Dreamer

“Thane?” I whisper. A fair-haired 10-year-old turns to me. He has the most beautiful green eyes.

“Yes Aislinn?” he answers.

“Promise me you’ll never forget me,” I say. He nods.

“I won’t.”

“Pinky promise!” I was an 8-year-old, pinky promises were the promises you can’t break. I held out my pinky. He stepped closer to me.

“I’ll never forget you, Aislinn,” he latches his pinky onto mine. He smells good. Like pine. “Can you promise me something?” he murmurs.

“What is it?”

“Promise me that you’ll be my only true love,”

“I promise. Pinky swear.”

“I have to go now,” he says.

“Go where? Can I go too?”

“No.” my eyes fill with tears. The clouds above us turn grey and fat raindrops fall, stinging our skin.

“W-why not?”

“In 8 more years, you’ll be 16, and I’ll be 18. By then you’ll understand.”

“You sound like the grown-ups,” I grumble. He laughs. I hand him the onyx bead bracelet I made him. “Wear this! I made it myself.” He takes it and slips it on his wrist. Then, he pulls out a gold necklace from his shirt pocket and gives it to me. I study the pretty pendant. It was a heart, held together by the tip. I touched it. It felt so smooth like it was polished every day.

“Wear this to remember me,” he instructs. I pull it over my black hair.

“Thank you,” I murmur.

“See you later, Aligator,” I say.

He chuckles and starts to walk away. I felt tears down my cheeks. The rain starts to pour more heavily. But before he turns the corner, I hear something.

“After a while, Crocodile.”

It’s been 8 years since I last saw Thane. I’m 17 years old now, and my birthday is in 2 more weeks.

“Aislinn! Come down!” shouts mama. I smooth my hands down my emerald green dress. It looks very grown-up. Personally, I would’ve chosen a red dress that ends above my knees. You know, with spaghetti straps? This dress is sleeveless with a plunging neckline. My Mamai, sister and I have to go to a gala at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I hear 2 knocks at my door then it swings open.

“Mom said hurry up. We’re waiting on you, you know.” states my sister, Amethyst.

“Who else would you guys be waiting on?” I say, applying my red lipstick. Normally I would opt for black, I like the way it clashes with my pale skin. But Mamai told me to put this on.

“You look beautiful,” she compliments. “I wish I could have your black hair,” I grin at her. She does, doesn’t she?

“Why, thank you,” I flip my waist-length hair over my shoulder. Amethyst grabs my hand and we make our way down the stairway.

“Mamai, I’m ready!” I call. She walks towards us from the kitchen. My mamai looks beautiful in her grey dress, with all the layers of tulle, it looks like a cloud. It fits her, with her being a cloud nymph and all.

“I’ll go call the chauffeur,” she says. “Oh, you girls look gorgeous,” Amethyst beams. She does look stunning with her black beaded corset and the skirt swishing from side to side every time she walks.

"Thank you, Mamai," her violet eyes glow. Mamai disappears to the front yard.

"What's so special about this gala?" I grumble. I wanted to stay home and have berry cake. This is a major loss.

"Didn't you hear?" Amethyst asks, surprised. "Thane Wilcon is home from his training from 8 years ago," Thane? Not my Thane. Probably someone else. But the name still sends the butterflies in my tummy in marathon mode. I nod. About 10 minutes later, the car arrives. As I and Amethyst walk outside, I wonder if I might be wrong and this is my Thane. A gra mo chroi. I glance at the car. It's a sliver, Alfa Romeo. I'll always have a love for Alfa Romeo cars.

"Oooh," Amethyst breathes.

"Don't you have Porsches at home?" I wonder. She waves her hand at me.

"Psh. I want this car," she states.

"Not if I already have it in the garage," I point out. We have a big garage, filled with cars.

"Girls!" Mamai calls. "Get in, get in!"