How much do you remember?

The air was filled with dust and the smell of age-old boxes. Creaky floorboards were layered in dust and broken chairs littered the floor. Grandma and I had been in the attic all day, filing through boxes of old memories. Some Grandma cried silent tears, and others filling the stuffy room in laughter. 

I was amazed by how many little treasures Grandma had managed to keep, even after moving four times. She had photo books from when my mother was my age and old necklaces that pawnshops would kill for. Her collection of snowglobes was covered in dust which made the little people inside barely visible. 

Eventually, most of the boxes were cleared with boxes of photos left. They took the longest due to Grandma needing to explain the story behind each photo. I had restrained myself from hiding photos, so I didn't need to hear about Great Aunt Madrid for the fourth time. As I cleaned the second to last box I found a photo that had my interest. 

In the photo, I was standing in between two girls, both with their arms wrapped around my shoulder. We all had matching smiles that seemed to reach past our eyes like we had all had been in the middle of laughter. I looked laid back, and my mind started to feel fuzzy. 

I didn't remember anyone ever taking this photo. I couldn't even recognize the girls, or remember who was taking the photo. It looked like it was a while ago, with the crinkled paper and faded color. 

I looked to my Grandma, maybe she could recall the photo. I lifted the photo from the box and held it to Grandma. 

“Hey, do you remember this photo?” I asked, Grandma, looked up from her own box. Her face clouded for a moment before her normal smile appeared. 

“Oh honey, those were just some old school friends. You sure you don't remember them?” she replied, her smile fading for a moment. 

I have had horrible memory since I was a kid. Most of my memories from my early childhood were glimpses of my birthday parties and the houses I had lived in. I always thought those would be my happiest memories, and I looked so happy in that photo. My Grandma dragged me from my thoughts by patting my shoulder. 

“That’s alright dear, it’s probably for the best. Those girls weren’t very nice to you anyway.” Grandma said, ending that conversation. I sat there for a moment before putting the picture into my pocket and resumed unpacking boxes. 

*** 

It wasn’t until that night that I remembered the photo in my pocket. I had spent the rest of the day with Grandma, slaving away to make sure the attic was clean. Grandma had no real purpose in cleaning stuff, she just simply cleaned and organized. 

Due to that, we spent hours dusting and sweeping through the attic. By the time I went downstairs I was exhausted, ready to welcome the covers of my bed. I went to get changed, and when I reached my hand into my pockets the photo was the only thing inside. 

Slipping the photo out of my pocket, I sighed at not remembering who the people were. Frustrated, I flipped the photo over a few times, looking for a name or date. Then I saw it, a number. 

851216135 

I looked at it for a moment and placed it in my wallet. In my exhausted mind, the numbers and meaning didn’t register. That was a mystery for tomorrow. 

***

Walking along the shops was always a delightful experience, with the colorful decor and people watching. I walked up and down the shop entries, entering and exiting as I go.

 Many people didn’t notice me much mind, but every once and a while someone would give me a strange look. I would look to a window to make sure I didn’t have anything on my face, but after a while, I gave up and flashed the people a smile. 

After a few hours, my feet were getting tired and I sat at a bench near the roadway. I had grabbed my book and read as the world passed me by. The characters were on a heroic quest, and the main villain seemed to be right on their heels. My mind began to wander to their world, and their feelings became my own. 

Then I noticed the scribble on the bottom of my page. It was a number, the same one that was in the photo. My mind, and reality, reeled back to me and I sat in shock for a moment. I felt my head get on straight and stood up to get to my car. 

What if there was someone who needed help, and they needed me to save them? Or what if it was all some prank to just keep me awake at night? 

The wind buzzed past me, and the people’s faces began to blur. I was trying as hard as I can to get to my car as quickly as I can, I crashed right into someone. 

She yelped, I yelped, and I crashed to the walkway. The girl stood there for a moment while I tried to get my bearings, and she extended a hand to help me up. 

“Thank you, so sorry for running into you.” I blushed, as soon as I stood up, the girl was gone, and I had a little note in my hand. 

***

I felt like I was going insane. This number had to mean something, or at least have a purpose to a bigger meaning. I felt like my head was in the fog, and the number was some type of light. The number meant something, and at some point in my life, I had known what it was. 

It was right on the edge, ready to be in the known. I reached for the note for what felt like the millionth time this hour and read it over one more time. 

‘851216135 Call me’ 

That was all it said, that’s all it was. Yet, I didn’t want to call the number, a selfish part of me wanted the credit of figuring it out myself. I stared down at the note, and read it over four times. 

Eventually, I relented and picked up my phone to call the number. 

I typed it in, I pressed the call. It rang once, twice, thrice. Then a girl’s voice rang through the thickening silence. 

“Hello. Hello. Who is this?” the girl said, and I realized I hadn’t yet responded. 

“Hi, this is the girl you knocked into on the walkway,” I replied, the world seemed to quiet for a moment. 

“Katherine?” she whispered, my heart jumped. She knew my name. I hadn’t even spoken to her, and she knew my name. This couldn’t have been a coincidence, this was meant for me. 

“Hello?” I jumped when she spoke again, it took me a moment to realize I hadn’t responded yet. I sighed and took a deep breath to steady myself. 

“Yes, this is Katherine. Umm, sorry to sound blunt, but how do you know my name?” I questioned, my heart seemed to be beating out of my chest. 

“Right, my name is Taylor. I know you probably don’t remember me. But I promise I will explain everything.” Taylor assured, her voice was calm and collected. “How much do you remember?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Alright, let me explain.”