Author Information
Stay Forgotten
The tap tap tapping of his feet grow louder on the hard linoleum floor as his heart beats faster. Pounding in his chest, drowning out the sound in his ears and bringing his eyes to tears. He is lost. How did he get where he is? He has no idea what force brought him to this place. But wait he knows where to go, the next turn is right... no no no left. Breaking left he flies down the corridor. Pictures on the walls, bodies without faces, places he’s been before. Bursting through the double doors at the end of the hallway he enters an open plaza, and there she is.
This is it, this is what he was brought here for. A second chance, forcing his hand to finally make the move on… on… what was her name? What is my name? That hardly matters now, but here she is placed upon a silver platter for him to take as his liking. A noise from behind. He turns and out from whence he came, comes a familiar and distasteful face.
“I see you’ve found what you have been looking for,” says the vile looking man.
“Who are you?”
“I am your antagonist, I am the conflict that chooses where you step, I am your worst fear. I am your failure.”
“What madness are you speaking?”
“Take a look for yourself.”
Turning he notices his lost love, slipping from his grasp again. Down an alley through a busy street she turns without a glance back. Without a further look at this new profound man he is at a sprint again. Faster even than when he feared for his own life. She was more important than his life. What would be left to piece together if he let her walk out of his life again?
SLAM! Right in front of him a taxi from the street hits a light pole inches from his own body. Stopping momentarily he glances in at the driver, only to see the smiling face of his so called “antagonist.”
“Time is running out,” he says.
“Then I have no time to waste on the likes of you!”
Faster and faster he crosses the street and finally makes it to the alleyway that was his destination. He slows to a quick-walk, because it is extremely dark in the alley, even though it was mid-day behind him. Reaching about a third of the way through the alley he notices a curled figure on the floor… no two.
“This is your fault…” the man says grimly.
Tossing him aside, he takes a step toward her heaving, sobbing figure.
“Why must you cry my love? I’ve come to ask for a second… nay a first chance, that I never put forth before.”
She continues weeping for a reason unknown to him.
“Why do you weep at such a time to rejoice?! Speak to me! I’ve done my best, tried my hardest, I deserve at least a word!”
She slowly rights herself into a sitting position, looks up to him, and says, “Goodbye.”
Suddenly he is in his room in his apartment. He recalls his dream, the faces he saw, remembers who they are, remembers what they mean to him, and remembers his own identity. He lies back down, wishing he could forget.
