Reeve

Would she remember me?

Lost in my thoughts, I walked down the same road and traveled down the same path I had taken so many times in the past. I smiled as I looked around and took in my all-too-familiar surroundings - the scenery that I hadn't seen in over nine years but had never forgotten.

Having lived by the beach for the majority of my childhood, I had grown accustomed to the daily bustling scenery of adventurous tourists and families vacationing - especially in the summertime.

But summer was over and the usually packed, crowded neighborhood was now silent. The only audible sound was the wind, howling in the air as it blew the leaves off of the trees.

The yellow streetlights cast a dingy glow on the sidewalks, and the neighborhood showed no signs of life. Families were probably gathered inside the comfort of their homes for dinner, and little children were probably being tucked into bed.

A couple of minutes later, I had arrived.

Although Haven's peach, two-story house had hardly changed, the atmosphere that surrounded it was absurdly different; there were now paint chips and cracks along the exterior walls, and the normally vibrant, green front yard now displayed yellow, wilted grass instead. The garden of bright, colorful flowers was no longer there - in its place were tall, bushy weeds whose deaths were long overdue. The porch light flickered on and off, as if it was trying desperately to stay visible in the darkness by using all of its strength; it failed miserably.

I tried to ignore the current ambience of the house. Instead, I smiled as I recalled the last memory I had at this house before moving away.

I picked up the pace as I walked, excited to finally give Haven her birthday gift. I had worked hard on it for the past few weeks, drawing and erasing, coloring and tracing, painting and sketching. And even though Haven hadn't talked to me in the past few months, I still wanted to surprise her by giving her this gift.

Even if she didn't consider me her friend, she was still mine.

As I neared her house and walked up the driveway, I saw a tiny figure sitting on the porch. Her shoulders were slumped and her head was tucked into her arms. Her brown hair surrounded her and covered most of the bare skin on her arms, leaving almost nothing showing.

"What's wrong?" I asked Haven, taking a seat beside her and tucking her gift into the back pocket of my blue jeans.

"It's nothing, Evan," she responded curtly in a muffled voice. Her head was still in between her arms, so she talked directly to the ground while shifting her body to face away from me.

"You can tell me anything, Goldie. You know that, right?"

"Why do you always call me Goldie? That's not my name." Her head rose up slightly as she rested her chin on her arm to take a peek at me.

"I know, it's your last name. Gold. But it's also because you're always bright, warm, and golden, just like the sun."

"Oh." The corners of her mouth lifted as she fought to hold back a smile. Her head rose up completely and she scooted a little closer to me.

"So, will you tell me why you're sad now? You don't have to if you don't want to," I quickly added. "I just want to help."

"I wanted a bouncy house. Mommy and Daddy promised me I could have one for my eighth birthday! But they didn't get me one," she said with a sad, faraway look in her eyes as she pointed to the open area in her front yard. "They didn't even know today was my birthday."

I stared at the side of her large, brown eyes, which were still looking towards the ground. They were dry and clear, without a single tear to reflect her sadness. In the short, two years I had known her, I had never seen her cry - no matter how badly she had gotten hurt or how sad she was.

The wheels spun in my head as I tried to think of something that would cheer her up.

Then, a light bulb went off.

"I'll be right back," I promised as I rose up from my seat. "Don't leave!"

I came back a few minutes later, hiding the bouquet of pink, violet, blue, and white flowers behind my back.

"Where did you go?" she asked as she looked up at me questioningly.

"Here," I said as I held the flowers up to her face. Embarrassed, I avoided her eyes, thankful that the flowers momentarily blocked her view of me. But I couldn't resist - I had to take a peek.

Her eyes lit up and she didn't try to stop the smile that crept up onto her face this time. "Wow," she said as she gingerly took the flowers from my hands. "Thank you! I love flowers."

"No problem," I said as I flashed her a smile and touched the card in my back pocket. I loved her smile. It was so bright and contagious, and it always reached up to the corner of her eyes and lit up her entire face. "I have something--"

"Did you pick these from our garden?" she asked blankly, cutting me off abruptly. Her eyes went back and forth between the flowers in her hands and the side of the garden as she compared them.

Uh-oh.

"Um... Y-yeah," I muttered nervously while scratching my head slowly with my index finger. "Sorry..."

She laughed, breaking the tension. "It's okay. Well, not really because Mommy will probably kill you if she finds out," she warned. "One time I picked one flower and she sent me to my room for hours. But thank you, anyways."

Suddenly, a loud voice boomed and called from inside the house. "Haven! Where are you, little girl?"

"I gotta go," she whispered as she got up quickly and dusted herself off.

For the short moment that we made eye contact, I thought I saw a flicker of fear in her widened eyes. But she looked down quickly and turned around to reach for the doorknob, so I couldn't see it anymore.

That's silly, I thought. Why would Haven be afraid?

"Wait!" I called out quickly to get her attention. I took the drawing I had made for her out of my pocket and held it up. "Here."

When she turned back around, I handed it to her, face up. "Happy birthday, Goldie."

Her eyebrows crinkled as she brought them together. "How did you know it was my birthday?" She sounded curious, hesitant, and touched.

"I would never forget it."

"Thanks, Evan." She gave me another small smile, and inched slowly to the open door. "I'll see you around?"

