Hope

One evening I shut my eyes against the summer sun hoping the world would be different when I would open them.  Looking up at the blue sky once more, the world was still the same. I gripped my bike handle, pressed my foot against the petal, and rolled down the ramp. My hand then reached for my phone, clicking on my radio that worked with my earbuds. ¨Shape of You¨ was playing. Too upbeat. I turn down the volume until the instrumental fades in the background of kids shrieking from the playground and skateboards scraping the concrete ground. 

I was fourteen.

Bored and miserable.

As far as I was concerned the sun could have melted the blue off the sky. Then the sky would be as miserable as me. 

I continued riding around the skatepark, lost in my thoughts as the DJ on the radio interrupted. The advertisements rolled in as my annoyance rose. Eventually, a playback was turned on. ¨Stan¨ by Eminem. That song brought nostalgia, the guitar tying each note with a memory of some sort. I slightly nodded my head, enjoying the rush of air that ruffled my clothing, shielding me from the sun's burning warmth. 

Eventually, the heat of the day hit me; even the birds knew better than to be flying around. I guided my bike along the sidewalk home, the tarred patches on the cracks melting. I stared at the pale blue of the sky, aware of me being the only one on this street. Maybe everyone fled this town into space to escape the mundane boredom of life. Maybe I was the last kid on earth, but that thought escaped me as I passed a bleak yellow house. The past week I kept seeing this boy around my age with messy hair sitting upon the front porch, staring into the woods behind his house. Once more I spotted him. His red shirt hung from his scrawny shoulders, a book splayed out on his lap. But I never saw him look into the pages.

¨Why don't you go to the skatepark?¨  I find myself asking, tiptoeing on my bike, leaning over the brittle white fence that snaked around the stark house. He turned around, surprise sprawled over his face.

¨I just moved here…¨ His voice trailed off. I kind of liked his voice. He talked with an accent I couldn't quite pinpoint. ¨Where is it?¨ He then asked, his voice a bit more raspy this time, as with a cold. I get off my bike, a slight thud heard as it hits the cement ground. 

¨Just down the street to the left,¨ I hear myself reply. ¨My name´s Tanya,¨ I added, unsure.

¨Nice to meet you, Tanya. I go by J,¨ he replies as he jumps off the porch. ¨Can you wait on me for a sec? Imma grab my bike.¨ His uncertain eyes dart to the shed in the backyard.

¨Sure thing.¨ I say. I like the way he says that, Nice to meet you, Tanya, as if he genuinely means that. This was my first interaction with my summer friend. 

The rest of that summer we spent biking and exploring the town together. He never talked about his past, lest his actual name, I never bothered asking. We may have not known personal details about each other, but we became family. One thing I did know for sure was that he held a relic of secrets. Maybe that was what attracted me to him. 

 On one of our many hangouts, I interrogated him about his favorite season. ¨A pretty generic question don't you think?¨ I ask, swinging my legs over the roof of the playground. ¨Well, I don't like summer,¨ he replies, scaling the side of the blue-painted wood to reach the top. ¨Summer is about freedom, exploration, and adventure,¨ I add. J finally sits next to me. We both look over the abandoned playground. A minute slowly stretches out until he finally speaks up, ¨Exactly. Summer made me hope.¨I look at him from the corner of my eye. He sat criss-cross, leaning back on his hands. His hair was tousled from the slight breeze, his gaze once guarded now relaxed. I look back at the sun, now hiding itself among the trees, with the sky blushing. One thing we did have in common was the shared silence. The empty silence held more emotion than the words could speak. 

¨I..¨ J never finished his sentence. I wish I asked him to explain further. But we never asked anything about each other. That was our unheard promise. The past hurts to bring up, that was our hidden agreement, to pretend nothing was wrong during the times we spent together. The neglectance to deal with our buried memories was the glue that made us family. 

The last time we snuck out, the ciadids were quiet. “J, what do you think of the future?”  I asked, my sentence cutting through the stillness of the night. “I don't know... Life is just about obsessions. That's not for me. I want to reach the stars and explore the dark holes themselves. But that is just fantasies, right? Just a dream that holds no meaning,” he abruptly stops, his rant stops us both from walking. By now we were standing outside of his house, the dull outline of the roof blended into the dark sky.  “Goodbye…”  he left the words ringing as he opened the door to his house. I didn't think anything of it. Never wondered why he never said a parting before but that night did. The door closed; an echo followed through the street. I turned back around. By now the sky was washed with different hues of purple, clouds painted over the sky in a tint of pink; colors I never saw decorate the sky before. 

Maybe that was fate's apology. 

That night was the last time I saw J. I later visited the house he lived at. It was set up for foreclosure. I entered his name on google. Nothing. The universe left no trace of his existence. Maybe his dreams came true and he was chasing the stars in the sky, painting the planets in new colors, maybe I'd join him. I continued feeling what J hated the most.

Hope.

Weeks pass. I decided to visit the playground I spend most of my time with J. Maybe I wanted to face my memories of him; what used to be tinted with hope was now washed with betrayal. How dare he not tell me anything before leaving? Forget about hope.

I later heard he was missing. I felt guilty for the resentment I felt towards his disappearance. School started. Classwork kept my mind busy. Yet I continued hoping I'd see his face, see him navigating the hallway to his classes. Maybe we'd share a class together. 

On the last day of school, I decided to walk the same route I walked with J to and from his house to the playground. After arriving back at home I turned the TV on as I turned my back and started preparing myself food. I precisely cut the bread and started smearing peanut butter and jelly.  “The DNA of the body found in the Angria Woods has been reported from the Macbeth Clinic,” as the news reporter spoke my interest piqued.  “The victim is a 14-year-old male. Cause of death strangulation.”  I turned around to face the TV, dropping my sandwich. 

“It has been confirmed that the body belongs to Jacques Novak…” 

One evening I shut my eyes against the autumn sky hoping the world would be different when I would open them.  Looking up at the gray sky once more, the world was still the same.