The Forgotten Friend

Jake stared out of the window, watching the rain pour down on the street. The weekend was supposed to be fun, but with the weather like this, it seemed all his plans were washed away. He sighed and turned back to his phone, scrolling through the same apps, hoping for something interesting to pop up.

His phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number lit up the screen: "Hey, Jake! Long time no see. Want to meet up? It's Ben, your old friend from school."

Jake frowned. Ben? He didn’t remember any Ben. He had some friends in elementary school, but none named Ben. Still, something tugged at the back of his mind, like a memory he couldn’t quite reach. His curiosity got the better of him, and he replied, "Ben? Sorry, I don't remember. When did we meet?"

The response came quickly: "Come on, you have to remember! We used to hang out at the old park near Pine Street. We even built that treehouse together! Let's meet there later, around 5 PM."

Jake scratched his head, thinking hard. A treehouse at Pine Street? It vaguely sounded familiar, but it didn’t feel right. Why couldn’t he remember something like that? He decided to text his best friend, Alex, just to see if he knew anything.

"Hey, do you remember a guy named Ben from our childhood?" Jake typed.

Alex's response was immediate: "Who? I don’t think we knew any Ben. Why?"

Now Jake was even more confused. But the mention of the treehouse pulled at his curiosity. He had nothing better to do, and the rain was starting to let up. It wouldn’t hurt to check it out, right? Maybe it would jog his memory.

At 5 PM, Jake found himself walking toward Pine Street. The park there was old and run-down, mostly forgotten by the neighborhood kids. When he arrived, he spotted the remnants of a treehouse high up in one of the larger oak trees. It was weathered and broken in places, but still standing. His heart gave a strange lurch. Had he really built that?

Standing beneath the tree was a boy his age, grinning at him. He looked oddly familiar, like someone out of an old photo, but Jake couldn’t place him. The boy had short brown hair, pale skin, and wore a faded T-shirt and jeans, like he’d stepped straight out of the past.

“Jake! You made it!” the boy shouted, waving him over.

“Ben?” Jake asked, still uncertain.

“Yeah, it’s me! Wow, you really don’t remember, huh?” Ben’s grin faded slightly. “We used to be best friends. Every summer, we’d play in this park. The treehouse was our secret hideout. No one else knew about it.”

Jake felt a cold shiver run down his spine. The more Ben talked, the more he felt like something was wrong. Why couldn’t he remember any of this? And why did Ben seem so real, yet so... distant, like a shadow of a memory?

“Sorry, man,” Jake said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t remember any of that. I feel like I should, but I just can’t.”

Ben’s smile faded completely. For a moment, his eyes darkened, and the air around them seemed to grow colder. “That’s okay,” he said softly. “Maybe this place will help you remember.”

He gestured toward the treehouse. “Come on, let’s go up.”

Jake hesitated. Something about the treehouse felt wrong, too. It looked like it had been abandoned for years, and he didn’t trust the old wood to hold their weight. But Ben had already started climbing the rickety ladder nailed to the trunk.

“Come on!” Ben called from halfway up. “It’s safe. I’ve been up here lots of times.”

Jake took a deep breath and started climbing, even though his gut screamed at him to stop. The wood creaked beneath his weight, but it didn’t break. When he reached the top, Ben was sitting in the small, cramped space of the treehouse, looking out at the park below.

“See? Just like old times,” Ben said, patting the floor beside him.

Jake sat down cautiously, looking around. The inside of the treehouse was filled with old toys and bits of paper, like it hadn’t been touched in years. But what really unsettled him was a picture taped to one of the walls. It was a photograph of two young boys—one of them was definitely Jake. The other was Ben.

“How…?” Jake started, feeling a sudden wave of dizziness. “I don’t remember this.”

Ben’s expression turned strange, almost sad. “You don’t remember a lot of things, Jake. We used to be best friends. But then you forgot me. You moved away, and I... I stayed here.”

The hairs on the back of Jake’s neck stood up. There was something in Ben’s voice, something hollow, like an echo. “What do you mean I forgot you? I would’ve remembered if we were best friends.”

“You didn’t mean to forget,” Ben said quietly, turning to face Jake. His eyes seemed darker now, more shadowed. “But you did. And when you forgot me, I started to fade. The more you forgot, the less real I became.”

Jake’s heart pounded in his chest. “What are you talking about? That doesn’t make any sense.”

Ben’s smile returned, but this time it looked wrong—twisted. “I’m not real anymore, Jake. I’m just a memory. A forgotten friend. But I’ve been waiting for you. I’ve been waiting for you to remember.”

Jake scrambled to his feet, his breath coming in short gasps. The treehouse felt like it was closing in on him, the walls shifting and creaking. “I-I have to go.”

But Ben stood up too, blocking the exit. His face had changed, no longer boyish and friendly. His skin was pale, almost gray, and his eyes were dark pits. “You can’t leave, Jake. You’re the only one who remembers me. If you leave… I’ll disappear.”

Jake’s heart raced as panic set in. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be happening.

“Move!” Jake shouted, shoving past Ben and scrambling down the ladder as fast as he could. He could hear Ben’s voice behind him, growing fainter with each step.

“You can’t leave, Jake! You can’t forget me again!”

Jake hit the ground running, not looking back. His breath came in ragged bursts as he sprinted toward home, his mind reeling. Who—or what—was Ben? And why had he forgotten him?

When Jake finally reached his house, he slammed the door shut behind him, his heart pounding in his ears. He collapsed against the wall, trying to catch his breath. His phone buzzed again.

A message from that same unknown number: "Don’t forget me, Jake."

Jake stared at the screen, his hands shaking. He didn’t respond. He couldn’t.

That night, Jake lay awake in bed, unable to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Ben’s face—smiling, but wrong. The memories that had been locked away for so long were now leaking back, but they didn’t feel like his own. They felt distant, like they belonged to someone else.

And yet, he couldn’t shake the feeling that somewhere, in that old park, Ben was still waiting for him, a forgotten friend who should never have existed.

Jake didn’t go back to Pine Street. But he knew, deep down, that Ben wasn’t really gone. He was just waiting. Waiting to be remembered.

Disclaimer: This story has been generated by an AI. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locations is purely coincidental. The content is for entertainment purposes only and does not reflect any real-world situations or entities.