7.
. . .
No.
"Violet!" I screamed in desperation. The banister to which I held on couldn't seem to stand the rushing waters of the stream. Past the crashing waves I could see her reaching out.
"Quigley!" I heard, though barely through the water, her voice quivering.
I can't believe it. I was too preoccupied back then that I forgot that she was that girl...
Yes, it's her. The little inventor who reached her hand out to me to greet me the first time we met. Now I remember.
If only, like before, I could take her hand again…
I wonder, does she remember that day?
My eyes were stinging. "Violet!" I called out again.
No. This shouldn't be happening. I was supposed to be with them until the misfortune could escape them. I was supposed to help them in every way I can.
I was supposed to be with her.
The banister around which my hands were wrapped started cracking, wounding my hands. More water came splashing down the cracked waterfalls, and I could feel everything else brush against my body harshly as the current bore them away toward where I was.
But none of those hurt a single bit...
I held my commonplace book up, so they could see me from the crashing waves. At last, when they spotted me, I took my chances.
"Wait for me!" I shouted.
I couldn't have been more desperate in my life.
"Wait for me at--"
Before long, the banister split.
In a second, there was nothing but cold surrounding me. I closed my eyes, and could hear faint shouting.
"Quigley!"
Faintly, her voice quivered.
"Quigley!"
Faintly,
faintly
.
.
.
Vio...let...---
. . .