"Sure," I replied, smiling and waving as she slipped back into her house quietly.

But I never did see her after that.

Now, nine years later, I was finally going to see her again - the girl who had never left my mind since the third grade.

A piercing screech from the brakes of a dark green, beat-up Toyota Camry pulled me out of my thoughts and made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

After parking it crookedly in the driveway of Haven's house, a man staggered out of it. He slammed the car door without bothering to lock it. He turned to face the direction I was standing in, so I was able to get a good look at him.

Dirty. That was the first word that came to mind when I caught a glimpse of him in the dim streetlight. But even in the dingy light, I was able to see that there was stubble everywhere on his face - above his upper lip, on both cheeks, on his chin, and slightly below the chin, running down into the top of his neck. His slightly long hair was greasy as if he hadn't showered in a few weeks and repeatedly touched it with his oily hands; his eyes were bloodshot and watery. His clothes were wrinkled and had holes in them, and by the way he kept tripping over himself, I knew he was drunk.

He took a few steps in my direction smiled at me coldly, tipping an invisible hat and slightly bowing his head while never letting his eyes leave my own. I saw the dirt caked under his long, yellow fingernails. With that, he turned and walked straight into the house.

My body involuntarily shuddered; he had left me with an uneasy feeling.

Was that Haven's uncle? Or a family friend? I hadn't recognized the man and was pretty sure I had never seen him before.

Almost immediately, I heard voices shouting and arguing from the house. The loud noises echoed in the silence of the quiet neighborhood, so the sounds were even more magnified.

Was Haven in trouble?

I knew I had to do something. I rapped my knuckles loudly against the door for a few seconds, but there was no response. I tried to turn the knob, but it was locked and didn't budge. I ran around the house, looking for another way in, but I saw none.

I was still debating whether or not I should throw a rock at the window to get inside when I heard the front door opened abruptly.

"Go now, Father, before I call the police," a shaky voice threatened from inside. Although it sounded more mature than when I had last heard it, I recognized it immediately. I couldn't see her, but I could hear her. And I could almost imagine her.

Father?

The drunk had looked nothing like the man Mr. Gold used to be. He used to be clean and would only dress in crisp, ironed clothes. His hair was always styled short because he never liked the feeling of his hair touching his forehead, and to ensure that wouldn't happen, he got a haircut once every other week.

Mr. Gold had been a happy, loving, and caring man.

So, surely, that man I had seen wasn't Haven's father?

He turned to face my direction again, but this time, he didn't see me. His cold, flat eyes were staring at a spot in front of the door, presumably where Haven was standing.

He laughed after releasing a stream of curse words and insults. "I should've dropped you on your head when you were born. I would've done the world a favor."

How dare he.

I clenched my fists, ready to speak up. No one should ever talk to her like that. Especially not her own father.

Oh, Haven. What happened in the past nine years?

My heart went out to her as I thought about what Haven had to go through. I knew her family had been torn apart when she was eight, but I didn't know to what extent. I definitely did not expect anything like this.

I cursed under my breath for not being more observant as a kid. I should've stopped her from going back into her house that day when I thought I saw fear flash in her eyes; how could I have been so careless?

The next few seconds felt unreal; everything happened in slow motion. Mr. Gold's fist pulled back, and I felt both my gut and heart wrench. I knew I had to stop him - I had to protect her.

Feeling confident from the adrenaline rush that ran throughout my body, I took a step forward and drew my own fist to punch him straight in the nose. There was a loud crunch as my knuckles made contact with his face, and soon, the blood was flowing freely.

Mr. Gold's eyes shifted to me, finally noticing me, as he stared at me with pure hatred. His eyes were darker than the blackest night, unforgiving, and relentless.

Bile rose in my throat as I felt his gaze drilling holes into my eyes, but I forced it back down. I couldn't back down; I had to protect her.

"You stupid, arrogant asshole! Who do you think you are?" He stared directly at me with his lifeless, murderous eyes and flailed his arms in anger.

He reminded me of a flopping fish that had been taken out of water.

I took a breath to warn him to leave, but he interrupted me before I could get in a word.

"You idiot. Is this your personal bodyguard now, Haven?"

Yes.

Mr. Gold touched his nose and wiped the blood that was dripping onto his lips.

"God. I'm bleeding. You'll pay for this, you dumbass!"

I saw his eyes shift again, back to where Haven was standing. I could almost hear the gears in his brain shift as he calculated his next move, and I gritted my teeth harshly when I finally understood what he was planning.

He clenched his fist another time and stepped forward with a sick, twisted smile on his face. As if he enjoyed inflicting pain onto his baby girl.

Before he could do anything, I grabbed a hold of his fist to prevent him from hitting Haven. I was so angry that my hands were shaking and I had trouble trying to control my breathing.

In, out. In, out. Good. Deep breaths now, I pictured my mom saying to me, just as she had whenever I was nervous or angry as a kid. I followed the advice of her voice in my head, and once I had calmed down, I started thinking more clearly.

"I'll make you wish you were dead," Mr. Gold said through clenched teeth. I didn't doubt it, but I was going to put up one hell of a fight first.

I knew I had to get him away from her house. I knew I had to protect her.

I quickly went over my plan and prayed it would work.

Then, I did one of the few things I knew how to do best.

I ran.