Gone but not Forgotten

Trigger warnings: Abandonment, inferred car accident resulting in death.

May didn't know how long she had waited, hopefully clutching that ragged cloth, staring at the ever-changing sky. She had no idea how many hours it had been that she’d waited on this park bench. Or days. Or years. However long it had been, May was starting to get the feeling that her best friend wasn’t coming back. She let out a long, sad sigh, remembering exactly what Bea had told her, replaying their last interaction in her mind like she had a million times.

May had been swinging on the nearby playground’s swingset when she’d seen Bea, sitting on the very same bench she now sat on. Clumsily, she had tried to jump off the swing to impress Bea, like she’d seen the older kids do, but she had fallen and skinned her knee. She had tried in vain to keep the tears at bay, but perhaps it was good that she hadn’t been able to stifle the wail that escaped her throat, because Bea was at her side in an instant, her brown curls bouncing as she moved.

“What’s wrong, May?” Bea had asked, her voice soft and concerned.

“I f-fell…” May stuttered, having felt embarrassed.

“I told you to come to the castle-” Bea had gestured toward the bench- “If you ever needed help!” the small, bossy girl had chided, her hand on her hips. Bea asked where, and May had dutifully pointed to her scratched knee with one hand, while wiping her tears with her other. Bea had looked around for a moment before her face lit up.

“W-what are you- Wait! Bea!” May gasped, at a loss for words, watching as little rule-abiding Bea had ripped the bottom of her dress off and wrapped it around May’s leg. Bea had always been the more practical of the two of them, even though she was only five, and May was five and a half. May, still in awe, stared at her best friend for a long moment before Bea, who was also more energetic, broke the silence.

“Can we go play tag now?”

They had been playing tag for a while when May’s favorite purple hair ribbon had come loose and been ripped away from her. She had been it. Even now, she remembered it in stunning clarity, how Bea had started chasing the ribbon first, while May, the tagger, had chased her, laughing. May remembered the loud noises, the feel of the wind whispering through her hair, the sunlight filtering through the falling leaves, the smell of freshly cut grass, even how the donut shop’s OPEN sign had flickered for a moment, instead displaying OPN. How that makeshift bandage had loosened, May wasn’t sure, but she remembered how Bea had turned, the expression on her face, her words seemingly stuck on her lips as May had bent down to tie that scrap of cloth back on. She remembered Bea running toward her. She remembered the woman in the green baseball cap, Bea’s mother, running toward her. She remembered wondering why. She remembered how a man’s shirt had a shiny thing pinned on it, and how he had run toward her, too. And then the impact had come. And all she could hear were those familiar words, the two best friends’ version of a promise, or a pinkie swear, their truth.

“I’ll wait for you!”

“And I will come back for you.”

Every time the young girl was reimmersed in that memory, she would start feeling a whole lot of things. Confusion, hope, and waves of nostalgia were washed away by pain, fear, and anger. Mostly, though, she was drowned in the overwhelming loneliness of waiting for someone who she now was quite sure would never arrive. Tears welled in her eyes, and she knew no one was there to wipe them away for her. But as May wiped her fallen tears, there was a small, dull thud. Someone had sat next to her. May whirled her head around in wonder, confused as to who this mysterious person could be, and why they were sitting next to her.

The woman had short brown curls and brown eyes. Her height was below average. She looked so much like Bea, albeit an older version of her, that May couldn’t avoid staring. She had promised Bea that she would wait, and she had. Bea had promised that she would come back for May- had she? The woman looked down for a moment at her hands before a young boy, who could have been no more than five years old, ran around the corner and toward her.

“Mama, mama! Did you see? I went down the big slide! Did you see?” The boy jumped up and down, bubbling with untamed excitement. The woman, presumably the mother, laughed pleasantly.

“I did see you! I even took a video!” The mother pulled out a phone, seemingly expecting the young boy to want to see it, but without warning, the bouncing stopped. May, who had been engrossed in the woman’s similarities with Bea, looked up to see the boy staring right at her. The boy seemed to be just as curious as May felt.

“Mama? Who’s this?” The woman looked down at her son.

“Who?”

“The girl next to you. She was staring at you.” May, embarrassed, felt a blush kiss her cheeks. The woman glanced at her, then furrowed her brow and turned back to the boy.

“Jack, there’s no one there.”

“What? But she is!”

“Jack, honey-”

“I see her!”

“Okay, how about-”

“She’s sitting right there!” The exchange was so bizarre to May, a woman telling her son that a girl wasn’t there, that May giggled.

“She just laughed!”

“Jack! How about you ask her name?” The boy, Jack, dutifully turned to May and promptly asked,

“What’s your name?” May hesitated for a moment before her reply came.

“My n-name is May,” Jack reported this to his mother, who covered her mouth with one hand, suppressing a gasp. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a wallet. Clutching it tightly, the woman asked,

“Can she hear me?” May nodded, hope swelling in her chest.

“Yes!” Jack’s response came almost immediately.

“May? I said I’d come back for you, didn’t I?” May hurled herself at the woman, at Bea, and enveloped her in a hug. Bea teared up and reached into her wallet to pull out a purple hair ribbon.

“Jack, go play.” The boy ran off without any questions. “May, I-I am Bea.” May had been sure already, but this proof was welcome. Please. May thought. Let her see me! Her hope was not met with emptiness, and Bea turned. The two friends embraced, one having moved on and one having never waned from her spot. It was time. At last. May hadn’t been able to go yet, because she had been waiting. But she didn’t have to wait anymore. The golden light filled her, made her complete, and she looked to the sky. She was finally done. She had fulfilled her promise.