The Curious Incident Of The Dog In The Night-time #2

“Time is only the relationship between the way different things change.”

 This quote holds a lot of power. Time is one of the few things in life that is utterly unbiased. You will grow old, regardless of race. Regardless of gender or wealth. We all age and wither to dust. We all die. But we all change with time as well. We grow, we mature. We begin to see the world for what it is, not for that which we wish it to be. For Christopher, he was never truly a child. He always knew he was different. When he is talking about his borderline sociopathic dream, he says people that are special, like he is. This means not only does he know he's different, but he's come to terms with it. The first part is quick, but the latter? It can take years. But I think that it didn't take Christopher too long. Let's look at one of the best shows ever, BBC Sherlock. In this adaptation especially, Sherlock Holmes is a genius who greatly understands how people, but not how people feel. He has no understanding of other people's feelings, giving him a lack of respect for them. He's known he's different since he was young, but his lack of emotion made him less innocent, meaning he came to terms with this sooner. How does this relate to Christopher? For one, Christopher is not innocent. This is shown when he talks so casually about his mother's death. He views it as an unchangeable fact, so he does not get upset over this. Sherlock himself says, "Is me being upset going to bring anyone back? No? Exactly." Christopher sees no point in being upset. Time made him mature, and maturity cannot coexist with innocence.

 With time comes a certain pain. You loose your friends, miss opportunities, and falter under age. I would like to bring up a personal experience for the last point. A week or two ago, I went to a nursing home. I saw all types there, but one in particular truly stood out. A woman with Dementia. She held onto a small doll, and at the time I thought it was an odd sort of joke, but she held the toy with a certain care, a certain affection, as if it was real. I couldn't help but think to myself. Is this not where all lives lead, where all roads end? That woman, at one point,  may've been healthy and joyful. But with time comes change. She could've been rich or poor. Republican or Democrat. No matter what spectrum you may come from, you will grow old with everyone else. Christopher's father knows this. His wife left him. As so did his son. Say what you will about him, but you cannot fault him for his unrequited love for his son. So when his son rejected him, it was as if the only person he loved didn't want him. And with time, he may grow bitter from this rejection (his son states that he's still afraid of him at the end) Hernan Cortes, one of the explorers of the new world, died with vast riches, but was still bitter, and this was a happier ending. So imagine how the father must feel.

 With time comes regret. You may feel as if you didn't live life to your full potential, and that it could be better, but the times gone, and you can't get the years back. Christopher's mother felt this. She felt that with Chris and his father, she was wasting her life. So she left, to live life to the best of her abilities. Was she right to do this? I don't believe so, but all the same, you shouldn't hate your life. I understand why she feels this way. I disagree with the way she went about chasing her dreams however. The Lynyrd Skynyrd song, Simple Man, comes to mind. The song talks about focusing on being satisfied with life, and being happy. Feeling like you've achieved joy. Not being unnecessarily complex. And that is what you should pursue in life.

 People change with time. The worst of humanity was once an innocent child. People that were once evil at the heart can reform, perhaps learn to be a good person. But everything changes with time. Nothing remains forever, and nothing gold can stay. Sometimes, however, things change for the better. The overthrow of a Monarchy, and the establishment of a Republic. Fighting the Caste System. Civil Rights. No matter what form it's in, Time represents Change.

The Great Fall

 

The name is everything. Everything a person is or was can be remembered and defined by a single name. Whenever you have withered to dust just as everyone does, your name will become legacy. And my name is, for this story, Theseus.

   I remember the days in great detail, as if it was all a video to be watched and viewed by an audience. I was 22, studying to become a Forensic Scientist in college. It was a sunny day as I walked around the campus, with the buzz of Atlanta in the ears of its residents. That was when I found the note that would change my life. Fourteen words that would change everything I am. I found the note on a bench. It was already opened and said, "Three days, and I'll end it all. Three days, and I'll take the fall." At this point, I had shut everything else out. Atlanta no longer had a buzz, the sun, no longer a shine to give. It all faded to the wayside. Someone needed to be saved from themselves. Course, could just be someone wanting attention. I had run this thought through my head several times and found it to not be true. The note had drops on it, not rain, as it hadn't rained in days, but rather, they were teardrops. And every teardrop's a waterfall. The note was recent, very recent. The pen used was a fountain pen, one that took time to dry. The handwriting was personalized; written in cursive, but there weren't any loops on the lower case h's, g's, and y's. No dot above the i. I had, without knowing it, crossed out possibilities.

