A Nightmare's Fate

Playing in the Park

            "Get out of my window," I say. It's something that I used to do with my friend's when we were all younger.

            "There aren't any spaces for 'windows' between us, so you can't really say that," he announces.

            "Well, what a way to bring me down," I joke, but my tone says otherwise as it's like being rude.

            He blushes, and it's easy to see the red make its way to his cheeks since his face is so pale that I think it may turn pink from the freezing air. "I'm sorry, I––" he begins, but I cut him off with a chuckle.

            "Doesn't matter now, you said it. You can't undo the past.” I suddenly realize what I just said. My mind goes back to the recollection of Kenton and how grief overwhelmed me with the loss of him. But why now do I think of him? A whole day practically past by and I just now started thinking of Kenton, why is that? Is there something about Errik that makes me forget all the agony I'm going through?

            "Whatever," he says in a girlie voice that makes me want to laugh so hard, that liquid will drop down my legs.

            "I dare you to jump off now." I pump my legs harder to get higher. But I'm going so fast and so high that when I drop back down, my butt comes off the seat and goes back on.

            He laughs like it's not a challenge at all. "I dare you to jump off," he mimics.

            I ponder through my clarification. "How 'bout we both jump?"

            His smile grows wider and nods his head. "On three, okay?"

            We try our hardest to get as high as we can and at the same time. "One . . . two . . . three!" I say and we both land on the white, crystal snow. The cold feeling is on my skin, especially on my face as most of the coat is on my cheeks, forehead, nose, and chin. I raise my head up and wipe it off as it falls onto my lap.

            "That was fun." He shakes his head as if he's a dog and stands. Once he does, he holds out his hands for me to take and helps me up.

            "Agreed," is all I can say. "I'll race you to the monkey bars!" I start running, in hopes that I don't slip. "Are you the best at climbing the monkey bars?" About two feet away, I hop and grasp the metal pole first, but fall since it's slippery.

            He does the same, but for him, his hands are big enough to wrap around the entire pole and stay. "You beat me to them first, but you didn't climb on them, so you fail!" he yells and adds, "We have a loser over here!"

            "Shut up, Errik. You're going to wake up the whole city," I warn as I look at the sky. The dark clouds have shifted away and it's now dark.

            "Please.” He huffs, smirking at me. “New York City asleep? I think no one taught you how New York does not go to bed, hence it's the reason why I came to love living here,” he says, looking at me.

            "Because you get to stay up all night without having a bedtime?" I chuckle, cannot help but make a joke.

            "No. I love it here because the lights are beautiful, especially from my place. I look out the window and, bam! Lights surround me everywhere. Even though it's a terrible place to live, I still like it here." He pauses and adds, "What about you? Why did ya come here?"

            I don't need to think of the answer because it's right there on top of my nose. But it's too hard for my tongue to reach because I don't know what to say about Kenton. Should I say that I had a fiancé and he passed away a few months ago in September? Or should I just say the same thing, but only I didn't live in Ireland, but in California?

            My body tenses as the wind whips around my face, creating my cheek to freeze and possibly my hair to turn into popsicles. "I came from California and ever since I was young, I would always dream of coming here, you know? I wanted to be a journalist, but I also wanted to become a novelist. So it was a dream of mine to come here and get anything on the City Times bestseller list." It isn't a complete lie. I did want to be a novelist and that was one of the many reasons I came here.

            "Where did that go?" We get up and sit on the platform of the equipment.

            "Uh, I don't know. I realized that I couldn't write a book due to too much writer's block stuff and I just . . . I couldn't take it. But after a while, I found that working for the City Times as a journalist, I came to love the idea of it. So I quit what I was doing with books." I slightly smile, liking the fact that we're actually talking about something that is really cool. I add, "So how did you come to love cooking and owning a restaurant?" I raise my eyebrows and he laughs.

            "My father was a chef, back home, and he taught me everything I needed to know about foods. During any time of the day, he would make me learn how to use this and that. Well—" He takes a deep breath, looking as if he's going back in time. "—I loved it. Spending time with my dad, cooking which I love to do, and just . . . everything." He smiles. "When I came here to New York, my family gave me the money to get a restaurant and make my dreams come true. And that's what I did." His story is heartwarming that I feel like I want to hug him. Not that he needs comforting, but just so that he knows I care. It's strange, really. I’ve never felt like this before.

            The cold whips across my body and I quiver. I try my hardest not to show emotion, but it's too much. I start shaking like I'm going into shock.

            Errik stares at me for a second and takes his coat off, wrapping it around me. I try to refuse, but he rejects it. "I think it's time to get back to warmth," he says.

            "No, it's fine. I'm all right," I lie. I'm cold, but I don't want to leave. Something tells me that I want to cuddle with him for warmth, but I fight back the thoughts and stand up.