Forgotten Memories

The sun had set hours ago, yet the image of brilliant oranges, light reds, golden yellows, peachy pinks, cotton candy purples, and numerous shades of blues still burned in my memory as the sun once burned my eyes. Tall, slightly swaying trees surrounded the unfamiliar neighborhood in which I found myself, making the unlit rocky road scarily dark, for the moon had not yet crawled high enough to peek through millions of full, thick tree branches.

Bringing my attention back to the group of teenagers that I stood in an imperfect circle with, I noticed that many were staring at me. This wasn’t unusual, though, when I chose this area of town to spend my time; my ghostly white skin was not often welcomed among these people who seemingly blended in with the blackness of the night. Although I could not see the details of faces without glasses, a quick glance at a familiar face five feet away from mine confirmed the plans. The second a deep voice began slowly, but loudly counting, the small group broke apart, silencing all whispers and quietly sprinting in different directions towards personal, pre-planned destinations. Released from the circle of bodies, I finally felt the somewhat chilly breeze gently blowing through my thin, blue hoodie as I jogged close behind the familiar face I had earlier locked eyes with; summer was nearly over.

We broke through ruffling leaves in a flurry, causing sound to escape into the air. Invisible from any eyes wandering along the road, we began to take slower, lighter steps across the first leaves of autumn and the easily breakable twigs that covered the ground. The two of us weaved endlessly through thinner trees, me nearly latching onto him, as I could not see where he was leading me. He came to an abrupt stop, causing me to trip over him, straight into a pile of dirt. A laugh burst through his lips, but was muffled by slender hands that I imagined to be soft so to not attract our hunters. Suddenly, the distinct sound of a large twig cracking echoed towards us; we were not alone. Without hesitation, he instantly accompanied me behind the pile of hard dirt. Our ears stayed alert, expecting to hear footsteps coming in our direction, but the only audible sound was the chattering of my teeth.

Arms slinked around me, pulling me into a sideways hug for warmth. I tilted my head up so that I could see the familiar face better than I could from a number of feet away earlier; it was nearly the same shade of pale as my face was. When he focused his eyes on mine, though, I didn’t look away with embarrassment; instead, I continued to stare at him. The longer our eyes were locked in the blurry darkness, the more we knew — about each other, and about our feelings. No words needed to be spoken. It was as if we could see into each other’s minds and souls by simply looking each other in the eye; it was as if our eyes were the windows to our soul, begging to be looked through. There was no doubt about it: we felt the exact same. Butterflies filled our stomachs, fluttering about and tickling our insides, leaving us both speechless — as if words needed to be spoken. A connection had been made between us.

Unfortunately, our meaningful gaze was rudely interrupted by something — a person — crashing through the bushes and wildly screaming “I found you!” A grin plastered itself across my face as I slowly rose and brushed the dirt off of my now-brown hoodie. With the young teenage boy bounding ahead of us through the woods, we tread side by side back to the official meeting place while our hearts calmed down and the butterflies floated away, left behind with the memories.