Annaka

Mom took me away from Yarmouth. I hated how she never wanted to come visit. I hated how I was always an afterthought in her story. I never got to see Grampy or Nan before everything changed. I had so much deep-rooted anger towards her because of it. The only family I ever had was either gone or was slipping away. I thought about the what ifs, and what life could have been like if I had stayed—I could have spent more time with Grampy, I could have made more memories with Nan. I remember asking Mom when we might return, and it was the same old script:
“This summer isn’t likely,” she would say after I asked eagerly.
“You say that every summer,” I’d reply, annoyed.
“I promise, we will visit soon.”
But we never did. And that was the hardest part about being back now—everything that ever meant anything to me was gone. I dropped the journal on the ground, tears landing beside it.
My life could have been totally different. I could have had a family—more than just me and Mom. I could have even met my dad. As it was, the only father figure I ever had known was going to be buried in the morning.
I reached for the journal, but before I could touch it, I heard rustling from the other side of the room. It startled me so bad that I stumbled back, landing on the floor.
“Who’s there?” I called out.
There was no reply.
It was probably a raccoon, and those things were terrifying—my absolute least favourite animal. When I reached for the journal again, I noticed its spine was damaged. Once I touched it I felt resistance, like someone was pulling it.
“What the hell?” I was beginning to scare myself. I got to my feet and pulled, but was met with an equal amount of resistance. Then suddenly, I was pulled so hard I fell forward onto the ground.
The journal hit the floor too. I scrambled to grab it, only to see it had fallen open to a page with a drawing of Clay and me sitting on the front porch of the house. The last journal entry I wrote before we left. God, that had been such a bittersweet day; bitter to be leaving, but with sweet thoughts of coming back.
I looked up to see who was there, but everything was gone. I found myself surrounded by a pitch-black darkness. The walls, the floor below me, the ceiling, they were all gone. Only the journal was lying in front of me.
“What the hell is going on?!” I looked around in a panic.
The darkness formed into new shapes around me. My surroundings shifted, transformed, and faded into existence. Suddenly, I felt the rocky path outside of my grandparents’ house beneath my knees, and the smell of warm summer air touch my face; crickets chirped in the distance, and I watched as wet grass started to sprout around me.
How was this happening?
Then I heard a voice that made me freeze. Someone from my past. An innocent, shy, playful voice.
“How long are you going to be gone?”
It was…Clay.
My heart sank to my stomach. I looked down the path that formed beneath me and could see the two of us sitting on the porch of my grandparents’ house. Clay was wearing one of my old T-shirts—we used to share clothes—and I wore a dress that Nan had given me for my birthday one year. I was only a kid.
“Not forever, silly,” I heard my younger voice answer. “We’ll be back soon. But I want you to stay here; it’s safer. The city can be a scary place.” I heard my own voice echo in my ears.
“I don’t wanna stay. I wanna go with you. I don’t wanna be alone.” His plead echoed too. This was the morning I told Clay Mom and I were leaving.
“I know, Clay,” I soothed. “But Mom said we’ll be back before you know it. She said the apartment we’re moving into could be small. I don’t know if you’d be comfortable there.”
I was the only one he ever wanted to reveal himself to. He was afraid bad things would happen if he showed himself to Grampy or Nan. And maybe he was right. But I knew if I brought him along, there would be a greater chance of him being seen.
“You promise you’ll be back soon?” he asked with teary brown eyes.
“I do.” I raised a pinky finger, and he wrapped his grey one around mine, followed by a hug. That was the last memory I had with Clay before we left….
I sat there with those bottled feelings as everything around me disappeared again. I closed my eyes, placing my head in my hands.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the attic like nothing had happened. I touched the wooden floor to make sure it was real.
“Okay, okay,” I said aloud. “What the hell was that? What just happened here?!”
“I really didn’t expect to see you today.”
I heard that voice again, and it caused a shiver to go down my spine. His voice wasn’t as playful, shy, or innocent. It was deeper, more mature, and…sad. I looked up to see a familiar face. It was still soft and grey, but older.
“What the hell.” I moved back and couldn’t say anything. My heart began pumping. Why was he still there?
“Cl-Clay?”
“You remember me,” he said with a surprised, but not happy, face.
He was so much bigger than the last time I had seen him. He was wearing a light brown V-neck that was a bit baggy on him, and black dress pants where the legs touched the ground before his feet. Were those my grandfather’s clothes?
“You have something that’s mine,” he said as he picked up the journal. And then, just like that, he vanished, along with it.
“What the hell?!” I ran down the steps as fast as I could and crashed into Mom.
“Anna, what happened?” Mom asked me groggily. “What’s going on up there? It’s