 The name is everything. Her name is Trinity. The girl had sat beside me for so many years, she was always quiet, always smiling. A ruse, I thought. It was all a mask. I found her handwriting in an old yearbook that she'd signed. She was nowhere on campus, another sign it was her note. I had to find her, quickly. It had taken me an entire day to match the hand-writing. I was going to find her. She will live. I thought on it, and wondered who would most likely know where she would be. She was an enigma. No significant other. No close friends. So all that remains is family. I'd seen her address on an assignment, it was a distance from the city. After catching a cab, I found her house. It was a decent size, with a majesty to it unmatched by the surrounding dwellings. I knocked on the door and waited. Her mother answered, and asked, "Oh, hello dear, can I help you?" She was a woman of a short stature and I immediately took her to be of a genial disposition. She had her daughter's features, dark, auburn hair, blue eyes, skinny frame, but not unhealthily so. Her voice had a southern drawl to it, as opposed to mine, which is rather British in contrast. "Hello, madam. I'm a, ah, friend of Trinity's. I was hoping to speak with her. Is she around?" The mother's eyes fell, as if the weight of the world was upon them. "No, she went to her uncle's house in Greece." A lie, I thought. Her eyes raised to the upper left as she said this, meaning she was making a new mental image, one that didn't actually occur. The side of her lip quivered, and her pupils dilated slightly, indicating fear. "Ah well. Leave a message for me. Tell her Theseus would like to speak with her."

 I walked away, feeling hopeless, but then I thought. From these small communications, I may have worked out the answer as to where she would be. The way she worded it spoke her means of death. She would jump. I tried to think. The last place she was seen was the campus, but she couldn't jump off of the roof because she can't get on it. So she'd have to go somewhere else. The college is in a rather small town with only a few buildings tall enough for what she wanted to do near by. The buildings were all office buildings and would only let certain people in, meaning she couldn't get into those... There was something I was missing! Something so close to the eye, but I'd may as well be blind. I thought, and tried to remember something I may have missed. Allen Plaza. Her father worked at Allen Plaza. He was high up, as is shown by the house and an expensive car. Trinity's mother, she was wearing a badge from the area. If anyone could get in, Trinity could.

I got there at 3 that morning, as she could come at anytime. How did I get in? I have my own methods. Every tear is a waterfall. Maybe Trinity's river ran dry. These thoughts went through my mind as I wondered what reason she'd have. Part of me was afraid I had been wrong, and went to the wrong building. You're good at figuring things out, My friend had once said. But no, this was easy. It's simply a matter of balancing out the proportion of probability to overall logical likelihood.

 It was 2 in the afternoon when Trinity arrived. "What in the name of sanity are you doing here?" I simply held up the note and she understood. She sat next to me and said, "I'd ask how you knew, but I really don't care. My question is why? You don't know me really well, so why try?" I looked out at the city and said, "Because, I don't want you to do this. Why would you?" She laughed with an absence of humor, "I'm so alone, Theseus. My family doesn't care, I don't have friends, not anymore. What's the point? You're born. You live. You die. No matter how much you accomplish, life is unbiased. As is death." Her words shocked me, but I tried to retaliate with my own point. "Trinity. Life is hard. It is long and hard, and quite frankly, it's dangerous to care sometimes. But, if you never try, you'll never know just what you're worth. And listen. We're all stories, in the end. Just make this one remarkable. Make it long. Make it good." She looked at me pointedly. "You don't know me. Why do you care?" I thought, and I answered, "Because. You deserve to be happy. To live a full life. Please. Realize that I care. Let me help you through this storm. And I don't really care how bad it gets. I want to save you. I want to help. Please. Don't jump." She sighed. Then she answered with one word of which had enough power to haunt me to this day. She said, "No."

 I'm not going to lie. I was haunted by this. I could not eat. I could not sleep. I didn't talk nor respond. Until I met Her. The girl I had always seen but never spoke to. She found out, and she helped, more than she knows. She became my best friend, as well as the one I love. And when she goes through the bad parts of life, I try to help her through. But sometimes I think back to Trinity, and it pains me to do so. But the girl I know now, I try to right the wrong I've done and I try to be the best I can be for her. And my message to you is this. Learn from the past. Had I noticed Trinity, I could have helped. I didn't, and she paid. But the girl I know now, well, I try my best to help her, to the point of annoyance. I've learned from my past, but I haven't let go. I don't want to. To let go means to forget. I have no desire to forget the girl named Trinity. It's like when people say if you love it, you'll let it go. Love is more than that. Love is knowing when to not let go, and when to hold on. Because sometimes, that person may be pleading for someone to hold on. So don't let go.