1 A day in the middle of May

When I woke up, I had no idea where I was or what happened to me. Slowly, the memories of the last two days came flowing through my mind. I started remembering, remembering my friends, my parents and the new person that I had met. I remembered how the days before seemed just like any other, the sun on the blue sky during the day and the stars shining during the night. It all seemed just like another day in the middle of May. It all seemed so normal, so safe, something I was used to.

I remembered skating to school and talking to my friends, I remembered taking notes of the thing the teachers were explaining, even if my mind was far away from graphs and vocabulary and microbiology. I knew I went to the skate park after class was over, putting on my helmet and letting the wind take my worries away. But then something else dropped on my memories, something unknown, yet familiar, something that I needed a few moments to remember. Or rather someone. I remembered brown eyes that were filled with smiles, the brown hair with an aqua helmet on top, the skateboard with the same colour and a curios design; the blue and the black on the bottom of it intertwining. I remembered the challenge that went unsaid as soon as the brown-haired boy started skating next to me, trying to overtake and beat me at every ramp, every funbox, every obstacle in the park. When we both stopped, finally facing each other, shook hands and his name finally came back to my mind. Tim, Tim Owen. I remembered the next challenge that was said out loud, I remember, because I said it. I challenged him to a competition at the funboxes, the prize was ice cream, he accepted and then I remember the thrill of the race that overtook me every time I skated. I felt a familiar pressure on my hand as my mind supplied me with the image of his hand on my mine, he caught me before I could fall at the very last obstacle of the park. I felt the sweetness of the ice cream on my tongue again as that memory came back again.

I was skating home the next minute, the sky turning indigo and pink at the same time, but he was still standing there, at the very edge of the skate park, like a silhouette in the dark, something or someone you don't quite know whether it's real or not. He was surrounded by the light of the setting sun and I remember thinking that if my life were a romance novel, I'd be there, by his side, holding his hand. But my life was not a romance novel because I was sitting on a cold floor, my hands tied behind my back and my mind trying to make me remember how I got there and how to escape. I knew I skated home that night and went to bed hoping the nightmares of the past wouldn't catch up to me while I was dreaming, hoping not to have to relieve those memories again.

As I felt the rope dig into my wrists I remembered how I had struggled with my backpack on the way to school the next day, the zipper not cooperating, making me late to class. I knew I was surprised once I saw his face at the front of the classroom, standing at the teacher's desk, talking with a smirk on his face. I remembered how I sat down, knowing he'd have to sit next to me, the only free spot left in the classroom, and yet again I thought of how a romance novel would start this way so many times, the thought of it almost making me laugh out loud. I knew we talked throughout the lesson, trying to talk as silently as possible. He told me he moved a week ago, with decisions weighing on him; which school to go to? This one? The one he didn't know anyone at, even if it was only 10 minutes from his home? Or his old one? The one with all his friends, all the memories, the familiar places, but also a 2-hour long train ride every day. He told me he went to skate the day before to clear his mind, to try to think of what to do and that was when he met me. He was already leaning towards the new school, he said, a great skatepark, great nature, good people. He said that as he met me, he made a friend and the decision was made, said it was how and why he came to our school that day.

We talked until the bell rang, I only heard his 'see you at the skatepark' and then he was gone, his face only one more blur in the crowd of the students running through the halls. That afternoon, we skated until the sun began setting again, we were trying to overtake each other again and again. I remembered how I wanted to skate home when he pulled me back and talked me into getting ice cream with him once again. I remembered how there were no nightmares chasing me that night, I still felt like I was skateboarding, even while asleep, my mind full of the memories of that day.

The next days, I remembered, were normal, but brought a surprise. I talked to my friends and Sarah and Emma said they'd planned a trip to the river in a week. I remembered being responsible for bringing the snacks, Tim had to bring the drinks and my other friend, Harry, had to bring the chairs and such. The whole class was going to be there, and I was looking forward to it, I liked the river, liked swimming, it was planned to go along well, we were going to have fun and not having to worry about school for once.

