Promise That You'll Remember That You're Mine

Slow, yet steady notes rang through the room. She’d been seated on the piano for about 3 hours now. Her hands couldn’t stop, once she started playing she kept going, segueing from one piece to the other. Some of the pieces came slowly to her, her fingers struggled to remember what came next; they clumsily pressed on the keys. While some of them had been burned through her mind before and it was like clockwork the way her hands glided over the keys. Something with playing the piano gave her comfort. Comfort in knowing that a little piece of her was still there. There was still a semblance, though limited, of herself.

“You have a lot of talents, you know?”

“I haven’t played in a long time,” she craned her head slowly towards the nurse.

“Well it’s still better than nothing,” she sent her a soft smile. “Now, let me check on your bandages.”

2006

“John Cornelius, you will stay and eat breakfast here.”

John flinched as he heard his mother’s stern voice from his bedroom door. She had been going on and on about how he barely spent any time at home. Now, she was just about ready to whack him on the head if he even dared to leave the house first thing in the morning.

He enjoyed his family’s company, really. Even if some found it lame and awkward, he had fun. They were easy people to get along with and they knew how to have fun. Though, these past days he barely saw them. Usually, his mom brushed it off as teenage behaviour but lately she was starting to chide him for it. It was probably because of the whole college issue. John had told them that he didn’t really want to go to college and like any other parent they were “concerned.” For them not going to college wasn’t ideal. What about his future? He’d tried explaining to them that what he wanted to pursue would make him happier. They’d argued that his band had slim chances of making it.

Everyone was already downstairs by the time he got there. He ended up sitting between his brothers, Ross and Shane, as they were talking animatedly about a “super cool” baseball move they just learned. “It’s so easy, at first it was confusing but you get the hang of it sooner or later. I swear, man, you have to go play ball with us sometime! Hey… John! Are you listening?”

“Oh, what– yeah sure,” he replied completely out of loop.

“John, you should really make an effort to talk to your brothers,” his mother commented as she placed a platter of eggs on the table.

“He was probably thinking of that hot Russian chick,” Shane said, giggling.

“I was no-“

“Russian chick? Who is your brother talking about John?” Jenny cut him off before he could protest.

“No-nothing, she’s no one,” he said, “Shane doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

Breakfast ran smoothly after that. It was the same as always, his dad making awful jokes, his mom talking about something on the lifestyle channel, and his brothers talking about sports and the like. He was happy and he felt at ease being with his family. Other than his friends they were the people that he valued. They took the weight of the world from his shoulders and made everything easier.

John sat in the driver’s seat as he drove aimlessly around the streets of Phoenix. The soft hums of a song he didn’t recognize were coming from the radio, though he didn’t turn it off. He had turned on the radio in hopes of distracting his mind. Distract his mind from what had been occupying it for days on end now: the girl from the train. His mind had spent the last few days rearranging it to just to make room for her to stay. Her blue eyes that matched the colour of a sea that explorers have yet to discover had burned itself in his thoughts.

He’d turned on the radio because he was bothered at how quiet his mind was. Even if it was some crappy song on it was something. John knew that it was a strange habit but it made sense to him. He never liked silence. He was fine with literal silence but he never liked it if it was his own thoughts that were barren.

This turned him into a constant thinker, someone who keenly observed things. That’s why he did this often, driving for miles with no actual destination. Sometimes he ended up by the lake, the desert, or a park in the middle of some suburb. This consumed most of his time, but it wasn’t necessarily wasted. Driving around gave him space to think and just wander around and discover the confines of his own mind.

He’d been driving for quite some time now and he had decided to take a break and rest. He could see the iron arch which read: “Erichsen Park” not too far from where he was. John pulled up along the sidewalk and pulled the key out of the ignition. He knew this place, he’d been multiple times and it was enough to know the landscape of the park.

It was nearing just after sunset and the park was mostly empty save for a handful of people leisurely occupying parts of the park. Near one of the flowerbeds were a row of benches and he walked towards it. John sat on the bench that faced a grassy patch of land that slowly sloped upwards. On the slope rested a big oak tree that spread its branches high with the moon creeping behind it. The tree’s trunk was covered with carvings and etches from people who had visited the park before.

He lowered his stare near the bottom of the trunk and it was as if all the air was knocked from his lungs. He had to be hallucinating John thought. There beside the oak tree stood a pale, thin girl about his age. It wasn’t just any girl; it was Olivia Malone regarded as one of the best ballerinas of her generation. But to John, she was the girl from the train, the girl who had intrigued him then disappeared.

There she sat, strands of her brown hair escaping from where it was gathered in a ponytail on top of her head. Her plain white shirt hung loosely off her bony frame, showing her pale skin that glowed in the moonlight. The vividness of her blue eyes that once shone had faded, instead an empty and lifeless stare was left. Underneath her eyes you could see dark circles that had already sunken. She looked so tired and empty, as if she had been hollowed out.

