April 28th, 2002

Two years, nine months (approximately) have passed by and life in England has been incredibly pleasant for Anju.

Thanks to her professors, whose influence kept her inspired, she was able to compose more of her own music; now, she has a few CDs available for purchase, at a cheap price. What once took much effort and skill now comes naturally, a blessing from the heavens compared to the curse placed upon her at birth. With her gift came additional success; she remains one of the best students in her university, now residing amongst the top ten, a great honor.

Although her normalcy was short-lived, the spirits she's seen have been either children or elders, much to her relief; the teenagers were the worst and the young adults were no better. They rarely spoke to her; acknowledged, yes, but no more than that, most of the time. What conversations she did have happened outside of the public eye; for obvious reasons. In general, though, they just kept to themselves, as did she.

Officially, after two years plus, she finally considered herself fully settled into her temporary home.

Sitting on a stool, inside a local grocery store, by the entryway, she plays her violin. Such has become a habit of hers; as a bonus, the tips pay for her rent and grocery shopping. Some days, she's blessed; other days, not so much. In the end, she always has enough cash.

Today, thus far at least, is going relatively well; a few folks have bought her CDs and a few others have tipped marvelously. At this rate, she'd already have the money needed for rent and groceries combined; anything more than necessarily needed, she'd give to Darcie and Lottie, the homeless couple she's befriended, who sometimes hang around outside, in hopes of a blessing of their own. She wishes she could do more. Maybe one day.

In the midst of playing one of the songs from her latest CD, which centers on calm melodies (in comparison to the upbeat ones from the previous, and the sadder tone of the one before that), an older gentleman walks in. Like with everyone else, she didn't think too much of his presence; he's shopping like all the others before, and after, him. Only when he returned, twenty minutes later, to buy a CD as he left did she briefly interact with him.

Flashing a bright smile, and taking a break from her playing, she says "Thank you kindly, Sir. Have a wonderful day." Just as she said to everyone else before him.

Much like many others, he merely bows his head in acknowledgement, silently sending the same message back, and then leaves. If only she knew this short encounter would change just about every aspect of her life, from this moment onward.

May 18th, 2002

Anju keeps to her weekly routine; school, freelancing, alone time. Currently, it's the latter; a day of relaxation and whatever else she can think of to do whilst she's able to do it.

She'll likely visit the bookstore, then the flower shop on the way home. From there, she wasn't certain what she'd do; probably play the piano or nap or something of the sorts. She hardly ever has a plan for these days; she does everything she needs to on all the other days of the week. Maybe she can put grocery shopping as a task for this particular day, whenever she has to gather more food supplies; that way she has something significant to do, at least, to avoid a full day of absolutely nothing.

She steps out of her home, thus truly beginning her relaxation day.

In due time, she arrives at the bookstore. Upon entry, she politely greets the employees, who respond in return, using her first name. Immediately after, she heads to the mystery and fantasy section, which has come to be her favorite genre; romance has become a bit too cliché, non-fiction is turning into the same old stories, just retold by a different author, and while historical fiction is intriguing and occasionally entertaining, it can get old after a bit, since some stories seem too similar.

As she slowly browses through the bookshelves, she catches a glimpse of someone familiar. Turning her head slightly, she spots the older gentleman she's been interacting with for a few days now, though she first saw him about three weeks ago; since then, he's given her, at least, two-hundred and fifty pounds worth of tips. It's why she talks to him a bit more than necessary, whenever they meet at the grocery store; she's yet figured out how to repay his generosity.

He gives her a polite smile and short nod, having immediately noticed her stare. She returns the smile and nods back.

Returning to browsing, she eventually discovers that she cannot find the particular novel she'd been aiming for. So, she heads to the front counter.

"Good morning, Estella," she greets the cashier, smiling pleasantly.

Estella, an elderly woman of over sixty years, smiles back. "Ah, good morning, Miss Anju. Here for a new book?" Again is silently heard; it wasn't said aloud but was heavily implied.

"Yes; I was looking for Queen of Camelot," Anju responded. "And-Or The Child Queen and The High Queen," she adds on, seconds later. Queen of Camelot is merely a combination novel for the other two; if she can't find the single book, perhaps she can get the individual ones, if any of them are available.

Estella types and clicks away at the old desktop computer, in which the catalog of books is kept. After a short time, she frowns and gives out a sigh. "Oh, I'm sorry, dear. We sold the last one yesterday, alongside the other two."

Anju grimaces, disappointed. "It's alright. I'll try again next week. No worries." She bows her head slightly. "Have a lovely day, Estella."

Estella half-smiles. "You as well, dear."

Anju walks out of the bookstore with a sigh, making her way to the next destination; the flower shop. There's not much she wants from there; just another set for her vase, as the previous blooms have withered away. If only they'd last forever.

Her trip lasts a total of five minutes; she walks out with white lilies and purple cosmos in hand. Still a bit disappointed about her lack of a new book, she semi-pouts throughout her walk back to the apartment.

Back at home, she places the flowers in the vase and plays a sad melody on the piano, to further convey her feelings about her morning. Nothing productive occurs for the remainder of the day.

Two days later, when she returns home, she finds a small package leaning against her apartment door. On it is a stick-it note, reading "from a friend, for a friend." Opening the mysterious package inside her home, she's surprised to find perfect copies of all three books she'd wanted a few days prior; the original and combination editions of the Camelot story. When she heads to bed that night, after reading some of the first book, she wonders if her new acquaintance had anything to do with it.

