Memory Documentation

chapter eleven | documenting this beautiful, sorrowful day

"Baby, my God. Your volume's gonna –" Click "– it's so loud, stop! You're going to wake them."

Wake them...

My eyes opened. They were still heavy with sleep, but when I finally was able to keep them open, I was still fuzzy on what reality I was in. No longer was I by the fountain lake with Sylvia and the crazy waiter with the ugly bowtie. Instead, I was with Chris, still on top of the makeshift bed made of all the pillows in the apartment. His face was angled slightly away from me, but I was close enough to let my eyes trace his features. Enviously long eyelashes, thin lips, and two very small, red pimples running along his temple.

Looking forward, I could see the TV in front of me was playing a rerun episode of Adventure Time. I also saw mine and Chris's feet peeking out of the bottom of our blankets. And to my left, sitting in the gray accent chair was...

My heart skipped.

"Reece?"

At least, it looked like him. Just older. Very adult, with a handsome full stubble and hair groomed and nicely cut. Same build, maybe even bulkier. Oh, and that smirk. Nothing new about that.

"Hey, kid," he said, his smirk turning more into a genuine smile. "Long time, no see."

"Am I still dreaming?" I croaked, my throat dry from sleep.

"Dreaming, huh? No, you're not. If you're asking if I'm dreamy, then yes. Yes, I am dreamy. Even more since you've last seen me."

"Literally not what she was asking you at all." A new person entered my field of vision, for the sole purpose of slapping Reece on the side of the head. He yelped. I felt Chris flinch from beside me at the noise. He shifted, and as he did, I realized that he had a hand resting on top of my head this whole time. Holding me. Comforting me.

Still, I couldn't help but push myself up at the sight of these two. "Jessica?" They were finally here. Together. Both of them.

Jessica smiled, walking around a scowling Reece to kneel down in front of me. "Hey," she said in a gentle tone. She took my hand in hers. "Sorry. We - I just... wanted to see you as soon as I could."

Then, it hit me. I remembered now. The reason she's here. The reason Chris was by my side. The reason my eyes felt puffy.

Sylvia.

She wasn't at a fountain making wishes.

She was gone. She was dead.

Suddenly, the overwhelming sense of loss for a dear friend couldn't counteract the joy of seeing another. The image of Jessica kneeling in front of me and Reece beside her blurred, but I looked away. My fists tightened.

Although I could no longer hear my father's voice, I'll always remember his words: keep it in or keep it quiet.

I hate this. This stupid, stupid feeling. All these years and I still can't shake the instinctual feeling to keep it in. I'll pace and I'll jump. I'll fist my hands together and curl my toes in. I'll do everything I can to keep from crying, even if all I want to do is cry out of joy and happiness, sadness and despair.

I felt a hand rest on my shoulder. It was Chris, sitting up now, too. "Darce," he whispered in a voice so soft, so soothing. "It's okay. You can cry. It's okay to cry."

It's okay to cry.

"I had to come see you," said Jessica. I nodded, and as if needing her permission, a fat, hot tear rolled down my cheek.

Keep it in or keep it quiet.

But Chris's words rang louder.

It's okay to cry.