28.08.19

I see him everyday as I gaze out of my window. The boy of my dreams. He sits on the beach and sketches the horizon. I can just make him out with my eye, but if I look through my telescope I can see his face. I can see his sparkling, bluey-grey eyes as they reflect the sea, every crease in his forehead as he puzzles over which section to draw today and his smile, oh his smile, his perfect smile that slowly grows larger as he picture comes together. I like to think that he smiles at me.

Why oh why won’t Father ever let out of the lighthouse? He says that the world is an evil place, full of sin and temptation, and he’s only protecting me from it. But it can’t be all bad surely? I’m not supposed to know any of this, but there are some fantastic people out there. Malala Yousafzai, for example, she campaigned for girls’s education and almost got killed for it. Albert Einstein is another great person. He discovered that space and time are the same thing and formulated the Theory of General Relativity, one of the pillars of modern physics! He can’t know about these people, if he did, then he would never look at the world the way he does.

If only I could talk to him, the boy on the beach I mean. Even if it was just one conversation, one sentence even, and I would be happy. I would hide away in here for the rest of my life if it was the price to pay. If only...

29.08.19

Last night in bed I had a brain wave. Father got me a paper airplane kit for Christmas last year, and one of them might be able to fly the 500 metres to the shore when the tide is out. I could get a message to him that way. I rummaged through my cupboards to find it, frantically hoping that I hadn’t thrown it away. Thanking God as I pulled it out, I began to look through the instructions. 300 metres, 250 metres, 400 metres, none of them were good enough, not until I reached the last one. 500 metres!

I found a pencil and began to write my message. A few minutes later, it was written and the plane was folded. I opened my window, and threw it, praying that it would make it. My heart was racing as it bobbed up and down, almost touching the sea. A final gust of wind carried it to the shore.

A minute later, he noticed it, walked over and unfolded it. He read it and I hoped that he would understand why I had sent a paper airplane of all things. As finished reading it, he looked up towards my window - and smiled.