May 26th, 2002

Late into Sunday, a day in which Anju puts most of her focus into freelancing, it's been a particularly hard-working day; it usually is, on these specific days, though not always. She has just finished another set at the local grocery store, in which she frequents, and is taking a well deserved break, to drink water and rest her fingers. An employee at the store briefly watches her belongings for her as she additionally takes a restroom break. Returning, she sits back down in her stool, politely greeting shoppers as they pass her.

She continues her freelancing for another hour.

Finishing up for the day, she puts her belongings aside, with an employee keeping guard again, and begins her weekly food shopping. She happens to pass by the older gentleman she's become acquainted with; she has yet learnt his name. Maybe the next time they speak, she'll finally ask.

With her grocery shopping completed, she returns to her things and gathers them in her hands, the grocery bag hanging from her wrist a bit painfully. She makes a move to step outside of the store when it suddenly begins raining heavily. She sighs; she doesn't have an umbrella and her apartment is some ways away. By the time she gets home, she'll be entirely soaked.

She begins weighing her options, which isn't many. She's not certain if the bus is running today, so she quickly dismisses going to a bus stop; even if it is doing its trails, she'd be waiting or walking in the rain, completely defeating the purpose of trying to stay dry. She will not risk running; she could lose her balance or cause one of the bags to rip, spilling her groceries onto the wet pavement. She can't call anyone; everyone she talks to here are just acquaintances, so she doesn't know their numbers.

Naturally, none of her options are great. So there she stands, at the entrance of the food market, trying to figure out exactly what she'll do.

"Is everything alright, Miss?" someone asks from behind her, someone who sounds older and male. A part of her wants to immediately panic, but the other part wants to sigh in relief; it's only because she's stressed that she's suddenly anxious about those around her, or at least, that's what she's telling herself, in order to keep calm. She wishes to take a deep breath but doesn't; she doesn't want anyone seeing her in such an obvious state of distress.

Although she hesitates, she turns her head to look at the mysterious person; she does sigh in relief then because it's only the elderly man she's been seeing around every so often. Her panic fades. "No, not at all," she states with honesty, comfortable in his presence. "I'm not sure if the buses are running or not, and even if they are, I don't want to walk in this weather to get to one; it could ruin my things. The same goes for running home." She sighs, frowning, looking sheepish. "I'm in an unforeseen predicament."

"Is your home far from here?" the man kindly asks.

She shakes her head. "Maybe a twenty minute walk away." She pouts. "My things and I will be soaked by the time we get there." And now that she's thinking about it more, she'd end up sick if she stays in the rain for that long, if it rains the entire walk there, though that probably wouldn't matter since she'd be soaking wet still.

"Would you like a ride?" he asks. "It'd be no issue."

Her face lights up like a Christmas tree. "Truly?" He nods shortly, humming to himself. He pulls out an umbrella. "I can just borrow your umbrella instead," she suggests, not wanting to be a bother. "And give it back next time I see you."

"If the weather were light, I'd accept the offer, but I'm not willing to risk your safety, nor my own," he states. She looks confused, briefly; she quickly realizes he meant to walk with her if that was the deal they were going with.

"Thank you; I accept the offer," she responds, bowing her head slightly.

Underneath his umbrella, she walks alongside him. Naturally, she should be paranoid about riding with a stranger, but she's spoken to him enough times that there is no feeling of panic or worry. If anything, all she feels is relief, and then amazement when she sees what kind of vehicle he drives; a very fancy one.

Like a gentleman, he takes her things and puts them in the back, within the trunk; he even closes the door behind her when she gets into the backseat, because sitting in the passenger's seat would've made her feel awkward since they don't know each other that well enough for extended conversations.

So, in silence, they ride.

They arrive at her apartment relatively quickly, which is of no surprise, as her home wasn't too far from the food market place anyway. With his assistance, she gathers her belongings and bids him a polite farewell, which he returns. Only when she is inside and he is long gone does she realize she hadn't asked his name, again. And she doesn't doubt he knows hers; it's on all of her musical albums.

She puts away her groceries; thankfully, they have survived the rainfall, just as she has. Giggling at herself for her dramatic thoughts, she makes herself a sandwich. After eating, she starts putting away her belongings; the CDs and such. Only, she pauses; a small black laptop is amongst her things. It's definitely not hers; she'd remember owning it. How'd it even get lost within her belongings? It stands out greatly.

Curiosity gets the best of her; she grabs it. There's no sticky note or anything to suggest that it's a gift to her, but she really wants to turn it on anyway. Then, she notices something; a light on the side of it suggests it's already on, so that just intrigues her further. How did this laptop get misplaced within her things? And why is it still on? Unable to stop herself, as everything about her mysterious savior interests her, she opens it; maybe she'll finally learn his name, unless the username is something creative, like most people go for instead of their actual names.

The screen is completely dark. She expects it to suddenly light up, showing whatever website it's been left on, or even a password log in pop-up, but nothing happens. She tilts her head in confusion. Then, a white neon line appears from the left side of the screen and stops at the other end. A few moments of silence later, it begins to move, in unison with the modified monotone voice that comes out of the laptop, startling her.

"Hello."

Re-Edited on March 3rd, 2024