The Indigo Bell [Part 1]

All names, places, and objects in this story may be fictional and they have nothing to do with real life. My apologies if anything in the content makes you feel unpleasant.


October, 2009

A slender stream of sunlight entered through the window, dyed the room with the color of dawn.

In a small room. where  the bed and the desk have occupied nearly all the space, a boy named Al opened his eyes and sat up on his bed.

“Another long day, “, he sighed, “don’t even see the sunrise yet.”

He looked at his alarm. It was 5 a.m.. This meant that he had waken up too early again in every single morning, for six months in a row. He sighed again.

Thanked to the small room he lived in, Al’s furniture were all crumpled together.

His desk was right beside his bed, so when he stood up(without bothered about folding his bed-sheet or anything)

something on the desk immediately caught his attention. It was an album with a dark-blue cover titled “Melody and Al”.

He picked it up and opened the first page, as usual, and started to stare and photographs after photographs without thinking.

There were Melody in all of them, sometimes with Al, too, who always appeared to be shy and excessively embarrassed in contrast to her consistent, innocent smile.

The Al in the present, the one who was holding the album, was too overwhelmed for being exposed to their shared memory again.

He remained standing while looking over photographs with the same gesture, until the very moment of morning had first arrived.

His alarm went off, indicating that it was 7 o’clock already. He shut it off with an unpleasant expression on his face, for it had interrupted the most sacred moment in his life.

Al closed up the album and was readied to put it back to the shelf(“Why was it lying on the desk?”.he thought, “So I did take it out last night, without thinking…“).

At the same time an object fell from the inner pages of the album. A bell dropped onto the concrete floor and made a cling sound. He quickly put the album back to where it belonged to and picked up the bell, as if his life depended on it. It was an indigo bell with a light-blue ribbon tie. He held it tightly, vigorously in his right palm. The absence of a person in his life had never been this heart-aching, until Melody came, then gone in his life.

“I can’t afford to lose you again.”

He placed the indigo bell onto the desk again, and headed to the door without looking back.


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