Dear Stanley [Watty's 2019. Completed]

City

Sunday, March 5th

Dear Stanley,

I am smiling now, remembering a fond memory with you. It seems to calm me down, seems to take my mind off the treacherous nightmare.

When you were 16, Mom and Dad were out a party, late at night, and they trusted you to be in charge. We were supposed to be in bed by 10.

Instead of putting me straight to bed after dinner however, you snuck me outside. I remember it so vividly, like it was yesterday. The night was still, the wind was like a secret that brushed sensually against our skin, so soft, like a caress. The moonlight draped over our figures, and the stars twinkled with humor as they watched two brothers run away from the small town that confined them for so long, run run run all the way into the city with the towering glass building promising fortune and wealth.

Well, we didn't actually run into the city Stanley. But in my imagination, it seems like we did. It seemed like we flew, our wings stretching out to cup the air as we glided into it. But in reality, you stole Mom's car, since our parents took Dad's car to go to the party. You drove uncertainly. I remember we were giddy with excitement and nervousness. That was the first time I had done something major against my parents rules. But I knew for a fact that wasn't the first time you had done something wrong. You were always the reckless child, the one that got yelled at. I always admired that careless bravery you had within you.

I remember feeling refreshed as soon as I saw the first transition from our bland concrete town into the glittery and hectic city. We rarely went there. I remember stealing a glance at you, remember seeing the streetlights yellowish glow slice across your face through the car window as you bit back a childish grin that made you look 5 despite the fresh stubble growing on your chin. I remember putting the windows down, I remember the loud pumping music from the night life - which was now completely engulfing us - and I remember seeing lazy throbs of people moving slowly as they devoured the streets and caused traffic. The smell of delicious foods wafting from restaurants made my stomach growl.

The sky was a dark bluish purple and the air was thicker there, a type of stuffiness that can only be caused by dancing and partying bodies out late in the city on a Saturday night. We were totally in awe, the same stupidly drunk people who drivers around us honked at were the people we admired and laughed at. Stanley, in town we never saw this type of thing. The city life held this sparkly magic.

For a few minutes, we just rolled around in the car, looking around in fascination. On both sides of the road, there were restaurants and clubs open, the city life I always read about and saw in T.V. shows but rarely got to witness. There were girls in amazing tight dresses, men in shorts and tank tops, everyone having a smile on their face. There were families eating in restaurants, people yelling random stuff out in the street through their drunk stupor, there was basically just people being people. There were just people having a good time and that's why I think I carved this memory into my mind. To remind myself what happiness looks like.

That's when I knew Stanley. That you belonged in a place like this. The energy here matched you perfectly, it was majestical and unreal, just like you. That's when I knew you were going to run away someday.

"Take me with you when you go away, ok Stanley?" I remember asking. You laughed and ruffled my hair.

"Of course, kid."

But Stanley. That was a lie. You didn't take me with you.

Instead you ran and left me all alone, a small shadow with nothing to chase after.