Sana, who looked at him in horror.
Did that all mean that I can't talk anymore?
'No. You can talk, but when you can start talking depends on when your mind lets you go.'
Butler came out of the kitchen, and Sana began to eat her lunch silently. The dining room became silent, broken only by the sound of cutlery on crockery.
Thanks to all the people who reviewed. You made my day.
Actually, it's really hard writing as Artemis. All the nonchalant, casual use of big words (I just used some!) really make my brain work harder than usual!
And to Mystery Loser, I spell curb 'kerb' because that's how Australia spells it, and I'm Australian :] I'm glad you're considering reading my story though, it makes me happy, for lack of a better word :P Anyway, when you do decide to continue on, I hope you see this and that I hope you enjoy it :] Next time you review, could you please sign in/leave an email or something so I can reply to you personally? :D Thanks! ^^
