A Friend to be Missed - 1. Amusement Park

The black seat is warm and hard. It would seat four adults, but there are only three of us. The safety bar closes over our bellies, and Mo's tanned sinewy arms to my right tense; Bastien to my left just sits there.

A signal sounds, then the roller coaster car jerks forward. We're sitting right at the front, so I can see the abyss into which we're tipping, but nothing more than a soft gasp as the steep drop presses me into the backrest escapes me, while behind us the other passengers shriek with joy and excitement.

They probably think we're goths or emos or something, in our black clothes and with expressionless faces. But we are in mourning. In our very own way.

When the wagon comes to a halt, we get out, letting ourselves be carried along by the crowd, until we stand in one of the amusement park's squares, surrounded by food stalls. That was the last roller coaster in the park and we can leave, our purpose is fulfilled.

Sixteen years ago we were here for the first time, four of us, and when I think of it, first I get a stomach ache at the memory of all the laughter, then I feel sick because of all the food, then I get cold. Because Julian disappeared.

His mother still claims it was the werewolves living in the woods around the amusement park. But no pack has been sighted around here for decades, and they certainly wouldn't have left his bloody clothes behind.

Either way- since then, we've come back every year on this exact day, riding the roller coasters, eating, thinking of Julian. And because we were teenagers then, innocent sixteen year olds, we take the train, just like all the other teenagers.

The way back to the station is not long. There would be a shuttle bus, but we ignore it. We use the time to come down from all the noise, the happiness around us, the weight of the grief and the uncertainty that hits us once a year.

We hadn't even left the park yet, we were still in the middle of it, and Julian wanted to get something to drink while Bastien and I had to pee. And then Julian was gone. His phone off.

I push the thoughts and memories aside, trotting down the street between Bastien and Mo. I don't know the last time we said a word, these days we somehow manage to communicate without words, and my throat feels scratchy.

Bastien next to me kicks a stone and stops all of a sudden.

Mo makes a questioning sound while I lift my gaze and gasp.

There, a little way down a narrow side street, between the trees at the side of the road, stands Julian. He looks the same as always. Small and slender, his brown chin-length curls tousled by the wind. Except he's wearing dirty jeans and a torn leather jacket, and his eyes... are not chocolate brown, but shine in an eerie amber gold tone.

I don't know how long we stand there staring at each other, speechless, stunned. At some point, however, Julian's lips curve into a small smile.

"Julian." Bastien's voice is barely audible even to me, standing right next to him, but Julian's smile widens and he minimally tilts his head.

"Don't!" Mo's voice is also barely audible, but he's too late. Bastien is already moving toward Julian.

My mouth opens, but nothing more than a gasp comes out, because Mo grabs me by the arm, pulling me away. I stumble, looking up at him. His eyes are wide and under his tan he's pale as hell. I turn around briefly, but Julian and Bastien have disappeared.

We return the next year, just the two of us, and it feels awful. Actually, Mo and I are just waiting for the day to end and leave the park. I've spent the last year with so many question marks in my head that they've displaced even the grief and disbelief.

When we reach the side street, we are both tense. We haven't even talked about what happened last year, apart from a few innocent words to Bastien's family and girlfriend. Because what actually happened? He left to talk to an old friend.

I take a look down the side street, but there's nothing there. Mo makes a strange, somehow displeased sound that confuses me, but when I take a second look, there they are, appearing as if out of nowhere.

Torn jeans, dirty leather jackets.

Julian has blood splatters on his face.

Bastien, who was always a bit chubby, now looks rather stocky. A shiver runs down my spine as his formerly blue, now amber eyes return my gaze.

Julian smiles faintly and it takes on a kind of sad touch as Mo grabs me by the arm.

I still raise my other hand in greeting, a final goodbye, a farewell. I know somehow that we won't come back, even without having to talk about it.

Bastien smiles, too, but broader, as befits his actually sunny nature. His lips slide back, exposing pointed teeth that definitely don't belong to a human, and Mo's grip on my arm tightens.

I nod - to whomever - and turn away. Mo and I walk to the station, and though I feel like I should turn around one last time, I don't.

Sometimes you have to let friends go.