I was walking through the park, my eyes taking in the fallen autumn leaves, the brilliant colors of red, orange and yellow, resonating off the contrasting grass. I stopped, and just stood on the deserted pavement, watching. Waiting for something that I knew would never appear, yet I didn’t know what. It’s like my mind went blank when I first stepped on the pavement. I couldn’t remember what I was doing or where I was going. It was like when you try to remember your favorite actor’s name, but it won’t seem to surface, turning foggy, just out of reach.
I stood there, taking in everything. The vibrant leaves, the barren trees, the lifeless pavement. Everything just seemed so real, yet I couldn’t remember what it was from. I started walking again, pursuing my way toward something. Anything. But nobody was there. No people walking their dogs, no couples out for a stroll, no parents walking with their children as they giggled and played. It wasn’t right, it was… wrong. Everything was so lifeless, so still.
I walked on and on until, suddenly, I saw something on the edge of my vision. Something small and blurry. It could just be an image of my imagination, or a mistaken tree in the harsh light, but somehow, I didn’t think so. I started to run toward it, clinging on to the hope that there is someone else out there, someone as lost and lonely as I was. As I got closer, I could make out the distinct shape of a human. Testing my theory I yelled, but I received no answer. Instead the figure moved away, back to where it was every time I got too close. Frustrated, I ran faster, only to find my actions futile. Soon I was running slowly, like I was trapped in molasses, my body refusing to move any faster than a walk. I was running in place.
I was so close to the person now I could almost see his face, the distinguishing, recognizable feature of the human physique. Something inside me opened up. An irresistible desire to find this person’s true identity, to find out why he was there. I reached out, my feet no longing obeying my wishes to move, hoping to touch the person I so longed to see. The desire was so strong, it overwhelmed me. The need to find out who this person was filled my very being and made me try harder, reaching as far as my fingers would stretch.
He turned toward me, my heart lurching for an unknown reason. He moves closer to me, able to make out his silhouette. His face was blurry and dark, like he was out of focus on the edge of my vision. He turned toward me and I could just make out the faint twitch of a smile on his shadowed face. He stared at me for a while, his mouth moving, but no audible sound came out.
“What?” I asked, frustrated and sad that I couldn’t understand him, “What are you trying to tell me?”
He simply stopped talking and turned away from me, slowly walking away like he was disappointed in me for not understanding him.
“Wait!” I yelled, hoping to find out more about him, “I don’t even know your name!” I watched him fade into the distance, my hand still outstretched toward his retreating back. As my vision blurred and the scenery broke up, I heard only two words before darkness consumed me,
I’m sorry.

My alarm clock went off waking me up from my fitful night of sleep. Reflecting on the dream I just had, I couldn’t help but think of all the times I had that same dream, the same park, the same feeling of the unknown, of loss and mystery, the same boy I couldn’t reach no matter how hard I tried. I sat up, my head pounding with the same two words, repeating it over and over again. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what?
I got out of bed and walked around my room, getting ready to start the day. Putting on an old pair of overalls and work boots, I grabbed a bucket and headed out to the chicken coop. The great thing about working on a farm is that you always had something to do, even at six in the morning. As I neared the chicken coop, I could hear my father leaving, heading toward the stables. Carrying a shovel he passed me muttering a quick good morning. I opened the coop door, walking into the onslaught of chicken and bedding smell. Soothing the nervous, chatty chickens, I gingerly picked up their abandoned eggs and placed them in the bucket. Having finally filled it up with eggs of all sizes and colors, I headed out the door into the newly risen sunlight.
I walked back to the house, ready to drop off the eggs and head back out once more. The moment I opened my front door, I knew something was wrong. I could just feel it. And the clumsy clanking in the kitchen confirmed my suspicions. My dad was out working and my mom was still asleep, so who was in my house? Cautiously walking into the next room, I put down my basket of eggs and swapped it for an antique candlestick lying on the side table, holding it firmly in my hands.
Walking to the kitchen door I kicked it open, brandishing my homemade weapon high. Startled by my abrupt entrance, the intruder quickly turned around and looked at me with his best deer-in-the-headlights expression. The effect was a little less dramatic when I saw my own leftover chocolate cake smeared all over his face.
“Who are you and what are you doing in my house?” I asked forcefully.
He simply stared back at me, unable to speak due to shock and partly because his mouth was stuffed with cake.
