So school is really hard right now so I won't be uploading as much as I did, I think.
11. writing on the wall
"so, this is my room" I look around the small square bedroom, all the walls are white and it's all very simplistic. There is a bed, a desk, a drawer and a guitar, this room is so like Beca. Although it doesn't say much about her like I hoped it would, I'm still happy she invited me here, it feels like a step closer to being her friend. It's difficult though because I've never met anyone as closed off as her, she doesn't have many friends, she never talks about her family of her feelings and it appears that she doesn't have many hobbies either. It's just really weird, all this would normally mean that she's just a boring person that nobody wants to hang out with but instead of that I thinks she's fascinating, mysterious and I can't help but want to know all about this brunette that randomly showed up in class one day. She didn't even say her name, she just sat in the back and listened to the professor.
I've gotten quite far, I'm in her house now, if we could even call it a house but whatever, and she speaks to me, sorta. My gaze keeps looking for something, searching for something to help me figure out this girl, but there's nothing, no pictures on the wall, no clothes on the floor. Not a single thing, even the bed is made and the desk is cleaned, the desk is interesting though, it's one of those really old wooden desks that nobody would ever expect finding in this girls bedroom and the chair in front of it is of the same fashion but looks like it could break any minute. There are some books on the small table besides the bed, I don't recognize any of the titles, in fact, I don't think they're in English. It looks like Arabic or something, Beca can read Arabic? That's really cool, it doesn't look like any Arabic I've seen though, it's a strange mix with Chinese of Japanese maybe. I don't know, I'll let it rest for now.
A few days later I visit her again, we go to her room and I'm once again met with the same white walls and the same lay-out. But when I look I see there's writing on the walls, there are some words that are definitely not English but there are also quotes and little stories, even drawings. It's all very little and I don't want to be a terrible friend by snooping, but even from this far I can see that they're good drawings, all done with a marker. Not only the writing but also the doodling, it's like Beca uses this wall as a notebook. I wonder what would make her want to write things down instead of talking about them, and most of all I wonder why she puts them on her wall instead of an actual notebook, or a diary even.
The next time I see Beca's room is a few weeks later, finals have come and gone so we were both busy studying. The writing is taking up an entire wall now, it's even covering parts of the desk, it's even more confusing now. at some extend I get writing on a wall, I get that it's easy to let frustration out on a wall but I don't get why she'd fuck up a perfectly fine desk by writing all sorts of useless words on it, sure the handwriting is simply beautiful and the drawings are just perfect but still. It is, or was, a nice desk. I mention the writing to Beca but she just shrugs it off, she clearly doesn't want to talk about it so I leave it, for now. In the meantime I'm getting to know her more and more, nothing about her family but I learned that the small brunette plays almost every instrument and she can sing. I didn't really expect that, she never sings, she almost never talks and I've never seen her play any instrument so I ask her to play something for me. After some persuasion she grabs the guitar in her room and sits down on her bed, she starts playing a song I don't recognize at first but when she softly starts singing I do and I can't help the tears that appear in my eyes. She's playing thank you by Dido, I'm sure she doesn't really mean it but there has to be a reason she played that song.
In the weeks after that day I come to Beca's room almost every day, the writing is insane, it's even on her dresser, her chair and her bed. How does she even do that, everywhere I look words are written doodles are drawn. That's not the only thing I started noticing about Beca, she's not like any other person. I think she has a photographic memory, she literary remembers everything she sees or hears. And she's able to describe those things in so much detail that's it's really creepy, so I googled it. Because google has all the answers… and apparently she has an eidetic memory or hyperthymesia, the first meaning she can remember all pictures like she sees them right in front of her and the second meaning she can remember everything that happened in her life. That must also be why she never studies for exams, she can recall everything the professor said. The small brunette is a lot more than I thought she was.
I'm over at her place again and I'm sitting on the bed, she's silent, I'm (for once) silent. I look into those stormy blue eyes and can't help but wonder what she's thinking. I look at the wall behind her as words start to appear, it says should I tell her and I'm freaking out internally. My eyes are wide and I'm looking at Beca for an explanation, she sights knowing what happened without looking behind her.
"they're my thoughts Chlo, I don't write them down. These walls are like a white board that mirrors my mind and when it's full, it just wipes itself clean and start all over again. Now you read the thing behind me right" I nod, she continues "I've been thinking about telling you for a while now and I guess that line of thought was so important that it got a place on my wall, I'm sorry for keeping a secret"
I did it, I smile at the small brunette and pull her in for a hug, softly whispering that it's okay. I finally know Beca and she trusts me enough to spill something like this, she's so special.