The Ink In-Between: An Anthology

A Promise Kept

PROMPT: Three childhood friends. 

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You have to promise to keep it.

Cari looked down at the bracelet bunched up on the palm of her hand.

A handmade one, just a crude collection of painted shells of varying sizes, barely held together by a string.

It was much too small now, made to fit a child's wrist, not hers.

Don't throw it away or lose it.

An eyesore. That's what it was. Nothing to be proud of, not even as a child's first arts and craft project.

How many times had that thing nearly ended up in the trash?

How many times had she packed up her stuff and considered just leaving it behind, or gone back to get it, or turned her apartment or house upside down to find it because 'it had to be there somewhere!'?

How many times had she had to tie those knots, or had to explain to her roommates, her girlfriends, her wives, why she was glueing back and repainting seashells at 2AM in the goddamn morning?

So many close calls.

Too many.

That stupid thing shouldn't have lasted this long. Much less stayed intact.

And yet, there it was. All in one ugly, worn out piece in her hand. At the same place they'd made it in.

When we're older, we'll meet here.

At this very spot.

Cari looked back up at the sun, now setting over the horizon, where the sky met the sea. The seagulls cried above them, the waves crashed onto the shore and the breeze whistled in her ears.

The waves were lapping at her legs, wetting the bunched up hems of her jeans.

Frowning at the sunset, she closed her hand around the bracelet and took a deep breath.

And we'll throw it in the ocean.

It was hard.

Why was it so hard? Marissa had made it look so easy just a while ago. And yet here she was, taking an eternity to just throw away this one worthless trinket.

Why?

It was just a stupid, ugly bracelet they cobbled up together as kids. Nothing but a burden. Something she'd been dying to get rid of all these years, yet couldn't.

All because of a stupid promise. A promise she had no idea if the other two had even been keeping at all.

She'd often thought how she was the only crazy one who took it seriously. The only one that was struck by horrible, nagging guilt whenever she lost it or was this close to just dropping it in the trash can.

And it turned out that she wasn't the only one after all.

But that didn't matter anymore.

She'd kept the promise, right? She was here, at this small, empty, trash-filled, dying beach at the end of the world. She could throw it away without any guilt now.

But then why did her arm still? Why did her hand refuse to loosen its grip?

Why was she hesitating?

Only when the three of us get together again though, okay? 

You have to promise!

Cari's hands shook, but not from the freezing water.

Swallowing down on the lump in her throat, she shut her eyes, took a deep breath and screamed at the top of her lungs.

With one single, violent throw, the bracelet was gone, disappearing under the waves.

But she still kept screaming. Wordless at first, but it wasn't enough to let out all the hurt and pain in her chest. So, eventually, the screams began to take the shape of words.

"There, I did it. Marissa too. We kept our end of the fucking deal!"

She kicked and slapped at the waves, flaying and shaking at nothing but salty air, gripping her hair and scratching at her face, taking it all out on everything and nothing.

"What about you, huh? What about your fucking end of the deal? Did you forget your own stupid promise? Did you forget what you told us that day? You liar! You coward! Why aren't you here, huh? Why aren't you fucking here, dammit!"

Then it stopped. Just like that, all the energy drained out of her, and she was left in the middle of the swell, barely keeping herself above water as she sobbed into her hands.

She would've probably been swept away by them, if it weren't for Marissa rushing up to her and pulling her back to shore.

"It's okay. It's okay, Cari," Marissa repeated, over and over, into her ear, holding tightly onto her convulsing body, rocking them back and forth on the wet sand.

And that's where they stayed, until the sun had long sunk into the ocean and the seagulls had stopped crying.

It was just them. Two women, weeping over their old, lost friend.