Dear Augustus | I Never Let Go ✓

17 | The Chance

The familiar old brick facades stare back at me as we near the Ghost Estate. That's what they call it now. The crisp evening air fills my nose as I roll down the window to clear out the suffocation in my lungs.

"Do you want me to wait for you here?" Emma asks, sliding down the window as I step out of the car.

I look down at the brown shoebox in my hands and contemplate for a second before shaking my head. "This may take a while, Em. Don't worry. I'll be fine."

She chews on her bottom lip, eyeing the box. "Are you sure about that? Don't you think it's a bit harsh? You can always keep the memories, you know."

I nod with fake resolve, but her words form lumps in my throat, and I reconsider my decision. She's right. The contents of this box have been the only source of connection between you and me. My fingers tighten around it as I step through the wrought iron gate of the building and race up the stairs. The musty odor of the damp siding brings back old memories, sweet ones, and painful ones. The last time I stepped into this place, I lost you and got heartbroken. Here I am back, ready to replay that moment and get my heart broken all over again.

Without dallying further, I trek down the corridor, counting the rooms until I reach the one I'm looking for. Inside the room, I come to a stop so fast that my breath veers out of me. The last of the setting sun illuminates the interior enough for me to take a look around. I take a deep relaxing breath that I don't find you here, but it hitches as my eyes circle the room.

It's no more empty. There are signs of human establishment or just one person in particular. There's a bed with a mattress sans the sheets, a small study table, and the room relatively cleaner than I last saw it.

I place the box on the bed and step further into the room, taking in the other living details inside. There's a guitar leaning against the window ledge, and a brown suede trucker jacket lay careless over the mattress. My eyes settle on the notebook lying on the table. I pick up the notebook, run my fingers on the photograph used as a bookmark and pull it out. A gasp leaves my lips as soon as my eyes capture the girl in the picture.

It's my picture from three years back sitting inside Book Beans Café and reading All the Bright Places. The notebook falls from my hand as I remember it's from the day I first met you. You've been keeping my picture for all these years. I get suddenly consumed in the remembrance of all our moments. A silent sob dies inside my throat, and I fall back a step, the photograph clutched tightly in my hand.

A quiet voice has the picture slipping from my hand and falling on the ground. "Are you giving away all my memories and taking away yours?"

I pick up the picture and swallow the ache that cements my heart every passing second before I turn around.

You're standing by the door, pressing your broad shoulder heavily against the doorjamb. I can see the darkness shadowing your face, a little intimidating to look at. You've grown into a fine man that much, I can see, but the tired look on your face might be due to loss of sleep.

I avoid looking into your questioning eyes, rushing past you. As I step out of the room, my legs come to an abrupt halt just beside you. "It's better this way, Augustus."

And when I decide to walk by you, I feel your loaming presence on my back. A warm hand tugs mine gently, snatching the photograph from my hand. "You're not allowed to take away my memory of you."

I feel the rhythm of your heart beating against my back. I remember being this close to you. Your breath filters through my hair, and before your shudders hit my skin, I pull away. "Didn't think you would still remember me."