Our Secret Place

A sad story of how a promise between two friends was broken.

It all started with his desire to be popular. If he never had it, he would never had started hanging out with the wrong people. If he never started hanging out with them, he wouldn't have become like them. He wouldn't have started being a snob. If he never changed, he would never have broken his promise.
    The promise he made to me when we were kids. It was so long ago. Maybe he has forgotten. Maybe it means nothing to him.
    But it does. To me. I would always remember it.
    I gazed around me. A seemingly endless expanse of leaves and branches arch over me, gaps allowing soft beams of sunlight to fall through.
    Maybe, if it was fall, I could feel better being surrounded by so much beauty. Sometimes, at the right place and during sunset, it seems like King Midas's cursed fingers has touched the leaves, and a bit of the gold had spread down. At other places, it seems like the leaves are made of fire, bathing the ground with a rosy glow.
    But right now, it is spring. It is a green canopy that hung above me, not a canopy of so many brilliant colors. I don't hate green, but the autumn leaves always seemed to be more beautiful to me, even when they fall.
    Falling. Before, I have never realized that you could feel like you are falling. Now, I know what it feels like to fear every second, every second that might bring me lower. My heart makes me a nervous wreck and it's made of the heaviest material possible, bringing me even lower. No one will help me; they can't help me. I'm not sure if the only who can stop my fall will help me.
    My heart feels like it's been wrung so many times. Whenever I think of him, my throat tightens. And now, my grip on my black umbrella loosens and it nearly drops to the ground.
    It is a strange notion to bring an umbrella. It isn't raining and it isn't that sunny at all. I brought it because it brought back memories. I could remember when we would go to this forest, and we'll pretend we are fairies. I was a queen who always wore a white dress and had an umbrella while he was my servant who had a strange fondness for hats. Occasionally, it was the other way around.
    I smile sadly. Even now, when I feel like crying because of him, I could still smile. Just because he has changed doesn't mean my memories have. They may be now bittersweet, but they would always be there, moments when everything seemed to be perfect.
    I guess that only happens when you're a child.  
    With each step, I feel more reluctant to go to our meeting place. I don't know if he has forgotten about our promise. I don't want to hear him say that Valerie is the most important thing in his life. I'm scared to hear his reason.
    I'm torn. I don't want to face him, but the hurt won't start to fade until we talk.
    Dilemma. That word is what suits my predicament best.
    My head is bent towards the ground. Dilemma. I remember a time when he and I are in a quiz bee, and he won because I left out one "m".
    Every single thing in my mind always has to concern him and only him, doesn't it?
    I stray from the path and step under the cover of the trees once I see the tree with a broken heart carved on its trunk.
    A broken heart. How fitting.
    Noise is inevitable. There is the rustle of grass and I hear birds flying away. After some time, the trees started to part.
    I step out into a clearing, a random assortment of flowers poking their heads out of the grass. In the center is the remains of a cut-down tree. Coincidentally, it resembles a large heart.
    I am now here. It's beauty couldn't distract me when the mere sight of the forest can. That is simply because this is a part of the cause of my pain.
    Being here just saps my strength. On wobbly legs, I go to sit on the trunk, my fingers fumbling to close the umbrella. Once there, I just drop the umbrella and wrap my arms around myself.
    I feel so cold. So very cold inside.
    I didn't have any time for self-pity or any more sadness because I sensed his coming. I didn't hear him, but somehow, I just knew he is here.
    And I am right.
    His hands are in his pockets. He stands under the cover of the trees, shadows dappling his fair skin. I can't see his eyes properly, and his brown hair nearly matched the brown of the tree trunks'.
    His eyes have always given away his emotions. But this time, his eyes were covered with the shadows.
    I expected myself to feel even colder once I see him. I am not prepared for my strength returning, even if my legs are shaking. But I am in good condition to fight this battle.
    That is what I hoped.
    I don't know how long did it take for him to take a small step. But he did. The wait nearly shattered my confidence.
    His voice is low. "Mia."
    That did it. The fact that he didn't use his nickname for me immediately brought down my wall of courage and Fear starts to march in.
    I look into his eyes. They are as black and as unfeeling as stone.
    He clears his throat. "Why don't we sit down?"
    I surprise him when I say no. I can see it in his eyes. Then they turn unfeeling once again.
    "Suit yourself," he mumbles. "Where do we start?"
    "With," I lick my lips nervously. "With why you brought her here."
    I can't bring myself to look up as he spoke.
    "Take a look around this place, Mia. It's beautiful any time of the day. Sometimes at night, there are fireflies here. During daytime, the flowers brighten up this place."
    I know, is what I want to tell him. I know what you're talking about. We went here to go stargazing without our parents' permission. I remember how we forgot about stars once we saw the fireflies. I know how pretty this whole place is.
    He continues. "This clearing . . . I can't think of a place anymore romantic than this."
    I plummet a hundred feet. The breath I take in sounds shaky. My heart sinks so low.
    Can he remember?
    I am frozen, thinking. That is, until I realize he is waiting for me to speak.
    "Neither can I." Three words. Three words to distract him, to give me something to do.
    Even if I am looking at grass, I couldn't fully focus on it. I give him a glance at the same time he gives a slight nod to himself.
    He sighs. "I suppose you're so numb you can't think of a reply, right?"
    I nod. At least something hasn't changed. He still knows how I feel just by looking at me.
    He gently drags me to the tree trunk. He sits done, making me sit beside him.
    "Do you remember?" I say. I lift my eyes to meet his. I repeat my question.
    His eyebrows wrinkle at the edges ever so slightly. "Remember what?"
    Two words. Tow words that confirms my fear. I feel like I have been burned. I swiftly stand and distance myself from him.
    "Mia?" His voice is so far away.
     I whirl around. I can see his concern. I worry about his mood swings.
    He runs his hand through his hair in his frustration. "What's the matter with you? First, you get all upset because I brought Valerie here. To begin with, there's absolutely nothing wring with that! And now you're not even making yourself clear!" And he says a cuss word.
    I gasp. Then I realize. He has changed so much. I barely know him. Before, I could expect his actions and the words he might say next. Now, he's a stranger in the body of my best friend.
    Many have wished for the ability to turn back time. Now I see why they long for such an unattainable thing.
    I look at him.At least his face won't change. His hair would still be brown, and his eyes would be as black as ink. And at least I know he still cares for me.
    My pessimistic voice asked me how long would he be nice to me.
    I felt like someone has thrown a poisoned dart at me. I have seen how he has snubbed old friends.
    I start to cry. I cry because his "friends" made him so different. I cry because he can't remember the promise when we were eight. The promise to never show this place to anyone else. It was our secret.
    It was. It isn't ours anymore.
    I could see him reaching out for me. I jerk away from him and I run.

