Just A Memory

The Park

Serenity, Serenity Park

Tuesday, September 4th, 9:50 PM

I've never been to Serenity Park before. My mom would never allow it. Serenity Park is surrounded by a stone wall, with moss and flowers of all fragrances and colors growing over it. There is an archway made up of hedge which is meant to be the entrance, decorated with beautiful lush red roses and other flowers. It is about 50 meters away and I am too lazy to walk over, as the showdown is about to start and the wall is barely over four feet tall. From my current point of view, this seems to be the garden area of the park, as it is filled with flowers and fruits.

As I thrust myself over the garden wall, I cannot see the bully or the boy. Checking my watch, the time has just hit 9:52, and I am eight minutes too early. So I scout the park out. There is a small creek running through, with small stone bridges running across it with beautiful stone gargoyle sculptures placed on the sides of the bridges. Benches line the walkways every few hundred feet to provide rest for weary travelers. I walk up to one to examine it.

The bench is right next to an apple tree. The inscription on it reads, "In Memory of Rose. She died a hero."

Nothing special.

All in all, the park isn't that big, and I can see almost all of it from where I currently stand. If they arrived now, I would be able to see them from far away. That is a double edged sword though, as they should be able to see me clearly. I get down to the ground, hidden behind a hill as to not attract attention. The watch makes a small noise. It's 10:00 PM. If they chickened out and decided not to arrive, I would not get my answers. I would've lost a large amount of sleep and, with the luck I've had on my first day at school, fail all the classes.

Since I have already come this far, I decide to wait out a few more minutes.

When the time hits 10:07, the bully and two of his friends finally arrive from the opposite side of the park. They sit down at the bench I was examining earlier- Rose's bench. I cannot see the boy yet.

10:09. The boy hasn't appeared.

10:10. The boy is still not there.

10:11. Still no.

As the time ticks on, the bully gets more and more impatient. Eventually, he yells out at the top of his lungs.

"WHERE ARE YOU? WE MADE A DEAL! COME OUT AND FACE ME LIKE A MAN."

At this moment the boy drops down beside him, hanging from the apple tree.

"Oh, hi. I didn't see you there. You know, be louder next time or I won't hear you." The boy says nonchalantly, dropping down from the tree and landing perfectly on his two feet, not even bothering to balance himself.

"Oh, before I beat you to a pulp, please wait a second." The boy says, pulling out a comb and brushing his already perfectly combed hair to the side.

The bully scoffs. "What makes you think you can do that?"

The boy cracks a small smile. "Richard E. Cornell, 15 years old and birthday on June 13th."

The bully is taken off guard by the boy's knowledge, but quickly changes to a more aggressive stance, ready to beat the daylights out of the boy.

"Stop making this a joke." He practically spits out. "You are going to get absolutely destroyed."

The boy continues, seemingly not hearing what the bully said. "In sixth and seventh grade, your average grade was a 95%. An excellent student. In eighth, it dropped to a 72%. What happened?"