Frayed Fragments of a Fevered Diarist

art by Sneha Lakamsani, writing by Scarlet M.

12/19/202X

Hello again diary, I’m back home! 

I haven’t been here in ages, but the family insisted I come back this year since everyone’s coming here to celebrate Christmas. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to drive back to my parents’ house after an exam, but I’m looking forward to collapsing in my bed once I’m done writing this.

Speaking of which, I found you again while cleaning out some old junk. It still reeks of senior year angst, but here you are, almost four years later. I’m already in my room staying up past midnight doing whatever. It’s almost like past-me is still here, and I think past-me would be disappointed to find your pages rotting in dust. I’ll start writing again, it’s the least I can do for that child.

To be honest, everything feels colder and more distant than it was before. I know it’s been years, but chills still run down my spine every now and then. I’ll see if I can convince Papa to up the heater, but I’m sure things will start warming up.

More relatives arrived as the day continued. I’m surprised my arms haven’t fallen off yet with how much luggage I helped carry in today. Maybe they’re still attached thanks to all of the hugs I’ve gotten squeezing them back in place.

I saw so many people I haven’t seen in a while, but I was mostly surprised at how many new people I saw. I almost slammed the door on a complete stranger, only to find out he was my cousin Coco’s fiancé! I wanted to slam the door on myself at the moment, but I had to help prepare dinner almost immediately.

When there’s enough people in a house to be considered a fire hazard, you’re bound to overhear a lot of stories. I didn’t realize so many people in my family had senior jobs already. Even the cousins younger than me are getting into internships and colleges I could only dream of.

Maybe I was too distracted. I think I got a headache from the stove’s flames. Coco was able to cover for me, but I’m sure I’ll be fine. Papa locked eyes with me as I went to my room to rest. Our lips remained shut, but his face ripped me back to childhood. His screams over mediocre test grades and rejection letters echoed in my mind for what felt like years.

Whatever. It should be all in the past. I’m back in my room now, but I can still hear my family howling like wolves over their stories. I’m sure I’ll join them soon.

12/22/202X

Hey diary, I don’t remember much of yesterday. The headache’s gotten worse and it’s brought everything else down with it. I can’t stand up for long or else I collapse on the floor. I’ve been sweating since sunrise, and my skin is as red as the wallpaper. It sounds like a rusting engine every time I cough. I’m locked in this room, and with the way I’m moving I might as well be on a ball and chain. I was crawling through the closet to see what else I can find other than this diary, and I found my old plushie dog Marm, fabric fur still as bright orange as the marmalade I named her after.

Mama and Papa would always scold me for being unrealistic, so she was the only one who’d listen to me ramble about my dreams for the future. I can almost see our conversations etched into her fur. I promised I’d take her to space as a child, but the promises got smaller as time went on. I wanted to become a veterinarian to keep her healthy, only to go back and promise I’d open a restaurant named after her. I think the last promise I made was to at least get rich enough to buy her a friend.

I tried talking with Marm again, but I couldn’t bring myself to promise her something new.

12/24/202X

Everything is so much worse. A trail of snot sweeps through from my nose to my clothes to the bedsheets and pillowcases. Used tissues make up a minefield on the floor. Mama would probably kill me if this fever doesn’t get to me first. I’d try to clean it up but pain envelops every muscle I try to move for too long. The only relief I get is when I’m asleep, but it’s easier said than done when it feels like there’s nails going through your brain. We unfortunately ran out of antibiotics, and with the stores being closed for Christmas, I don’t think I’ll be getting them for a while.

When I’m not asleep, I’m chained to my bed. I couldn’t even find the strength to write yesterday. I spent all I could remember just looking at the polaroids hanging on the wall, snapshots of middle school memories and high school highlights frozen in time. I still keep in touch with some of them, and every time we talk, there’s nothing but light in their eyes as they talk about how far they’ve come since high school. I’ve lost contact with most of these people, but the last I heard of them they were always preparing for something spectacular like beginning a startup or traveling the world.

