Short Stories

Friendship

Why was it here? Right now? It made no sense! It's that same bike! The same bicycle from the last time! You couldn't make sense of it. Your brain felt like it was closing in on itself, you were breathing too hard and too fast, clutching at your shirt, why now? Panic. Anxiety, sweat. You want to run after the bike, but you can't even move, you can't even see the person who's riding it! Your hands clutch at your shirt desperately. Breathe! Breathe! Breathe! You think, as if that was helping.

The crowd soon dispersed, becoming fewer and fewer and you were soon able to move again, to breathe normally again. Another anxiety attack. It was getting more and more frequent. But you can't worry about that now! You start running in the general direction the bike went, but you knew, deep down, that it was long gone. But where?

You yell in frustration. You've been seeing that same bike for the past month and it wasn't fair that you never got to catch up to it. It wasn't fair that you never got to see who was on the bike. You knew that it was kind of weird, chasing after a bike, but it looked old. And it had no color. Especially since you never got to see who was on it... It just wasn't fair.

You walked home, feeling like your tail was between your legs.

Life went on, and you haven't seen that bike again. You took a deep breath, the fresh, clean air filling your lungs. It was refreshing. A smile tugged at your face. You stepped over some roots, the wind carrying some leaves past your feet.

You took up the habit of walking the same path every afternoon. It was nice. Until you fell, tumbling down the hill, grunting, unable to even see where you were or stop yourself until you hit the bottom, face first in the dirt. You groan, your muscles were feeling sore, not just from the walking.

It took you a minute to sit up, your hand holding your head, feeling the dirt on your face and body, dusting off as much as possible before you stood.

Something glinted in your eye, your eyes following what the sun wanted you to see. You felt a lump in your throat. Your surroundings were closing in on itself, you couldn't breathe. Now you knew why that bike was following you around.

"You left me here," you heard, but you couldn't move, the sound of the river flowing, and screaming. The bike wasn't real... It was dead, along with your best friend.