Losing Me Finding You (3 page)

12th April 1986

Ten years old

The first ping hits my window before I even open my eyes. I smile, knowing who it is. I sit up in bed and pull the blinds open. Looking across the gap between our two houses, I see the boy standing in the window opposite, facing me. He’s smiling. I wave at Ben and watch as he gestures for me to open my window.

“Hi, Evie,” he says.

“Hi, Ben,”

“Want to come over?” he asks.

I nod yes and quickly jump out of bed, scrambling around my room as I try to get dressed. As soon as I’m done, I run downstairs, waving to my mum in the kitchen, before opening the front door. Ben’s waiting for me on the front path.

“Hey, Evie Roberts,” he says, a big smile on his face.

I stop, my heart lurching at the memory now it’s there. “Actually, it’s Evie Sutherland now,” I tell him, shrugging as though it’s no big deal.

“It is?” Ben asks, his head tilting in confusion. I’m not sure what I’m going to say when he asks me why. Even I don’t know the answer to that. “Huh,” is all he says, and I can tell he’s thinking, trying to decide if this is important. “Well, you’ll always just be Evie to me,” he says, surprising me.

I’ll always just be Evie to him.

I smile. “And you’ll always be Ben to me.”

Ben smiles back at me. “Good,” he says. “Now, let’s go.”

And just like that, it’s done.

28th February 1988

Eleven years old

I can’t sleep.

I’ve been lying here staring at the ceiling ever since I went to bed two hours ago. I don’t want to fall asleep because I’m afraid of what’s going to happen. I think I’m going to disappear again. Now that I can remember what happened last time, I know what to look for and I can feel it.

The strange, sinking emptiness I had on the afternoon before my real eighth birthday is back. That feeling of losing something, that connection I seem to have to Ben, it’s all back again. It’s stronger than before and it’s taking everything I have in me just to stay in my room and not go to him.

It’s too late now and I’ve run out of time to explain it to him anyway.

We saw each other today, but nothing was said. I wanted to, really wanted to tell him about tonight, about what I knew deep down was going to happen. But I couldn’t, because I was too afraid and I didn’t want him to think I was weird, or crazy, or someone he should stay away from.

I just wish I could find a way to let him know that tomorrow when he wakes up and I’m no longer here, that I haven’t really left him. That my disappearing isn’t by choice and I will do everything I can to find him again. Although I have no idea how that’s going to happen, especially now I know that come tomorrow, I won’t even remember him.

I didn’t even realise that’s what had happened until I found him again two years ago. Didn’t even realise that I’d forgotten the person who is my best friend. How is it possible that all of those memories are here, but buried so deep inside me, that I can’t even find them?

And they were all there; they were just waiting to be found. Waiting until I’d found Ben. Because when I find Ben, he somehow unlocks them. It’s like he is the key to all of my memories and I have no idea how or why, but most of all, I have no idea what’s going to happen next time.

What happens if I don’t find him again?

Tap.

Am I stuck not remembering?

Tap.

Will he somehow find me?

Tap.

What if we never find each other?

Tap, tap.

I sit up in bed, listening for the sound.

Tap.

And then I smile because I know what it is, who it is. Sliding down my bed, I put my face to the window; the blinds already open, just as Ben throws another tiny rock from his bedroom window.

I hold up my hand and wave to him, watch as he smiles and waves back at me. Then he closes his window and holds up a piece of paper for me. I squint in the light cast by a street lamp to see what’s written in large black writing.

Don’t open the window, it’s freezing!

I smile; giving him the thumbs up before I run to my desk, grab a stack of paper and my own marker so I can write back to him.

What are you doing awake?
I ask him.

Ben smiles as he reads my note before turning to write his answer.
Can’t sleep. You?

Same.
I write back, knowing it’s more than that.

I watch as Ben smiles at me before leaning down to write.
Sure?
He says.
Maybe you’re just excited for tomorrow?

