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Octavia

Published : Saturday, 9 January, 2021 at 12:00 AM  Count : 1537

Octavia finds herself standing in the middle of a road parting the woods. The darkness is interrupted by one solitary vintage lamppost, flickering from time to time.
"Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky�"
Octavia hears a faint sound of a woman singing in the distance. But isn't that a poem by Tennyson? Who set it to music?
"The flying cloud, the frosty light:
The year is dying in the night:
Ring out, wild bells and let him die."
The woman carries on with her singing, her voice becoming more and more audible as she does. Is she drawing near? Perplexed, Octavia turns around and there she is - a tall woman in what looks like a creased wedding dress. The chiffon veil obscures her face. Just as Octavia's gaze lands upon her feet, fear rips through the length of her. She can see the woman levitating about half a foot above the ground. She tries to scream, but she can't. It is as if she has been muted. She tries to run, but she can't move a single muscle. Frozen in fear, she stands there in the road in the middle of the woods.
Octavia is awakened by a blaring train horn. Bathed in sweat, she asks her mother for a bottle of water. Her voice quavers as she does so.
"Oh , dear. Did you have one of those nightmares again?" Mrs. Davis asks.
"Yes. How long before we reach Yorkshire?"
"No more than two hours."
"Still two hours? Oh , no."
Octavia drinks the whole bottle of water at once, which she knows she'll regret later, as the toilet on the train is a nightmare itself.
Whenever she travels by train at night, she makes an effort to stay awake the whole time. However, there's something about the rhythmic movement of the train that always puts her to sleep.
Octavia silently takes her diary and a fountain pen out of her Gladstone bag, heedful of not waking anyone up in the compartment. Giving the pen a shake, she begins to write.

"25thNovemeber, 1915
We are on a train to Yorkshire. Father said it wasn't safe anymore in London, after the bombing at St. Paul's cathedral took place. So we abandoned our beautiful life there and decided to move to my mother's hometown Yorkshire to live with our grandmother. Father isn't coming with us though. As the commandant of the camp, he has to stay in London. No one knows when this war will end. I'll miss him. I'll also miss my two best friends Dorothea and Meredith; and those long solitary strolls by the river Thames; and reading books sitting on a bench in Hyde park, in early Autumn; and� everything."
Octavia pauses writing and looks out the window. Dawn is breaking. The sun is gradually opening up as a flower on the horizon. An orange hue spreads across the blue sky. Everyone in the compartment is still fast asleep. It's just Octavia and a blazing sunrise right before her.

Mrs. Anderson, Octavia's grandmother, lives in a three-storey brick house in the country side of Yorkshire. It stands picturesquely on one of the hills behind a well-known motel. A cobblestone path leads to the house, surrounded by a flower garden, which is the fruit of her lifelong hobby.
Mrs. Davis strikes the door with the metal ring knocker. Almost instantly, Aunt Joanne opens it. She looks pale and somewhat old. The last time Octavia saw her, she didn't have wrinkles in her face.
"Oh, look at you! You're all grown up! How old are you now, sweetheart?"
"Umm...Sixteen." Octavia says rather hesitantly.
"Sweet-sixteen! Miranda just turned fourteen. She couldn't be more excited to see you."
"Miranda's here?"
"Yes. So is Jimmy."
Octavia may be in her mid-teen years, but knowing that she and her cousins are going to be in the same house for an indefinite period of time makes her as happy as a child on the day before Christmas.
After dinner, Mrs. Davis reminds Octavia to take her medication. Surprised, her grandmother asks,
"Medication for what?"
"Oh, mother..she has trouble sleeping."
"Isn't she too young for that?" Grandmother chuckles.
They both politely ignore the question and head upstairs to bed.

As usual, before going to bed, Octavia's grandmother comes downstairs to check if the door has been locked. On her way back, she finds Octavia in the living room, sitting in an arm chair, staring into space.
"Sweetheart, what are you doing here? Didn't you take those medicines?'' she asks
"Grandma.."
"Yes? Oh God, you're shaking! You poor thing..what's wrong?"
"Grandma, I don't have trouble sleeping. It's just that when I sleep, I have all these.."
Octavia breaks down into tears.
"All these what?"
"Nightmares.. I have these recurring nightmares when I sleep. And I just don't.." she gasps.
"I just don't want to go to sleep. I don't ever want to go to sleep."
Mrs. Anderson places the lantern on the table and sits on the sofa facing Octavia.
"Vent it out, dear. Vent it all out." She whispers
Wiping her tear-stained face with a handkerchief, Octavia begins to talk.
"It's been two months since it started. My psychiatrist thinks the bombing at St. Cathedral took a toll on my mental health and resulted in me having these horrifying dreams. I don't even remember the last time I had a sound sleep. I lost my appetite. I lost my interest in doing everything I used to like."
Octavia takes deep breaths, looking at the ceiling.
"And it feels so real when it happens. So, so real. There's no getting used to it."
Mrs. Anderson wraps her arms around Octavia, kisses her on the forehead and whispers into her ear, "Just hang in there, sweet pea. Everything's going to be alright."

December in Yorkshire is unbearably cold. On top of that,Pneumonia, the merciless, engulfs Octavia. She lies in her bed, scarcely moving. With each passing day, her condition worsens. But Octavia cannot be less bothered. Her hold upon this world has already grown weak. She has nothing to lose or to gain.
One morning, the doctor calls Mrs. Davis to the hall room to have a word with her alone."She needs sleep." The doctor says "Two hours of fitful sleep a night is clearly not enough. Now that my patient is adamant that she won't try and have some sleep, I'm afraid we'll have to seek refuge in tranquiliser."
The next morning, the doctor injects the sedative into Octavia's veins, telling her it's just a drug she needs to recover from Pneumonia. Then, after months, Octavia, as fragile as an autumn leaf, falls asleep.
Octavia never wakes up from sleep again. In the small, isolated village in Yorkshire, people are quite superstitious. Thus, rumour has it that she gets trapped inside one of her nightmares forever. Some, on the other hand, speculate her soul ascends to a world, where there is no such thing as a nightmare. However, doctors say, that her body, being ever so weakened by the dreadful pneumonia, simply gives in at last.
Months after Octavia's passing, Mrs. Davis finds her diary inside her Gladstone bag. She flips through the pages to see what she has written last. A drop of tear rolls down Mrs. Davis' face as she reads the very last page.
"I am covered in blanket, yet shivering in cold as I am writing this. My whole body is aching too. I have a feeling the end is near. I doubt that I'll make it to Christmas. But don't you worry momma bear. I've been a good girl all my life. So have you. We'll meet in heaven and you'll put me to sleep singing a lullaby, the one that goes like,

"Hush little baby, don't say a word,
Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird.
And if that mockingbird won't sing,
Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring."

Shahreen Khan Taan is an
A levels student






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