Moments We're Given

All she had to do was call my name. All I had to do was turn around. Neither of these things happened. So now, twenty-one years later, I stand here in front of a casket wondering what could have been.

The attendance was small, her few friends and myself. They spared opinionated glances in my direction but never said a word to me. While I chose to live alone, she died alone. When the final person left I stood there, absorbed in thought, I never heard her until a voice whispered in my ear.

”Hello John.”

Spinning around I see a teenage girl staring at me with the most amazing emerald eyes. There is a familiarity when I look upon her. Perhaps it is the honesty within those beautiful orbs that made me trust her.

“I can help you.”

Stepping back so she could see my six-thousand-dollar Brooks Brothers Custom suit, I sarcastically say. "Does it look like I need help?"

Unimpressed she replies. "Yes, you very much look like you do."

"How so?"

"I have been given the ability to transport you back to one moment in your life that you regret. If you so choose. "

Before I react, her hand touches my face, suddenly a memory flashes to a night, when my life changed. My heart pounds, while breathing comes in sporadic gasps. Glancing at the coffin and I realize all those years wasted, when all we needed was one conversation.

”We missed our moment."

Smiling once more, her green eyes cast reflections of hope. Showing me a vial, with a dark swirling liquid. "Drink this, and ...."

"I'm not drinking that, for all I know you are trying to poison me."

Her laughter is like a shot of espresso, waking my senses and releasing the inhibition that binds me. I cannot explain it, but my soul feels free.

Softly she replies. "John, I'm giving you an opportunity to correct a mistake. Are you willing to take it?

Touching the casket, I wondered how two people who loved each other, could permanently drift away because of foolish pride. Reaching for the vial, she stops my hand and warns.

“John, you have only five minutes to change your history, you cannot return to this time.”

Without hesitation I swallow the dark drink. Instantly the room spins, I’m caught in a memory tornado, taking me back, the years retreat like leaves caught in the wind.

Until the world stops. I am back, standing on a cobblestone road still damp from an afternoon rain. The very street where I walked away. The fight we had mere moments ago still echo in my head, hurtful words said in anger. Both to stubborn to say ‘sorry.’

I have the chance to make it right, but my legs refuse to turn around. The world becomes silent as a fog, my time for redemption is running out. I am being pulled, forced to continue my life without her. To relive the same fate.

In the distance, a pleading cry echoes down the street. "Johnny, I'm sorry. Please...please come home."

The cobblestones blur, fading out of this reality.

‘All she had to do was call…’

"Johnny, please...."

She called.

‘All I had to do was turn around…’

Glancing back, I see her silhouetted in the doorway of our home, tears pour down my face. My feet move, soon they are running until I’m standing before her, yet I cannot find my voice. Her eyes are red from weeping, but there is a smile upon her angelic face. Suddenly I find myself wrapped in the same arms that have always loved me, the same ones that sheltered me from demons at night. These same arms that embraced me as a child, hold me once more.

I hug her and cry. "I'm sorry mom... I didn't mean..."

"Hush, Johnny. It's okay, it will all be okay."

I dreamt of this moment since the night I left. Back then the stubborn nature of a fifteen-year-old boy wouldn’t let me turn around.

The future I had dissolves. Already memories fade away as this new reality takes hold. Before that other life disappears entirely, my eyes fall upon a photo on the wall. A picture of my mother when she was a teenage girl.

The same green-eyed girl who offered me a gift.

“I’m not going any where mom.”

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This is written for: L.C. Schäfer's One Dollar Challenge - Quote Me Baby (Espresso Edition)