I shake my head at him, knowing it’s actually the complete opposite. I know what tomorrow’s going to bring, and although it will be my birthday, it won’t include Ben. I don’t write anything back to him though because I don’t want to say the words. Ben watches me for a few minutes as if he’s trying to work out what I’m thinking. I want to open the window and scream it all out to him. Scream everything that’s about to happen to me into the cold night air. But I don’t.

Ben smiles at me again and then goes back to writing something. I wait for him to finish and when he holds it up, I can’t help but smile.
You want your real birthday present, don’t you?

My eyes drift from the paper he’s holding, up to his face. He’s smiling at me and I’m pretty sure I’m smiling at him too. I remember the last
real
birthday present he gave me. It’s been sitting there, at the back of my mind, ever since all of my memories of him came back.

A kiss.

I’ve been waiting for another one ever since, daring myself to give him one. I wish I could, but a part of me has been too scared, which is stupid, because it’s Ben we’re talking about here.

Ben tilts his head at me now, and I realise he’s still waiting for my answer. I nod at him, giving him another thumbs up just in case he can’t see me. Ben smiles again and turns away to write something. When he holds it up to me, suddenly all of the air in my lungs comes rushing out. I feel my heart stop, right inside my chest, and it’s like everything around us has stopped moving.

It’s as though he’s somehow frozen time again.

I look at the words, stare at them as they are pressed against the glass of his window. Big, bold, black letters that aren’t afraid, or scared, or worried. They’re asking me a question.

Will you be my girlfriend?

And now they’re waiting for my answer. I know what my answer is; I just have to find the perfect way to tell him, especially tonight. I want him to know that there is only one answer to this question and it will always be the same answer, even when I’m not here tomorrow, or the next day or the day after that.

The answer will remain the same for as long as it takes me to find him again. And then some.

I look up at Ben’s face. He’s not smiling anymore; he’s simply watching me and waiting. I need to give him my answer and just as I’m about to write the word for him, I hear it.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The stupid alarm I set on my watch, warning me of what was going to happen tonight. Like I could possibly forget.

I feel a lump in my throat and I automatically hold up my hand, my fingers pressing against the glass, wanting Ben to stop and wait, to freeze time for me again. To give me just a second or two more so I can do this. I turn towards my watch, sitting on the table beside my bed, begging it to stop, begging it to rewind. But it doesn’t and as I turn back to Ben, the beeps continue, reminding me that time isn’t stopping tonight, it’s running out.

He’s still waiting for my answer and as I start to nod at him, as I mouth the word, I accidentally blink.

And when my eyes open, Ben is gone.

And I have no idea whether he knows I said
yes.

Twelve years old

The sun shines into my room and today I turn twelve years old.

I open my eyes as the word, “Yes,” falls from my lips.
Why am I saying
yes
?
As I stare up at the ceiling, I feel like something has changed. This place feels different, but I don’t know how or why. The remnants of a dream, a question, linger in my subconscious and I wonder if that’s why I was saying
yes
.

But what was the question?

I reach out and switch off the alarm, which is beeping beside my bed in reminder of something that feels like more than just a wake-up call. When I do, I’m left with silence. There are no noises from the rest of the house and when I glance over, I can see my bedroom door is open.

I throw back the covers and climb out of bed, walking towards the mirror that hangs over my desk in the corner of the room. The first thing that seems strange is my hair. It’s short, shorter than I thought it was going to be. It’s still dark though, but today it’s cut into a bob, which barely touches my shoulders. I have to admit, it’s cute and I sort of like it.

I lean in and examine my eyes. They aren’t brown like I thought they’d be either, not even close. I’d like to call them hazel, but even that doesn’t fit. Because they aren’t a mix of brown and green, they are both. Green around the edges and brown in the middle and it’s amazingly distinct.

I blink once and they stay the same. The rest of me looks as I remember, or at least as I think I do. But I’m still not sure. When I stop and try to remember what I looked like yesterday, nothing comes to me.

Shrugging at my reflection, I turn and pull a jumper on over my pajamas, before venturing out of my room to find out what else feels different.

