Turn Back Time

By Kunal Siyal

I wandered through the deserted streets as the unmerciful wind scraped the sides of my rough and broken face. My hand scampered into my grey coat pockets, while my face lay hidden in my coat, like a snake curled into a ball. I trudged into the first eatery I could find, The Black Hound. The bell trilled in unison as I opened the brown, oak door, and immediately, the smell of strong coffee beans flooded my nose. The Hound hadn't changed a bit. I sat at a single counter and waited for the waiter to take my order. I played with a metallic lighter as my eyes stared into the glowing flames that erupted out of the canister. I perched my finger above the fire, and the burning sensation sent a chill down my spine and for a moment- it all came back. The screams. The pain. The agony. Tring. Tring. The waiter arrived early with my coffee- pitch black with no sugar. Just the way I liked it. I flipped a coin on the desk and walked out without uttering a word, hoping he would not remember who I was. I exited the shop and trudged down the empty roads, as the salty airs calmed my nerves. Don't worry, I told myself. You're here. You're here.

The towering pine trees obstructed the town from the outside world, cutting off the little communication that was left. As I continued to stroll through abandoned and neglected roads, I realized how truly uninhabited the town had become since my departure. The old charm that once lured me into the town was fading away, just like its people. The once congested and bustling streets now were empty and lifeless, and the roaring sounds of traffic and construction had drowned, while a deafening silence loomed over the town. I walked past the barren buildings, the hostile houses, and the barred schools. Yet, something lured me to this town. Maybe it was the memories. Maybe it was the thought of him. But whatever it was, I never encountered a town remotely like this in my entire lifetime.

I walked past the foreboding playgrounds and froze, unable to walk any further. Turning back, I saw an elderly man, with glistening white hair, sitting on the tire swings. My body numbed instantly and a smirk crept up my cheek. He never left. At least, not really. The wind blew the coral leaves away, as they clawed on the concrete ground. My legs trembled uncontrollably as my eyes glared at the swing. As I walked towards him, each step felt lighter, and with each step, I felt more alive. Adrenaline rushed through my body, and emotions came flooding out. Tears dropped down onto the bare, coarse sand and as I entered the playground, all my worries disappeared.

Trembling, I sat beside him, hoping he would turn around and notice me. It had been an eternity since I had seen him look so youthful and so lively, but apart from that, he remained the same person I knew and loved. His eyes twinkled and his smile remained pure and sincere. The sounds of laughter and joy echoed in my ears as memories were replayed in my mind, as I wished I could turn back time and make it all alright.

"You came back didn't you?" he whispered. His eyes were still fixated on the drowning sun, but he knew I was here.

"Yes."

"Why?" he asked curiously. I knew he would ask that, and despite knowing my answer my mouth was dry, and my mind was blank.

"To see you," I said. "Nothing in the world can ever keep me away from you."

His smile widened as his face turned around to face mine. He stared at me for a second, but upon noticing the metallic lighter in my pocket his smile faded away.

"There wasn't a day that I didn't miss you, Grandpa," I said quietly. "I wish you were still with me."

He clutched my hand and looked at me, "I will always be here," he said, pointing to my heart. "No matter how old you get, or how much you change, you will always be the 6-year-old boy who was terrified of needles. The boy ate 5 bars of chocolate a day. You will always be my grandson Gray, and nothing will ever change that."

My eyes blurred as my heart ached. "Cliches Grandpa. Wow, you haven't changed, have you," I joked, through the tears.

The wind rushed past me, as the sand blew onto my face. As I opened my eyes, I found that I was alone on the swing, with not a person in sight. I looked down and smiled. I took off my watch and looked at the words that had been engraved into the hard silver. Life, which is well lived, is long enough. