Novo

“We’re in Trogir, not far from Split now, traffic’s not great round here though.” Darja said, turning the radio down a little and leaning against the window. I smiled to myself, wondering how many times she had made this journey. Margaret was dosing in the front seat, quiet for the first time all week – a fact that was not left unnoticed. The rest of us were all waking up for the first time since the tollbooth. Shining directly above us, the sun had followed us across the countryside, determining our every move.

The city was different, I decided, and I was glad we hadn’t been anywhere near one all week. My camera was resting on my knee, fatigued with excessive use and displaying the last picture I would take of the coast. I flicked through my memory card, laughing at the one of Natalie sleeping yet smiling at the memory.

Our bus journeys had become our lifeline. They were the first things we did together, and soon they would also be our last. I remembered how, back in the car park a week ago, we had all reluctantly climbed into a minibus and left everything behind. Jasmine’s desperate wails ringing in my ears and the rattle of the sunroof, it all suddenly flooded back to me - the way we had met on the grass at Brunel on that first night and discussed what we all expected of the coming week, the arguments we’d had and the battles we’d either won or lost, depending entirely on whether we were fully exhausted, or almost exhausted.

“You see that market there?” Izzy gestured out of the open window, brushing her hair from her sticky face with the early afternoon heat. “I thought we’d be shopping in places like that.” She was right, we all had. The civilised campsite shops with welcoming yet terrifying assistants were a million miles from how my expectations had always imagined. I’d avoided the Starigrad shop after the blow-up over our visit to Benkovac, and anyway, we’d made a rule to stay away from the shop unless we were in charge of shopping – a rule that was mainly and regularly ignored.

“We’ll do it all…everything…” Lauren began, her sunny acoustics filling the bus. We all exchanged glances. Izzy joined in, striking the doorframe with her foot as she let herself feel the rhythm. Darja glanced back at us, chuckling to herself and smiling a smile that spoke of her own memories of being this young. I watched her move the volume and let the sound consume me.

“Let’s waste time, chasing cars, around our heads.” We all continued now, each of us facing different ways, preparing to go back to our separate lives. My eyes squeezed shut, blocking out the radiant afternoon sun. I was numb, I had been tested beyond my own abilities, my body broken by this incredible experience. I thought back to school, I remembered how thrilled I had been at the fact that this was my final association with a place that had given me five unforgettable years.

Split was within metres now. I could see the point of the airport dome and it filled me with nausea. Going home was something that I had never imagined. Even arriving in the country was something that had been near impossible to envisage. Dizzy with reality, it was as if the seat was pulling me in, calling for me to stay.

See, this had been something that was destined to be difficult, it was imprinted in its coding. From the very first day of sign-up when I realised there was nobody I knew, to the stress-inducing fundraising meetings and the tearful last days of school, it had always been intended to serve a purpose.

Every memory of the past week began pouring into my head, filling me up for the future, keeping me safe. I shook, blinking ferociously as my barrier began to fall. I saw the taxis all lined up, the car park we’d stumbled through after spending hours making calls to Heathrow about missing luggage while wading through a mass group debate on when to begin the shopping list. I saw the check-in through the doors and the marble staircase. My companions were restless, the heat suddenly all too much, the knowledge that we were headed home tantalisingly gripping. I did not move, and I did not desire to.

For one final second, I inhaled, letting all of me remember these final moments.

“OK, Split Airport guys.” Darja laughed, watching the boys stumble out from their bus just ahead. “Have a great journey.”

I already have, I thought, and I knew that it would be the best journey I would ever embark upon. The song we had been singing to began building to a crescendo, the bags and the kit began tumbling from the vans into a thick, chaotic mess of memories that would be safe forever and items that would never be used again. This was it, this was the moment that everything would shift. Slav and Darja would go back to Starigrad to collect their belongings, most likely returning to Zagreb after a month or so, Margaret would go back to Belfast and her Guides, Jasmine, Izzy and the others would be back at school in September. For one final time I strapped my bag to my shoulders and stood up straight, and it was in this moment that I knew that life was going to be different, it was going to be whatever I needed it to be and I didn’t mind. 

Notes:

- This was a creatvie writing piece

- The font size is messed up due to it being copied from my Word Document

- Novo means 'new'