Ava

By Benjamin Wang, aged 16

-1

“Goodbye, Noah.” She said to me the day I left. 

“No more cats in the town,” I mutter. Raindrops slide down my face and dribble through my neck. Rain is not something to be liked, it drenches the shirt. It keeps on raining every single day here, 24-hours non-stop. Cats particularly hate rain. We used to have a cat together. We found it on a day water splashed from the sky. We were running to the subway station, and suddenly, there was this small creature curled up on the ground. The golden fur had been completely washed by the rain, I could see it used to be bright and shining. Then I carried it home. 

I continue walking. I walk slow. I am still going to school, but sometimes it feels like every-single-day I am going to kindergarten for the first time. I know no one there, and no one knows me here. The green walls, whiteboards, and mirrors in the dance room are already fading away. Replacing them are the white walls, white floors, teachers wearing white shirts and trousers. 

“I can send you back.” A voice interrupts me. I look up and see a woman in a white dress. I am sure I don’t know her. 

I ignore her and continue walking. There’s no point in listening to a stranger. The rain suddenly stops. I look up and see the shadow of her umbrella. I stop and turn around: “Who are you?”

“I will give you a ticket to go back, and live one more year there.” She continues, ignoring my questions, “I will give you another identity though.”

I try not to listen, and think, but the words just pin my ears like a nail in wood. I walk past her, but cannot move forward. The words “fly back” hold my feet tight, drag me back towards her. I have to face her, though I can find nothing when looking back into her eyes. The rain continues, drops dripping on my heart saying: “Go back.” And I accept the deal. 

I miss Ava. 

-2

After Noah left, I couldn’t see a change in other people’s lives. 

In February, I walked past his old dwelling for the first time. There rusted metal gates lay on a few bricks, which hinted it would collapse any second. I stood in front of the house and wondered: Is this the only mark he has left after he is gone? It was still early Spring when I passed by: flowers bloomed and lightly craned their heads from the seeds; snow melted into water and hugged the earth; the joy brought by Christmas cooled, and new life was starting. Was he coming back?  

It has been a month already. The only thing that makes a connection between us is “7”, the cat we found together. I give her the name so she remembers him. We used to call Noah “7” just for fun. 

“All I need is him back.” Having not to see your best friend is not easy at all. After those years you spent together. Games we played, work we did, the movies we saw. When I dance, I turn around and wait for the lift, but there’s no-one there for me; When I walk home, the winter has to remind me to put my gloves on, because there’s no-one else. 

“Take him back, and prove to him you are waiting.” I hear a whisper near my ear, and it's 7 looking at me with her green lantern-like orbs. I never knew this creature could speak, or it might be my vision. How can I prove to him I am waiting so much? 

7 looks at me and starts. “I can bring him back for you, but he will have another identity.” She pauses, and continues, “You will have to pretend you don’t know him. Deal?” I can see a face of a bad kid trying to trick someone, even a predator waiting for its prey to fall into a trap, or an audience watching a show, on her golden, furry face. But I agree.

Because I really miss him. 

-3

I came back for half a year. Things have changed a lot. 

I continue with my student career using the name “Seven”. They used to call me 7 for fun. Life doesn’t seem very different here. It is late Spring: you can hear the children running outside, enjoying their now and not thinking about their future. I have to think about my future every nanosecond of my life. Did I miss something?  I sometimes wonder. 

The only one I hope remembers me is her. Her name is Ava. I can proudly announce to the world she is my best friend, and we will always be that. But things change, and you start doubting yourself. Every rainy day back where I should be, I think about my future, and I start to wonder: Will I be able to go back as I promised, or will I just give up my life there and start a new life here? Will she be starting a new life there, or is she still waiting for me? The thoughts bait my heart like worms gorging on a piece of bread. 

I see her here, in the classroom with me. She looks just like usual. Her eyes are shining in class like stars, not the star you see at noon, who shows power and brightness; but stars at night, who give you a spark and lead your way. 

I really like her. I think. 

-4

I don’t know what to say to him. 

It has been 10 months since he came back, and I haven’t said a single word to him. I look at him in class, and I think: How is he not aware of me looking? I have to do something to get him on track, I’ve had a year to do that. “You have to do something, Ava,” I say to myself. 

I step across the classroom and stop in front of him. He looks up from the table. He sees me, and looks surprised. His eyes are half-open, they blink, and are pretty. I start the conversation, though I hate the fact I have to pretend not to know him. 

“Do I know you? Oh, sorry to ask so suddenly. I just think you act like my best friend.” 

His eyes start to blink as my sentences light them up. Then he smiles, looks into my eyes and says: “Tell me about him.”

How can I just tell him that I miss him? I can’t, and he just keeps waiting there. 

“Ding-dang.” The bell rings, I run back to my seat and sit. Like a defendant running away from the court. I write him a letter, saying: Meet me at 6, on 7th street. 

I can’t wait to tell him everything. 

-5

When leaves fall, birds migrate, and the semester ends, I leave. 

I meet her at 6 beside the street where we found the cat. I don’t know if she named the cat or not. She is already there, with a white coat, and that sweater she loves to wear. I am glad to see she is still using the Christmas present I gave her last year. 

She starts: “Hi, Seven, I just wanted to talk to you about a group project.” Her face looks serious like Professor Murgaski in class. 

My smile disappears. I thought she recognized me. I feel the rain falling back on my face, washing it clean, then laughing at me with words: “Things change, and accept it, poor kitty.”

She looks at my face, my face as depressed as a lake on a rainy day. Then she smiles: “Noah. I always knew it was you. I brought you back!”

The words strike me like thunder in the middle of the night, waking up minds. 

We both look at each other for a while, as long as the life of the Milky Way. I see her eyes, they are shining, jumping, dancing. They are waiting for an answer. 

I really miss you. 

I miss you Noah, and please come back after you are free. 

End.

I moved on with my life, just to choose my future with you.