“Well?” I asked again, “Why are you breaking into my house and eating my food?”
Visibly swallowing, he looked at me and shrugged, “I’m hungry?”
“Yeah right,” I said, “Somebody doesn’t break into a house just to eat some cake unless you are seriously desperate.”
“Well, I do. But I’m not desperate.”
“Just tell me why you’re here!” I almost shouted, raising my candlestick higher.
Dropping the rest of his cake, he raised his hands in surrender, “Okay, okay” he said quickly, “The real reason is,” he looked down in embarrassment, “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Woah, what? This totally changed the whole intruder, break in situation. Deep down I was secretly glad he was concerned for me, but then on the other hand, I was scared. He must know me to be concerned for me, but how? And why don’t I remember? Forgotten our present situation, I laughed, “Excuse me? You wanted to make sure I was okay? Have we met?”
The look he gave me was so heart wrenching I almost felt bad for the guy. It was like he actually believed that we did meet before. Not remembering just caused him more pain. But we never met right? I was pretty sure I never met the guy and even if I did, I am pretty sure I would remember a face that cute.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to barge in and frighten you like this.” He apologized, “I’ll be leaving now.”
“Wait,” I said, that phrase running around my brain, “What did you say?”
He turned around and looked at me, puzzled. “Say what?”
“I’m sorry. Say ‘I’m sorry’ again.” I said dazed.
“I’m sorry.” He said slowly.
That phrase. It was the same phrase I heard in my dreams. The same phrase, the same voice. Is this why he thought I knew him? Because he was in my dreams night after night? Plaguing me with the same two words, over and over? I have the same dream for weeks and all of a sudden the guy in my dreams (literally) pops up in my house at seven in the morning and says he knows me and just checking in on me? It was all too weird.
Coming out of my daze, I lowered my candlestick, “Who are you?” I asked suspiciously.
“Just a friend.”
“And why would a friend be breaking into my house and stealing my cake that I made specifically for myself?”
This time he smiled and I couldn’t help wonder if he had a girlfriend or not, “You made this?” he examined the rest of the cake on the counter, “It’s quite delicious.”
“Flattery won’t get you anywhere.” I stated and raising my candlestick again, determined not to blush. Unfortunately it didn’t work. I quickly started talking again when I felt my face getting hot, “All I want to know is why you are here, and why are you in my dreams?”
“Dreams? You’re having dreams about me?” He asked concerned, but then what I said dawned on him. “You’re having dreams… about me.” He smiled wickedly at me. “Are they any good?”
“Oh shut up.” I could feel my face cooking. “What are you doing here anyway?” I asked, “If you’re a friend, as you say, why are you breaking into my house?”
He held up a finger, “I didn’t break in. Your door was unlocked.”
“Whatever, you know what I mean.”
Reaching for another piece of cake he said, “Just checking in on you. You know, making sure you haven’t broken any bones, contacted any deadly illnesses,” he paused and mumbled, “been captured by aliens.”
“What?” I asked, disbelieving, “Captured by aliens? You’re kidding right?”
He only shrugged, unable to talk with so much cake shoved into his mouth.
“You keep dodging my questions. Have we met before or not? Cause you sure seem like you know me. Coming in here and stealing my cake and spewing nonsense about aliens.”
He paused and contemplated my question, which would have looked cute had it not been for his giant cow mouth moving back and forth. “Hmm, yes and no.” he shrugged again, “It’s a long story.”
“Okay you know what, just leave. You should go before my dad finds you in here and shoots you. And before you give me a headache and I’ll shoot you myself.” I advanced toward him, shoving him toward the door.
He turned around and asked me, “You’re kidding right?” I only glared at him, “Okay, you’re not.” I pushed him through the door and shut it, but not before he yelled “It was nice to see you again Angie!”
I also decided to lock it.
I headed back into the kitchen and placed the candlestick in its rightful place. If that intruder wouldn’t have been so relaxed, I would have smashed that candlestick over his head. But the thing was, he didn’t feel like an intruder. It felt like I already knew him somehow, which was crazy because I had never seen him before in my life. A face that beautiful I would have recognized, that I‘m sure of. And what was that thing about aliens? Come to think of it, I also didn’t get his name. I simply shook my head and walked back outside to finish my chores for the day.
One day I’ll figure out who he was.