Author's Note

It's done. I know the ending is horrible. So please, don't rate this piece of writing. I haven't edited it yet.

Reviews

[Daring Duck]

"Please enter a value less than or equal to 100./100"
Haha, I tried writing 1000/100.... darn it didn't work.
BUT I LOVED IT!!! It is so much better than some work I see in the shops. You can have my house if I can have your gift for writing! please?
It was so touching and it seemed real... omg now I have to friend you. :D

[Ray]

What a sad story !! I really think you make the feelings stand out ! This is REALLY impressing. I'm really looking forward to reading the rest of it !!

[Amy Craig Beasley]

I like the fear marching in image - an army invading --- welcome ---

neat concept - "emotion lied" may be a grammar issue - but does communicate something

[S.G.C.]

Naturally, I'd say it's amazing. LOL. Expect a blog post about One of Dylan's memories soon.

[Tai Ryens]

At first, I didn't think it would quite turn out too well. After awhile, however, it started to get more and more captivating, and the vocabulary even growing bigger as the story progressed. This seemed real, I liked the imagery embedded onto this story. Great write, please inform me if you add any more.

[MiniMoxx]

This is so brilliant: better than I thought it was going to be. (and that was high. lol)
This is full of amazing descriptions and internal thoughts. You have me gripped! I want more! :D