The week passed, there was still a biochemistry test we had to write, but once that was over, we'd be free. And then the weekend came, somehow faster than I imagined it would, and Tim and I were skating towards the river, the snacks and drinks in our backpacks, with the swimsuits already under our shorts and shirts.

I remembered how the river seemed bluer than the sky in July, how the water was refreshing, making you smile and laugh and all your worries just… swam away. I remembered talking to Harry and then I wanted to swim some more but as soon as I got into the water again, so did my schoolmates and I felt annoyed because I knew they'd try and dunk me. I wanted to swim away, but I accidently hit my head on a rock that was just below the water surface and I felt myself losing my consciousness along with air. But then a hand grabbed me and pulled me out. I remembered looking around myself, trying to see who it was that pulled me out, but no one was close enough. I thought of Tim, even though even he was a few metres away from me. I knew I had enough swimming after that and went back to the shore.

I talked to Sarah and Emma, while my mind tried to get the best of me, trying to remind me of all the times when my schoolmates made fun of me, ignored me, tried to boss me around. And even though I tried to keep my mind at bay, it was sometimes just impossible, just like today. It wasn't even because of the dunking thing, I was used to that, even if annoyed. No, it was the fact that Tim didn't even look my way as soon as all of my other schoolmates arrived. He was talking to them, ignoring me, when one of them pointed at me he didn't even talk back, only laugh along. As much as I knew I shouldn't let my mind get the better of me, it was hard at times.

So, I tried to ignore him as well, tried to tune out my mind and focus on anything and everything else that was going on other things around me. I watched the water ripple as a slight wind blew over it and the leaves on the trees moved and rustled. I remembered talking to Harry, he told me about a new pet that he just got, a cat he named Andromeda. I watched as Sarah tried to beat Emma in a swimming match, their laughing echoing through the forest and along the river.

I knew I was coming to an end of the memories from the past few days, but I still couldn't quite remember how I had wound up in the cold room I was siting in. So I closed my eyes again and tried again, tried to remember again and again.

I saw myself skateboarding towards home, my backpack slung over my shoulders and I remembered how nice it had felt to finally drop it on the floor. I remembered how my eyes fell to the bed, but I knew that sleep wouldn't come in quite some time, no matter how much the swimming and skateboarding tired me. If I were to try to sleep my mind would only try to supply me with doubts and questions again and that was the last thing that I needed on that day.

I remembered putting on a black and grey hoodie, slipping my notepad into my pocket along with a black-inked pen and closed the apartment door behind me yet again and skating towards the skatepark. It was a thing I didn't do often and something that only Harry knew about. How sometimes, when my thoughts just wouldn't leave me alone, I'd go to the skatepark and write. I'd try and write songs, no, poetry. I'd try to capture the way the light shone and reflected on the pavement, try to paint the scenery with words written on the blank pages of the notepad.

I remembered how nice the skatepark looked that night, the moon was just beginning to rise, its silvery light passing onto the ramps and benches, making the iron parts of them glitter. I remembered how I could still see the stars, even with all the streetlights giving off their own golden light. I remembered how that was the reason why I loved the skatepark at night so much. There was hardly any people and you could just relax, letting go of your worries, if only for a moment.

I knew I was getting closer and closer to the last memory I had of the day before and I was almost running through my mind, trying to reach it, to finally find out how I got to the present moment. I knew I was skating back, only a few minutes separating me from the doors of the apartment building and my room. And as much as I loved the skatepark at night, the night still had its might, making you feel afraid even if you were so close to home. I remembered how I stopped my skateboard and picked it up, searching for the keys in the pocket of my hoodie with my other hand. My mind was at least a little bit clearer after writing at the skatepark, as it usually was.

I felt it then, the feeling that I was so close to the present moment in my memories. And just as I tried to think again, I remembered.

I remembered how someone hit me, the sharp pain that suddenly spread throughout my head, I remembered falling to the ground, my hands slipping on the slightly wet grass, everything around me gradually becoming darker and darker.

And then there was only silence.