I can barely remember what I heard that night, just the not-so-quiet whispers from the room right beside mine. I knew I shouldn’t have but I had still leaned onto the cold and strangely moist wall of my hotel room, eavesdropping on my neighbors for the night. I could make out three different voices: one of a woman, sonorous and strikingly melodic. She could be an opera singer, I had thought. Combined with her prominent accent and the way she elongated the syllables at the end of every sentence, she sounded bizarre yet charming. I could tell, without even seeing her, that she turned every head in a room when she entered. The second was another woman, but in total contrast to the first one; she had a soft voice and gorgeous, gregarious laugh. Every time she spoke, I would have to listen to the others’ response to be able to somewhat make out her words. She sounded like the kind of woman who you wouldn’t believe wasn’t sent right from heaven. The third; a boy, naivete and excitement of youth evident in his voice. He was quite the chatterbox, earning continuous warnings from the women yet never relenting. Still, I could tell he was precious to both of them.
Their rattle chattered through the night. So different, yet all the same, filtering through the muffling wall that reminded me of a field where thousands of yellow dandelions swayed with carelessness, waiting to unfurl their fluffy magnificence once again. At times their voices were so faint that I wondered if they were not just in the next room but the other next. Serious whispers, uncontrollable giggles, playful screaming, roaring laughter… Their voices became more and more distant, getting muffled and fluffy even further with the night breeze carrying sweet scent of a peach tree into my room.
At exactly 12:00 AM an unusual silence fell into the room and I held my breath in a conference of anticipation and anxiety. It felt as though the whole world had grounded to a halt. After a few curiosity filled moments of me being partially paralyzed, awaiting any sound, I heard the door of their room open.
“Happy birthday to you…”
That was the night all of my pain had eventually ceased to exist. All the interminable nights I had spent trapped in that same bed with my ear against the wall, terminally ill and waiting for my hour to strike, had finally came to an end…
After finding out about my sickness, I had ran away. Ran away from everyone, everything, even the truth -more so from facing it. At first they had tried to bring me back yet I had no intention of letting anyone I love watch me erode away in the dissipating breath of my illness. It hadn’t taken long for the phone on my bedside table to go mute. After all, what is always missing becomes unneeded thereafter.
From there on I was lonely, which was okay. One day, while drowning in my solitude, I had heard screams from the room next to mine. Bored, I had absentmindedly placed my ear against the wall and listened to a two-hour-long fight that most likely ended in divorce. From then on, I couldn’t help but lean against the dandelion filled wall every once in a while. Despite my sore joints, sunken eyes, aching head, and ice-cold hands, I closed my eyes and felt an overwhelming sense of tranquility sweep over me… I let my soul loose one last time to the distant melody of a birthday song.