9 years have passed since I last saw him. I was 9, and he 18. Together we had been trapped inside an art gallery, and barely escaped. Tons of things had happened to us that day, many of which I will never be able to forget. The thought of returning to an art gallery strikes fear into my heart.

Since that day I haven't been able to reenter another art gallery. My parents have had to remove all paintings in the house, as well as every piece of art. Without art life become duller and colourless, I soon fell into a depression. Instead of art, my parents began to bring flowers into the house as a replacement. I loved them. They reminded me of what had saved me in the art gallery. My father had realized that I took a liking to red and blue roses and continuously ordered them to put into my room. The blue flowers overwhelmed me with a sense of longing and sadness, but allowed to me remember him clearly.

As I grew older, boys began to take a liking to me. I've been told many times that I am quite beautiful. Beautiful I may be, but I am lonely. The other girls detested me, and I ignored the many boys who chased me. I turned down every boy who had ever confessed to me. It was not that I didn't want to give them a chance, but my heart belonged to him. He was the only one that I wanted. There has not been a day in 8 years that I haven't thought of him.

9 years ago today, a strange force in that art gallery trapped me. I feel that I must face my memory and return. I am now 18, an adult. I should not be running away from the things that scare me, instead I should be standing my ground.

As I approached the building I saw a strange looking man sitting on the steps leading up to the art gallery. He was holding a single red rose. His hair was a grey-purple with dark purple highlights. He wore a long black coat with a fluffy fur lining around the edge of the hood. It took me a moment, but it hit me suddenly. This man was the one I had dreamed of every day. This man was Garry. As he looked up at me, his eyes widened. I quickened my pace, and he stood up and began to walk towards me too. Before I knew it I was running to him with tears starting to fall from my eyes. The moment we reached each other he pulled me into a firm hug, and held me there for a long time. Now reunited, we could enter the gallery that had haunted us so long ago. Our fingers intertwined as we walked through the entrance with confidence and without fear.