Wildest Dreams

f i v e

All four of them had their hands full as they walked up to the front door of the house. Glen knocked on the door. After a few seconds, the door was opened by an elderly man. He had grey hair and blue eyes. His hands had scar burns in them. 

"Your Maple's friends, aren't you?" He asked.

Nancy nodded. "Yes sir, she called earlier—"

"Is Maple in, sir? We just thought it would be nice to talk to her before you leave," Glen said. He tried to look past the old man but he was too intimidating.

He raised his forefinger, stepping aside. "Maple! Your friends are here!"

Maple stayed quiet in her hiding place.

"Maple?!"

Glen, Nancy, Rod, and Tina switched glances at each other while they patiently waited for their friend.

"She's not in her bedroom," a voice replied after some time. An old lady came into view and she had a confused look on her face.

"She snuck out again?" The man sighed.

The woman saw the four teenagers at the door. "Oh, I thought she'd be with her friends. That's strange."

"What if she went at the house while we were away?" Tina suggested.

"We could've drove past her and we'll notice it," answered Glen.

"What if while we were buying food?" questioned Nancy.

Glen thought for a second. "Yeah, okay. Let's check her there."

Glen was about to step away when he realized they were all carrying the food they bought for Maple. It would be spoiled if Maple wasn't there at Nancy's house, waiting for them. There were still leftovers from their lunch earlier. Glen turned back around to the elderly couple.

"In case Maple isn't there, ma'am, we bought her her favourite snacks for the road. I think it's best if we left it here so she can have it either way."

"That's nice of you, young man. We'll make sure she gets it."

"Thank you." Glen handed them the food followed by the others. The door closed and they headed back to the car.

*  *  *

I saw Glen walked down slower than the others as if just waiting for me. He had his hands stuffed into his swimming trunks. The wet strands of hair falling to his sad face as he looked back at the house. He looked up to the window of my bedroom. His hopeful eyes stayed for seconds before they left.

I emerged from my hiding place a couple of seconds after they left. Through the backdoor, I went into the house and walked to the kitchen in quiet steps. Grandmother noticed me as she hid the snacks given by my friends.

"Maple," she spoke. "Your friends just left. They were looking for you."

"I know," I muttered, nodding. "I was hiding in the garden."

"You didn't say goodbye."

 I didn't want to say goodbye.

"I know that too, and probably won't ever." I removed the cap out of my head, passing by my grandma to get a glass of water. I heard footsteps coming down the stairs then my grandfather's voice.

"She didn't use her window, nor our window. Balcony was still locked," he sighed. "She's just like her mother. She was just there and gone the next split second." He walked around the island counter and finally saw me.

"Was she here the whole time?" He asked Grandma.

"She just arrived from... well, I don't know exactly where she went."

There were talking like I wasn't in the same room with them. I placed the empty glass beside me. Grandfather turned to me with a stern look on his face.

"We're gonna have to discuss about this attitude, Maple. You can't just leave without telling us, we know you've been doing it the whole year ever since you stayed here."

"Sorry, I guess." I shrugged.

"We'll discuss it later. Have you done your packing?"

"I'll go upstairs now. Don't bother calling me for dinner," I said then rushed up the stairs, locking myself in my room. I thought about wanting to find some calm, but then again sleep has been killing me rather than keeping me alive.

*  *  *

Steam. Oil. Gas. Grease and water leaking from the pipes.

I stood in this wretched place again. I was walking then running then hiding. He always saw me but he never caught me. He could cut my arm, make my feet bleed, but I never stopped running. I never stopped until I saw the faces of my dead parents in front of me.

I knew it was a trap, it must be. But I gave in to my own hopelessness and ran to my parents. I wanted to tell them I was sorry for giving up on them even though they were only a figment of a nightmare.

"Maple..." I turned around and saw the figure who's been scaring me to death for a year now.

"Maple..." he continued to call my name.

I shook my head and ran away. He chased me again, and he knew this place better than me.

I tripped on a railing and instead of falling to the grills, I landed on a pool. The pool where my friends were supposed to swim earlier this day. I quickly swam to the edge to get away from the dark waters where I felt needles jabbing onto my feet. The grass underneath my bleeding feet felt so real, I almost forgot all of these was a dream.

It's all just a dream.

That feeling where you were running in your dream but your feet were not taking you anywhere, and you stay in the same position or move so slow — it's frightening. I felt so helpless looking at the lights in front of me but never reaching them.

"Why are you running, Maple?" A familiar voice behind me asked. I froze and slowly turned around.

Glen stood in front of me with his eyes glimmering in the dark and his hair had the messy fluff I've grown to love. He wore the same clothes from the first time I saw him.

"You're running away," he mumbled with a tone of disappointment in his voice.

"I'm not. I-I'm just going away for a while."

"You didn't say goodbye to me." He spoke with frustration and he came closer to me until my back hit a wall. We were enclosed in a room with the light only coming from the window. He was so close to me that I could feel his breath brushing my face.

"Why didn't you say goodbye?" His voice became deep and firm. With his thumb and forefinger, he raised my chin so we looked each other eye to eye.

"I didn't want to," I answered with the same volume and intensity as he spoke. "When people say goodbye, who knows if it will be the last time."

"You won't lose me." Glen's hand moved to my jaw and his eyes flicked down then back up with an even more intense stare. I gulped and straightened my posture, making our lips almost touch.

"Maple," he sighed, softly slipping through his lips, like a call for surrender.

"Glen."

Then I was falling ,   falling  ,      falling . . .

My head hit something hard, waking me up suddenly. I raised my hand over the part of my head that hurt. I groaned in pain as it rang inside my head.

"Oh sorry, kid. There was a pothole on the road, are you okay?" Grandpa glanced at the front driver's mirror.

"Yeah, just hit my head on the window." I leaned back at the car seat and grimaced.

The sun was already high on the sky when we arrived at my old house. We took our belongings inside and stayed there for the whole summer. I didn't contact anyone from Springwood for two whole months.

No one.

Because if I didn't tell them goodbye, how could I even say hello?