Never Forget
"Mom! Mom! Gemma put glue in my hair!"
"Did not!"
"Did too!"
"Did-"
"Too!"
"Kids!" Ally Dawson massaged her temples as she watched her two kids fight. This is horrible. She thought to herself. Where the hell is Dallas? "What did I say about shouting in the house?"
Gemma frowned and stared at her blue slippers, trying her best to avoid eye contact with her brother Sammy. "Not to do it unless it's something important."
Ally smiled. No matter how ruthless, crazy and deceiving her kids were, she could never get enough of them. She loved them, to say the least. Gemma and Sammy Cevera were the best things that had ever happened to her, and she was patiently waiting for the day that they'd grow up and turn into two independent adults. Besides, they were already on their way.
The young brunette looked around the living room, seeing that everything was where it belonged. Sighing, she made her way upstairs and made sure the kids were in their room before taking down the ladder leading to the attic.
Dallas, her husband of eight years, had cleaned it out earlier in the week. He decorated it with glow-in-the-dark stars and put bean bags in each corner, the idea of turning it into a little play room for the kids coming to mind. However, it never really worked out. The ladder blocked the upper landing and the two children were too scared to go upstairs anyway.
But Ally knew that there was something much more important that the attic held. It wasn't just a broken dream of kids play rooms, but it was so much more than that.
It held memories.
Memories that Ally wished she could go back to. Memories that, no matter how much she hated herself for letting them go, would always stay in her heart.
Ally dug through some of the boxes and black bags before coming across the one marked, "Better Together". An unsettling wave of chills ran up her spine and she had to physically shake herself to get rid of them.
Carefully, she took the lid off and took out three scrapbooks.
On the cover of an electric blue book, was a picture of her. Nothing else, just a picture of her smiling when she was sixteen. Ally closed her eyes and remembered Miami. The calm blue waves, the girls with uneven tan lines yet looked so comfortable with the world. She missed it all.
She turned the page to reveal a big sentence scribbled in uneasy handwriting; "Thank You x".
Tracing the fountain pen ink with her finger, Ally smiled to herself. This is Austin's. Austin's handwriting. It looked so vivid, as if he'd literally just signed the book a few seconds ago. It still smelled fresh and the pictures were fastened to the white paper like they belonged there.
The next few pages contained pictures and sketches of Ally and Austin holding hands, talking to each other, even smiling at the camera in the goofiest way possible.
The next book had a white cover but a gold outlined spine. The cover had a picture of them two, her hands around his neck, his forehead leaning against hers like nothing in the world could force him to look up.
"I miss you," she whispered, tracing the picture with her eyes and scanning the background. The feeling was overwhelming, especially to a girl like Ally, who would give anything to go back. Anything to show Austin that what she said, what she did, was a mistake.
On the next page, there were more than 10 pictures stuck on the corner of one individual page. One whole sheet of white paper was filled with Austin's handwriting, this time in blue biro, so it looked smudged and older than the first one.
Quietly, Ally read it.
Ally,
Thank you so much for the help. I mean it. Remember that trip we took to Cony Island? Well, I stuck the pictures into this book so we won't forget. That was a lot of fun. Maybe we can do it again sometime, I really hope we can. xx
Ally giggled to herself. She remembered Austin running up to her the day after she received the book, apologizing for the fact that his mini "letter" was so awkward, because he didn't know what to write and he also had no clue what to put. Ally laughed and told him that it was no problem whatsoever, and that she found his awkwardness cute.
The third one... she didn't want to look at.
Because that third scrapbook bought back painful memories. Unlike the other two, which were trips to Cony Island and general everyday-lovey-dovey stuff, this book made Ally remember the agony they both went through.
The pages. The pages had nothing. From Austin's third, "Iloveyou" letter, to nothing at all. Ally had clawed the pictures out on the night she caught Austin doing something he wasn't supposed to.
I trusted him. That's what you get for being stupid.
Did he even like me at all? Obviously not.
He told me! He lied.
Am I not good enough? You never will be.
She still kept it. She kept the memories, but they were stashed away in every single closet in the three-story house she lived in with her wonderful husband Dallas and her two amazing children.
Ally dug deeper into the box and pulled out a stash of pictures. Hesitantly, she shifted through each and every one them until a particular one caught her eyes.
Austin wasn't looking at her. He was looking at her lips, and his hand was on her waist. Ally was looking at his eyes. They looked a pair, in the middle of Miami Beach with their arms around each other. They resembled those couples you'd see in a spin off black-and-white movie.
The last thing she remembered of Austin was the five beautiful, yet painful things he said to her before she left him.
"I love you. Never forget."
And that's why Ally never did. That's why the reluctant songwriter hid his CD's, his remixes, his scrapbooks and pictures under her bed, in the attic, in the cellar. She wanted to forget, but she couldn't.
Because that's how life goes. You meet a cute boy, you think he's the one, then society and whatever/whoever else messes it all up.
But it's okay for Ally. It's okay for Austin, too, because their story goes on. Austin has a wife, like Ally has Dallas. He has a daughter, Maisie. They both lead two different lives now, but no matter how hard they try, they will never forget each other.
Never.
Thanks for reading :)