The house is two-story and when I walk out of my bedroom door, I’m met with more silence. There are no sounds of parents, no brothers or sisters, just complete and utter silence. I look to the left and see an open door, leading to what looks like the master bedroom. The bed is made and no one seems to be there. To my right, I see a room that’s been made up like a study and then another room, the bathroom. Again, they are both empty. I walk slowly down the stairs and find myself almost immediately in the front living room, which is empty. I turn and walk down the hall where I pass a small bathroom, a dining room, and finally, a kitchen, all of which are empty.

The entire house and even the backyard, which I can now see out the kitchen window, are empty. And none of it feels familiar.

Just as I’m about to walk around the house again, I hear a clicking sound. Before I have time to wonder what it is, a small black and white dog comes bounding into the kitchen; its paws up on my knees as it tries desperately to leap into my arms.

“Hey, mister,” I say, reaching down to pat him. He’s wearing a collar and on it hangs a nametag with
Paws
engraved on it.

That’s seriously my dog’s name?

“Where is everyone?” I ask, pushing him off me as I look around the kitchen for something to eat. The note is sitting by the kettle, alongside an empty mug with a tea bag already in it. There are two slices of bread waiting in the toaster and I flick on the kettle as I pick up the sheet of paper.

Morning Evie, I hope you slept well. Dad has a work dinner tonight, so he won’t be home. I should be in around 7pm and will bring some take-away home with me. Happy birthday…have a good day at school. Love Mum x

“Huh,” I say to the empty house. “Guess this means I’m on my own.”

And for some strange reason, that I don’t yet understand, I feel more than just on my own.

I feel
alone
.

I eventually find my way around the house, discover the school uniform that’s hanging in my wardrobe and make my way to school. Thankfully the address of my school is stamped into the front page of what I’ve discovered are my library books, because I can’t for the life of me remember where it is.

When I get to school, no one stops me to say hello or ask how I am. I don’t recognise anyone and instead, I make my way to the library where the librarian instantly greets me.

“Morning, Evie, you’re in early today?” she says.

“Yeah,” I answer, having no clue what my normal routine is. I wish I could explain why I’ve woken up feeling like this, not remembering or recognising anything. But I can’t. So I return the library books that I somehow know I have finished and head over to browse the shelves for something new to read.

“Hey, Evie, happy birthday,” a girl my age says, pulling me into a hug.

“Thanks,” I reply, as I stand frozen in her arms.

She pulls back, smiling at me as though this is all very normal. I’m guessing we know each other, that maybe we’re friends. “You okay?” she asks. “You look a little weird.”

I shake my head and try smiling at her. “No, I’m fine,” I say. “Just half asleep.”

Only it’s more than that. I’m not just half asleep, I feel like I’m trapped in a dream. A dream that I can’t understand, a dream that I don’t even know the start, the middle or the end of.

“Come on,” she says, dragging me between the stacks to the back of the library. “I’ve got something for you.”

She pulls me down to the floor and digs around in her school bag before pulling out a small box, wrapped in silver paper. My heart skips a beat at the sight of it, but I don’t know why.

“Happy birthday, Evie,” she says, handing it to me.

My hands are shaking as I take it from her. There’s a small card on the front where she’s written the same words, only they have
love Jane
after them. At least I know her name now.

“Open it,” Jane says, smiling as I look up at her.

“Thank you,” I answer as my shaking fingers pull off the ribbon and the paper. Inside is a small box and as I lift the lid, I get a glimpse of silver, making my heart pound even more. But, it’s not what I was expecting, or expected. It’s a necklace, but it’s different to what I thought it would be. The pendant is a heart that’s broken in half, the words
best friends
engraved across both halves.

“See, one half is for you,” Jane says. “And one half is for me. Pretty cool, huh.”

I glance up and see her smiling face. She looks so happy and nice, so excited by her gift. And as I hand one half of the necklace to her, I smile back, grateful that she is my friend.

But as I watch her put the necklace on, I can’t help but feel a little sad too. Because somewhere, deep down, I know that Jane isn’t my best friend, and that really the person who is, whoever they are, already owns the other half of my heart. My whole heart actually.

I just wish I knew who it was.

And how I could find them.