Some Other Place, Some Other Time

Prologue

The plane came to a standstill. I watched as the pilot moved down the aisle towards me and then whispered something in my ear. I walk down the stairs of the now-delayed plane. I noticed him standing in the center of the landing strip, his body little in my sight. I took a deep breath and walked down the stairs, attempting to control my breathing, until I came to a halt two feet away from him.

I merely stared at him, my face emotionless, but I knew my eyes conveyed what my face couldn't. The silence was louder than ever.

"Larissa," he began, his words carefully chosen. "Just pay attention and listen to me."

I remained silent, my deep breaths flooded me with oxygen-the only thing that calmed me and stopped me from reverting back. His emerald eyes, which I have often smiled at, are examining me, waiting for me to nod, waiting for me to forgive him. I gazed up at the clouds, which threatened to downpour at any minute. They appeared heavy, as though bearing an unbearable weight.

"What do you have to say that is worth hearing?" I mumbled, just above a whisper, but I know he heard me.

"Larissa, that was a set up-" He stumbled when I raised my hand.

"Blake, I don't care," I said flatly, my throat closing up on me. I close my eyes and stare up at the nothingness in the dark grey clouds. I was exhausted. It's been much too long. This is not how I want to live.

"Please, Larissa," he begged, his voice strained.

I took a big breath. I glance up into the gloomy grey sky once more, closing my eyes to try to distract myself. This time, the tears that I had been keeping back for far too long quietly trickled down the corner of my eyes. The rain then begins to fall steadily. The pavement, the grass, the trees, Blake, and myself. The clouds couldn't take much more disappointment and sadness...

He grabbed for my hand as I turned to go. A simple gesture that bridged the gap between us in a single stride. I cup my palm over my lips to conceal my sniffles of dread and sorrow. I'm freezing and chilly. The hot, humid summer weather is doing little to keep this chill from entering my body.

"Larissa," he says, taking both of my arms in his warm grip. I keep my eyes closed because I'm terrified to look into his. "Don't you remember how we met?" he asks softly, his voice shaking.

I wanted to say no-I was going to say no. I couldn't recall anything. I'll never recall. I tell myself this.

But the fact was that I remembered.