That was our last selfie as friends. The one on the right, Margaret, she died a few weeks after in a horrible accident involving her cheer squad. Someone had broken in and slaughtered all of them during practice. It was brutal but no one ever found the culprit, they had disconnected the camera before.
The one on the left, Illiana, our friendship didn’t end horribly but her family moved to another country a month after. I missed her a lot. That left me alone in the class. I was left with all the responsibility since the teacher could was busy with other things. Despite losing my two friends it was a fairly happy year. It was my senior year.
Fast forward decade and I actually ran into Illiana again. She told me stories of all the adventures her and her parents went on. They visited Paris, Rome, Beijing, and Barcelona. She told me how she learned the rare art of bear fighting and fought off a massive grizzly up in Russia. Her fantastical stories awed me.
We got together for coffee after that just to catch up more. I didn’t have as much to say as she did, how could I? My life was under rock, or rather behind a desk only imagining what it’d be like to visit those places. I could only tell her how I had lost a few other friends and that in our class senior year that was the last year of the course.
I enjoyed listening to her stories. I remember this one oh so distinctly. She toured the pyramids of Giza and her father accidently uncovered a secret passage. She told me they had to keep it hush hush because they were sure who it was.
She told me stories of how she met her husband. I couldn’t help but laugh. She had gone to stonehenge, her first solo adventure. She accidently tripped and fell through one of the archways and into this lingering guys arms. She told me she couldn’t help but go, “Sorry, I’m falling for you.” She said they had been together since. Her parents loved him.
I definitely envied her job. I mean who wouldn’t? She worked for National Geographic and travelled for a living. I could only manage a measly job as an assistant at some corp. Her job took her on some many adventures. One she said took her to the Paris catacombs where she sweared up and down one of the skeletons grabbed her leg. She told me she was never going down there again. I laughed.
We started hanging out again and it was a lot of fun. Everything seemed to be going right for once. But then she vanished again, and this time I had no idea where. She didn’t leave a note of letter, or anything to help me figure out where.
I didn’t really try looking for her. I didn’t have the resources to. I barely had the money to keep a roof over my head.
So time went by. Weeks, months, years even, and I didn’t hear anything from her. After a bit I finally caved and I looked up her parents. They were living a little miles west of where she had grown up. I decided to pay them a visit.
To say they were surprised was an understatement. They were excited to see me and welcomed me in for cake and tea. I was surprised they remembered me, it had been so long. And finally after a few hours of catching up they finally asked why I was there. I explained and as I did I saw their faces pale, I couldn’t figure out why.
“You never heard?” They asked me softly. I stared at them puzzled.
“The reason Illiana never returned to school was because she passed away. Of cancer,” they said gently.
“That’s not possible? I saw her only two years ago, she told me all these adventures you went on?”
“I’m sorry, but she’s been gone for nearly 13 years. I’m sorry,” they told me. “I think it is time you leave.”
Then they simply guided me from their home. My drive home was lost in thought. I was still just so baffled that she was dead. I got home and got ready for bed. I laid there for hours staring at the ceiling trying to think of an explanation. And finally it appeared. Literally.
“Those are my dreams. I never got to complete mine but you should complete yours.”
Illiana stood over me at the side of my bed. She looked so alive, so much like herself. So inspiring.
I got up and went over to my laptop and plugged it in. I hadn’t used it in so long I wasn’t sure it would work. But as a miracle it turned on. I sat down and began typing . Began writing the story of a girl who had outrages dreams and though she didn’t complete them in life, they carried her through her death.
