The Scent of Her Song by Kristina Kostenko

It happened in my dad’s garage,

on a quiet rainy day. The air was cold and still. I was looking for something, I don’t even remember what, when I saw her old guitar in the corner. I hadn’t touched it since she left. My heart started beating faster.

Then I smelled something. It was vanilla and lavender. Her perfume.

The scent was so strong it felt like she had just walked by. Like she was still there. I closed my eyes and in a second, I was back.

Her name was Katy. She was seventeen, like me. But she lived a very different life. Katy had a rare illness — xeroderma pigmentosum. It meant that even a few seconds in the sunlight could kill her. The sun would burn her skin, damage her body, and could take her life.   

So she spent her whole life inside a house with dark tinted windows. Her dad was her only family, and he always protected her. He never let her go outside during the day. Only after sunset, she could go for walks. Only after sunset, she could feel free.

She was lonely sometimes. She couldn’t go to school or meet many people, no beach, no summer fun, nothing. But she found her own way to live. She played guitar, wrote songs, and looked at the sun from her window.

But Katy had one secret joy — her window.

Every day, she sat behind the glass and watched a boy from her street. He was just a normal guy, playing guitar, laughing with friends, riding his bike. But to Katy, he was everything. She knew the way he smiled when he talked to his dog. She knew hifavouritete jacket. She even learned what music he liked because sometimes he played it loud enough to hear. But he didn’t know she existed. Every day he walked past her house without ever lifting his eyes.

Still, Katy watched him for years. He became her dream.

One night, everything changed. Katy took her guitar and went to the train station after dark. She started playing softly, singing one of her songs. The boy was there, the same one from her window. He heard the music and stopped. For the first time, he saw her.

They started talking. Then meeting every night. They fell in love under the stars.

But one morning… she made a mistake. Katy stayed out too long. She didn’t notice time, me and the first rays of the sun touched her skin. She felt the burn. She ran home, heart pounding.

That night, she said to her dad:  “The sun has already touched me. Please let me live the rest of my time the way I want. Let me be with him. Even if it’s for a little time.”

Her father cried. But he said yes.

The next days were the best and the worst of our lives. We did everything she had always dreamed of. We watched the sunrise, laughed, danced. She smiled more than ever before. She said, “I finally feel alive.”

Before she died, Katy gave me a cassette. “Play this when you miss me. I'll be there,” she said. “It’s my song for you.”

Now, standing in the garage, I held the cassette tape in my hand. The air still smelled like her, vanilla and lavender.

I played the song. Her voice filled the room.

I have seen a thousand things,

A thousand minds and what they bring

To this world and to this home

But where I stand, well, I don't know...

I'm an open book,

I'll tell you everything I know...

Tears filled my eyes. I miss her so much, remembering every moment. Her voice was alive, and at that moment, so was she. But I’m grateful, too. For the nights we had. For her bravery. For her love. She used to say, “You never saw me before. But I saw you every day.”

Now, I see her everywhere.

In the music.

In the flavour.

In the quiet.

She is my midnight sun — the brightest light in the darkest time.