Remember

                Her hair was the color of rust, a deep dark orange that rippled down her back. A constellation of freckles dotted her face and shoulders. Her name was Rose, but I liked to call her Ro. She would laugh at me saying that Rose was short enough, no need to shorten it more. All I can remember is the memories we shared and that beautiful face. You see, Rose has been missing for four years now. She disappeared before our high school graduation. Most people think she was kidnapped or had run away. Some even think she was abducted by aliens. That last one is pretty farfetched, but we come from a very small and weird town. Which is why I know Ro ran away, it was too small for her and her free spirit. She would always talk about leaving here and finding an adventure somewhere. Like the wind, Ro wanted to go wherever she wanted and never wanted to be held down. I myself was ready to get out of the small town life and to get away from the memory of Ro. As much as I wanted to see her again, she was like a ghost now. I had other things in my life that I had to think of. I moved to Seattle to become a Journalist.
               

The day I saw Ro standing across the street was the day my life changed in unexpected ways.
She still had her long hair, but it was brighter now almost a strawberry blonde. She was still as beautiful as the last time I had seen her.  I stared at her dumbstruck; I even rubbed my eyes thinking I was seeing things. But there she was, Rose Virginia Harris. She was waiting for the bus, her eyes scanning up and down the street. “ROSE!” I yelled out to her. But she kept looking down the street. “ROSE!” I yelled again, louder this time. Still she couldn’t hear me. “RO BOAT!” I yelled the nickname I used to call her. Her head snapped forward, her eyes locking with mine. I smiled and wanted to so badly to just run across the street and embrace her. But she just stared at me confused. Before I could decide if I wanted to risk my life or not the bus came. She got on it without even looking twice at me. It made me angry and sad and happy all at the same time to know that she was alive and okay. But the odds of running into her made me crazy. I had to find her again and I had to ask her why she left, and why she didn’t take me with her.

                Two days had passed since I’d seen Rose across the street from me. In those two days I had used all the skills I had a journalist to find her. I thought it was going to be easy since I knew she was in the same city as me, but it was the exact opposite. Every lead I had fell through, and the more I tried to figure out about Rose Harris, the less and less I really knew. I had called all my connections asking them if they knew someone by her name or if they knew someone by her description. Nothing came up and it seemed as if she was indeed a ghost that I had conjured up. It was becoming frustrating, and I was about to give up until I went to my favorite bookshop. It was a small little place that you almost wouldn’t be able to find if it was for the simple sign that said ‘BOOKS’ hanging above it. I would go their whenever I was feeling stressed and try to find another copy of Catcher in the Rye. It was my favorite book and I liked to collect old copies of it. One of the characters from the book, Jane Gallagher, kind of reminded me of Ro.   
                I walked in taking a deep breath and inhaling the beautiful scent of musty old books. “Good morning Mike, any copies come in yet?” Mike looked up from his newspaper. “Nope not yet. Hey good article in here by the way.” He complimented me. “Pfft that little old thing? It’s not even good enough to be in there.” I said. I was always my own critic. “Well I’m going to look around anyway.” I said and walked to the back of the store. I always started in the classics section before making a complete circle in the store. That’s when I saw her. Her nose was stuck in another favorite book of mine, To Kill a Mocking Bird. It felt like a couldn’t breathe. I was so close to her, but my feet wouldn’t take me any farther. I stood there awkwardly, hoping that at some point she would look up. But she kept on reading, hooked into the story. “Uh..Hi.” I stammered. She looked up then. “Hi.” She said and then looked back down to her book. “Rose..” I said. She looked up again at me. “Yes? You look kind of familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?” She asked. Before I could answer she spoke again. “Wait! You’re the one who yelled at me from across the street.” She said standing up. “You…you called me something.” She said. She stepped closer to me and once again I was mesmerized by all the freckles that dotted her face.
“Ro, it’s me. You don’t recognize me?” I asked. She squinted her eyes as if it would help her remember.
“Mmmm…sorry I don’t.” Was all she said. It was like a punch to the gut, I felt like I had to throw up.
“It’s me..Zachary.” I told her. Not even a hint of recognition flashed across her face. She was either lying, or had no idea who I was.
“You don’t remember me? How could you not remember me? We…we grew up together. I was your best friend.” I said tears starting to form in my eyes. I turned away trying to get my composure together. I never cry, not in front of anyone or by myself. Rose looked down sadness crossing her face.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have any memory of when I was younger. I have a brain tumor and it’s slowly taking away any memory I have left. I really wish I could remember who you are, but I just can’t.” She said. The words brain tumor rang in my ears.
“Brain Tumor? Oh Ro…I can’t believe it. I’m so sorry.” I said.
“Why do you keep calling me that?” She asked.
“What? Calling you Ro? It’s what I used to call you when we were kids.”
She gave a little laugh before saying, “Well isn’t Rose short enough already?”
And just like that, it was like old times again. We talked and talked and I tried to fill her in on lost memories. I tried to ask her about her disappearance, but even that is a mystery to her. She tells me that the doctors aren’t sure yet if the tumor is life threatening, but they are working on trying to get rid of it. I stare at that beautiful face and make sure that I remember it forever, hoping that I will be able to see it in the future times to come.