Annaka

below me I felt ice. I quickly caught my balance and realized that we were outside of my grandparents’ house on the lake.
In the distance, I could see myself, looking a bit older than the last memory. I had skates on, and beside me sat a younger version of Clay.
“Lets go!” He pulled me up as he slid backwards holding on to my hand. I could hear us both laughing and it made me feel all warm inside. I loved that memory, even though I didn’t share it with anyone else.
Then darkness surrounded us again; the frozen lake transformed into my grandparents’ kitchen, and this time it was night.
“Are you sure your nan hid the candy in here?” I could see a younger Clay standing by the sink.
“I’m sure of it!” I heard myself reply as I lifted my head from under the kitchen sink. I was wearing a bright orange cape and a blue domino mask. “Hmm…. Up there! I can see them!”
A jar of mini chocolate bars was sitting on top of the fridge.
I looked around and noticed that the tablecloths and napkins everywhere in the kitchen were orange and black. Close to Halloween. I grinned because I remembered this. Clay had been hungry and I told him I knew where Nan kept the Halloween candy. We weren’t going to take all of it, but I remember right around then I….
“Oh no!” I heard my voice followed by a hard smash. A pile of dishes fell down and smashed into pieces—Clay had tried climbing the counter beside the fridge.
“What’s going on in there?” I heard Nan’s voice rush in. “Annaka, what are you doing?!”
I remembered I had been so scared she would see Clay. I watched my young self turn to look for Clay and saw my own jaw drop because he was nowhere in sight.
“Annaka,” Nan said, demanding my attention. “Did you drop those dishes?”
“No.”
Her eyes bored into mine. “Tell the truth, now.”
I was telling the truth, but I knew I had to lie for Clay’s sake. So I ended up telling Nan, “Yes, ma’am.” I was still not completely sure where he had gone.
“What were you doing?” Nan asked, putting her hands on her hips.
“I was…I was trying to get the candy on top of the fridge.” I could see my defeated face.
I remember being sent to my room for the rest of the night, and that’s when Clay reappeared. I learned two things that evening: that Clay could turn invisible, and that he still owed me one from all those years ago.
“You still owe me for that,” I teased, turning my head towards him and hoping for a playful reply.
“I don’t owe you anything,” he shot back.
Everything went dark again. This time it stayed dark. Longer than it did before. Clay was nowhere to be seen, or heard. “Clay? You still there, buddy? Are you going to leave me trapped in this place forever?”
He didn’t reply.
“Clay, where are you?”
Silence.
But then I heard weeping, followed by Clay’s small voice echoing in my eardrums: “How long are you going to be gone?”
He was replaying that one again. I knew what he was trying to do.
“Not forever, silly,” I heard my voice answer. “We’ll be back soon. I want you to stay here—it’s safer. The city can be a scary place.”
“But I don’t wanna stay. I wanna go with you. I don’t wanna be alone.”
The darkness formed into the front porch, and a younger version of Clay and I appeared on it.
“Do we really have to do—” I tried to say over the scene he was creating. But I was cut off by my own voice.
“I know, Clay. But we’ll be back before you know it. Mom said the apartment we’re moving into in Halifax could be small. I don’t know if you’d be comfortable.”
I could see his look of devastation again. It didn’t hurt any less seeing it a second time.
“You promise you’ll be back soon?” he asked with teary eyes.
“I do.” I saw my younger self raise a pinky finger.
Everything faded away into darkness again, only to reemerge with Clay sitting on the doorstep beneath the night sky. He was looking towards the road, waiting. For what I could only assume to be me. That sight faded away to a fall afternoon where leaves were scattered on the ground. Clay just sat there looking towards the road, waiting for the promise I’d never keep. Then I felt a rush of cold air again as the fall faded and snow formed all around me. There he was: still in the same spot. Waiting. It didn’t matter what season, he expected me to keep my promise.
“I know what you’re trying to do,” I said to him now. “I get it. I’m a bad friend.”
The seasons began changing faster, but he sat in the same spot, growing older and older and older and older.
“Clay, stop,” I tried to say, only to be cut off by my own voice: “We’ll be back before you know it.” It hurt even more hearing it again. Then that line repeated again, and again, and again. I tried to take a breath but that didn’t stop my heart from being overflowed with guilt until I finally screamed, “Stop!”
And everything did.
There was no sound or sight. Clay left me in the darkness and I felt just as alone as he must have.
Shortly, light broke through the darkness and the real world formed around me. I was sitting on the bed of my grandfather’s truck again. Clay had waited for me all that time—and I’d rarely ever thought about him. I curled into myself, not wanting to move.
We didn’t say anything for a bit. It was awkward but we were there, in it the middle of it. And I finally understood how it worked. Clay spent most of his time reliving those memories, or spending time in that dark place.
God, I wished things hadn’t turned out the way they did.
Clay finally spoke. “I know you’re back,