Happiness is the saddest illusion

This harsh reality still haunts my mind

Suppressed memories have a nasty habit of coming back to you when you least expect them to; you'll be doing fine one moment and the next your mind is filled with the bitter clouds of long lost times, swirling tauntingly in dizzying circles until the thought of anything else in incomprehensible, the broken memory seemingly the only thing to exist.

Once upon a broken childhood they played by the old white gate. The peeling white paint revealing rusted iron beneath the curling vines of the deep, putrid green ivy. A place designed to separate, used to strengthen a precious thing; a friendship.

Such a strange concept to the older, that someone would willingly spend time in their presence, especially over all the other bright young children the younger could so easily chose over them. But yet they cherished every moment together, each with an imagination so vivid that entire realities were thought up in even the short breaks they spent together.

To the older of the pair, this friend was a sacred haven, a place where they had no obligation to be anything other than them self. With this blissful relief came the suffocating fright that this priceless joy might be as fragile as the chipping pain that covered the pair's meeting place, and that one day just as the dying leaves, their oasis of childish hope would too dry up and blow away, becoming nothing more than a distant memory.

With this daunting thought clouding their otherwise worry free mind, the older set their mind to making sure every moment they spent with the other would be the best experiences of their short lives they could make. The two spent many lunchtimes together, they would talk about whatever interests they had at the time, trade food and just enjoy the warm happiness of their easy friendship.

One memorable day the younger of the pair was captivated by the elder as the latter displayed a dance they had recently learned in the ballet classes hosted in the schools junior hall. The flattered child offered to teach the younger and so the two spent one of their blissful lunchtimes twirling around until their heads spun faster than their feet and the ground started to swim suspiciously. The two slumped to the floor on either side of the gate, giggling at the odd effects the slight dizziness brought them.

But despite their hardest efforts, as winter fell and the flowers wilted, so did their once bright friendship....
As the two friends were in different year groups, their allotted times to eat in the school cafeteria rarely aligned and if they were honest, the elder of the friends wished in this instance that they never shared this part of their daily timetables.

On this fateful day the elder was leaving the cafeteria, shortbread in hand, when the younger came bounding up to them, bright smile etched onto their soft features.
"Hiya" they greeted the older warmly.
"Hi"
"Oooh can I have your shortbread? It's my favourite" the younger gasped excitedly as their eyes wandered to the biscuit balanced carefully on the others hand.
"No, it's mine today. I'll give you my desert tomorrow" the elder sighed, for once slightly annoyed at the younger as they were spending the day with one of their few other friends.
"But it's almost my birthday" the younger wined, determined to acquire the treat.
"I said no, you can have it tomorrow, I promise"
"Please"
"No"
"Your so mean" the younger pouted a little sadly, never having experienced that kind of reaction from their friend before.
"It's mine, you'll get one in a minute if you want it so badly"
At the older's harsh tone the younger was left hurt and slightly angry, lunging vengeful my towards the shortbread. Surprised at the younger's sudden attack, the older jumped back and amid the commotion the sweet biscuit fell to the floor.
"You're so annoying, why did you have to do that?" Spat the older.
"You were being so mean to me, you're never mean to me" the younger seemed close to tears after the older's harsh shout broke through the tense air.
Then, tone as bitterly cold as the sharp wind howling outside, the older uttered with no hesitation, " I hate you. We're not friends anymore" and with that they were off, strutting over to their friend who was waiting just outside the door.

And that was the last time the two ever saw each other, for the younger unbeknown to the other had fallen seriously ill. Regret flushed through the older as the news reached them but they decided to just make it up to the younger when they returned to school.

Fate is as cruel as the rushing hands of time, both ruthlessly tearing down carefully constructed lies. Spring brought delicate new flowers and as their petals flew upwards with the gentle breeze, so did the younger friend; their frail body remaining lifeless on earth as their mind escaped the fatal clutches of our world. The older wished desperately the two could've had  a beautiful reunion, a new beggining such as the many others the new season brought that surrounded the now solitary child.

In their young, grievous mind the older somehow came to the conclusion that if they could not have their friend with them in their present life it would be easier, better even to forfeit ever seeing them in fleeting memories and so decided begrudgingly to forget the younger had ever existed. And so the melodic laughter that once rang through their ears faded, and slowly the beautiful worlds they once imagined dulled into the lonesome one they were living.

Years passed and as the child reconnected with their past, the gush of forgotten memories poured back over them, horrifically warped images of their beloved memories forced into the broken friend's mind.

And now as the days wear on the older must live with the guilt of their actions as the horrors of resurfaced grief encompass them, blindly dragging them back to a long lost time  where the sun now shines black and vines that once lined the walls of countless imaginary castle reach out to squeeze the air from heaving lungs. And their face hold the eyes that must meets the white paint over and over as it shifts before them into the slippery white satin that entombs a corpse.

With strong words come harsh consequences the child finds as instead of soft laughter ringing sweetly in their ears, their own angry words spin faster in their head.

Agonising sorrow now lays heavily on a broken child's shoulders, cracked soul missing a happy childhood treasure. That precious little thing, discovered years ago, ripped from them so harshly by the evil clutches of an innocent mistake.

A white lie turned dark as red blood lays heavy on hands which once held the cursed prize that brought about this shattered truth.

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A/N This is sadly the reality to my wishful thinking in the previous chapter.