of is that bracelet; that stupid bracelet that she wanted to tie to a tree branch while we were walking around before going to catch her flight back to Scotland. For good luck, she had said. I wasn’t serious when I said that it was dumb to be superstitious and that a piece of string couldn’t really make that much of a difference. She gave me a sideways look, stopped untying it from around her wrist, put her hand back in mine and we kept walking. Maybe if I hadn’t said anything and let her tie it to that branch at the first sight of springtime like she was supposed to, her plane wouldn’t have crashed onto the runway at Edinburgh in the rain. She would always complain about how it never stopped raining there. It’s been a week
since I got that phone call from her parents, even though I don’t know how they got my number. But that wasn’t important compared to the knots that were tying up my stomach and my throat closing in on me. I’d walked away from the airport after seeing her off, thinking about our plans to meet up in London in only a few days. We didn’t even bother saying goodbye and it hadn’t felt like one. All I’ve been able to do is walk around to keep myself from staying in one place, because I don’t think I’d be able to get up and move again if I stopped. The sun is out full force now, but I can’t feel it burning the back of my neck. I don’t see the way people look at me; I just keep walking. Sweetheart, she told me, there’s no rewind button in the real world. Addya Bhowmick
24
View from the Window - Danielle Dobson