I’ve been interrupted by some noise while reminiscing every few minutes or so. It’s coming from the family, but I’m not sure what it is. It’s usually some familiar melody, muffled by layers of walls, but by the time I get close to figuring out what it is, it’s immediately cut off by a cacophony of claps. I’m still not sure what it was, but the only thing I heard clearly was their smiles while I’m still here in my childhood room, frozen in time. The polaroids and family stood above me, taunting me.

No, I’m just being silly. I’m just in my head. This is just a fever. It’ll pass, and I’ll get better. I will be better. I have to be better.

12/27/202X

Diary, I woke up this morning with a knock on my door. While she wasn’t Santa Claus, I was still surprised to see Coco barge into my room. Apparently her fiancé had to leave for work and she felt bad that I missed out on the annual Christmas Eve karaoke. She gathered all the gifts meant for me and brought them down here, alongside a brand-new bottle of antibiotics I thanked her profusely for. She even microwaved some leftovers for me, and I couldn’t complain about that. Papa’s cooking is still his cooking, no matter what form.

The ensuing conversation was hours long, but I only remember her pointing out the giant magnolia tree in the backyard.

We talked a while about it, with Coco rambling on about different things magnolias symbolized. I feel bad for not listening, but I couldn’t help but remember when it was first planted.

I didn’t realize it was the same tree I remembered from way back when I was a toddler. Watching my parents plant it was probably one of my first memories, and yet, there it was, the same tree as the tiny sapling that existed in my head. Those two things being the same felt almost wrong, but I guess it was just growing too slowly to see. It still grew despite the rough beginnings we had trying to take care of it.

My heart already feels lighter. I think the antibiotics are working.

12/29/202X

Today felt the clearest it has been in a while, diary. I woke up this morning and I finally felt ready to join the festivities. I wasn’t sure if my legs were shaking from the fever’s after-effects or something else, but I eventually stood face to face with the rest of my family. It felt like there were butter knives in my stomach as I made eye contact with everyone. Everyone’s eyes widened as if I was a ghost, and my mind immediately started racing. Was it pity in their eyes? Fear? Anger?

I had one foot tiptoeing back down the stairs when Mama ran up and embraced me with tears of joy. She immediately dragged me to the kitchen table and placed a feast’s worth of food in front of me, commenting about how thin I looked. It was good to know some things never changed.

One by one, I caught up with different relatives as they grabbed more food. I initially couldn’t shake the feeling that I’m dragging them behind. It felt like they had everything I could ever want, but they immediately dissuaded those thoughts. I don’t have much to celebrate like they do, but everyone toasted me just for…existing. It felt weird, but I’m okay with that.

The night ended with a familiar sight and sound: the family karaoke machine. For a moment, the world around us didn’t matter. It was just us, the music, and the lyrics we were all hopelessly butchering. I know we’ll all have to go our separate ways soon after, but for once, it felt good to be frozen in time.

12/31/202X

Hello again diary! I wanted to eke out one last entry before the new year, so I ducked out of the party for a bit so I could write under the magnolia tree.

Truthfully, I’ve been thinking about past-me a lot these past days. I still wonder what dreams they had and whether or not I could still reach them. Maybe I’ll finally be able to buy Marm the friend she deserves. Maybe it’s a fruitless endeavor to worry about this right now. None of my past-me’s dreams panned out yet, but I’m still here under the magnolia tree. That’s gotta be worth something, right?

I hear the countdown happening, but I can’t bring myself to go inside. I’m sure the stars outside would look even more beautiful if I was up there with Marm, but they still look beautiful tonight, a tapestry of lights shining down on me and this magnolia. I still have a lot to do, but I know I’ll be fine. If the magnolia can make it, so can I.

Here’s to you, diary. I don’t intend on leaving you behind. Here’s to you as well Marm, I’ll be bringing you to college too.

1/1/202X

And here’s to us, past-me. I hope you’re looking forward to watching us make it in the new year.