He didn’t know what to do. There was a possibility that his mind was just making this up and that she wasn’t really there but it felt real, somehow. How was she here? What kind of messed up shit was this? At the moment he had two choices: first, he could ignore the fact that she was there and continue with his life or he could walk up to her. He couldn’t help but to lean towards the latter, he was inexplicably drawn to her but he was somewhat terrified. The aura she radiated was different than in the train. She had such a powerful demeanour on the train, now she was different. John felt a strange feeling knotting itself in his stomach. She had definitely sparked his curiosity but at the same time she made him a little afraid. He sucked in a deep breath and started moving towards her.

“It’s interesting isn’t it?” she said suddenly, startling John.

“Wh-what i-is?” he stumbled over his words. He had no idea that she knew he was there.

“The carvings on the tree,” she said softly as she stood up.

He couldn’t reply. John didn’t know how to, he stood there stunned.

“Can’t you see it?” she continued as she moved her hand around the trunk. “It’s peoples’ pasts. It’s their loves, their heartbreak, their losses, their triumphs, all the things they’ve felt in their lives it’s all carved into this tree. People’s pasts and lives were weaved into this tree. It tells their story. Isn’t it interesting? How just one tree can covey such compelling stories?”

“Uhm, I guess…” John mumbled, still trying to get over the shock.

“Don’t you wonder who they were? Who they loved? Who they hurt? Why were they here? Isn’t it all so wonderfully interesting?” Olivia rambled on.

John was unsure of what to do. She was obviously drunk or on something, she just kept on rambling. But something about the way she talked held John’s attention. Somehow in her drunken ramble she was eloquent, the words that fell from her mouth made sense. They made him think. Really think about who he was and how big the world he was moving in was. John didn’t understand how she could have this kind of effect on him.

Somewhere along the way she lost her footing and started to fall.

John’s senses suddenly came back to him. His feet moved him forward and caught the girl.

“Hi,” he breathed, and slowly set her down on the ground making sure she wouldn’t stumble again.

“Thanks, I’m fine,” Olivia closed her eyes and let out a sigh. She blindly reached for her pack of cigarettes and lit one.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” John asked her, worry etched onto his face. “Because I am a 100% sure you’re drunk which means I can’t just leave you here.”

“I’ll be fine,” she replied as her eyes starting to feel heavy.

“I completely doubt that, and you should know by no means I am leaving you alone here in the middle of the night.”

John suddenly felt responsible for her. All the worry and uncertainty he had prior to this had disappeared. He felt protective, and he could see that she was in no state to be wandering alone. Though he still didn’t know why she was there, but he knew that she was real. That he hadn’t been hallucinating all this time, and he had to stay with her.

“Are you a good listener?” she exhaled the smoke. “I know I sound crazy and fucked up, which I probably am–“

“Yeah,” John cut her off. He was eager to know more about her, and this was his chance. They were perfect strangers, but she was talking to him. He blamed it on the alcohol.

“You see, there was once this little girl. She thought she had the world in her hands and she could reach anything if she tried. And then she grew up and suddenly it seemed like she couldn’t do anything right anymore. She was lost. She didn’t know who she was anymore. She realized that all her life she was alone. Everything she knew was all a lie. Her world suddenly came crumbling down. And you know how when we were kids, you fall down and you’re told to pick yourself up and keep moving?” She asked and took another drag.

John didn’t reply, simply motioning for her to go on.

“Well, that never really worked for her. Other people cut themselves, put a band aid on it, and move on. She just kept bleeding. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. She was trying to survive but she was never good at that. She was just a fucked up girl looking for her own peace of mind. And somehow she came back, but she didn’t survive,” Olivia paused for a moment and put out her cigarette, and automatically took another one.

“Pieces of her were fighting over her trying to claim her at the same time. There was too much pain in there. To go back after a long time just made it worse for her. The people she left behind treated her the same. The same way that made her go mad in the first place. Her band aids had become the wounds. She didn’t know what happened to her, and who she’s become. And you probably shouldn’t hang out with her.”

“Some people have their own problems, I guess,” John immediately regretted what he said. What was wrong with him, how could he only have that pathetic answer. In truth he had no idea what to say. He was unsure of what to tell her. What do you tell someone who just told you something like this? John didn’t know what to do. This whole concept was foreign to him. Anything he said could make it worse. But before he could blurt out another reply she kept talking.

“I’ve tried to stop thinking, but it doesn’t work. My mind keeps torturing me. And here I am. I’m still alone. I’m still awake. I’m still afraid. I’m trying not to think of it. It doesn’t stop, it never does. My mind just keeps going on and on and I can’t stop it.”

John sat there, staring out into the open. He didn’t know how to react; he didn’t know if he should comfort her or just let her be. He felt the need to hold her, to protect her, but he didn’t know if that was appropriate. When he looked over to where she was she was already fast asleep.

“Olivia? Is that you?” a voice said behind her.

She gently turned her head towards him.

“Olly olly oxen free.”