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Rated: · Short Story · Fantasy · #1511767
What person doesn't wish they could go back in time and change something?
Time Enough At Last
I was fumbling through my desk when I found an old cassette tape with a clock drawn on one side. Hoping to find some good music, I popped it in my stereo.

A stern, mechanical voice admonished, "Day, month, and year please."

I pondered a moment, "OK. June 26, 1985."

In a brief, blinding flash I found myself sitting at a large, round table surrounded by my oldest friends. A guitar-shaped cake sat at the center, reading, "Happy Birthday Nicole." That's me, I thought. I got a guitar-shaped cake on my tenth birthday.

I looked across the room and swore it was a dream, because I was looking eye to eye at Danny Martin. When I was ten, Danny was my best friend. Eight years later, he was to be killed with a gun in such a way that no one knew if was an accident, or suicide. We were great friends as children, but as we got older, our friendship faded. If only I knew he was that troubled. If only I knew.

"Blow out those candles so we can eat!" he said mock-indignantly. I gave him a smirk and started blowing.

Almost two hours later, the party dwindled. Danny and I were soon the only ones left. We were perched atop the swing set watching the sun go down.

"Do you want to play Star Wars?" Danny asked.

"I don't think so," I muttered softly. I could barely remember the details of our fantasy/adventure games. In that moment, I saw my chance to make a difference.

"Danny?"

"Yeah"

"Do you ever think about the future; about what you're gonna be when you grow up?"

"I don't want to grow up," he said with a trace of humor. "I'm going to move to Never Never land and become a lost boy."

I laughed nervously, "Are you ever serious for two seconds at a time?"

He sighed and thought a moment, "I guess I'll just grow up, and figure out the rest as I go along."

I thought for a moment as well. What could I give to him that he would take with him eight years later?

"Have you ever kissed a girl?" I piped up, hoping it didn't seem like too stupid a suggestion. But then again, why would it be?

Danny smiled, "What is this, twenty questions?"

"Just answer the question smarty," I answered, trying to hide my sadness with a healthy dose of humor.

"No I have never kissed a girl. Why, are you volunteering?"

"Maybe," I shrugged, daring him to do it.

Before I could make any kind of response, good or otherwise, he drew me close and gave me a quick 10-year-old kiss. When he stopped, there was a dead silence.

"Well, say something."

He looked me straight in the eye, "I can't."

"Well at least promise me something," I said with a faint urgency.

"What's that."

I looked up at him, "Promise me that we'll always be friends."

Danny looked at me and smiled, "I swear by all that is fun that I'll always be your friend."

Eighteen once again, I scrambled for my old address book to see what the present holds, remembering that I had scratched Danny's name out when he died. Not only was his name not crossed out, but several hearts were drawn around it along with the phrase, "Nicole loves Danny."
© Copyright 2009 Renata Wolfe (neurotic_poet at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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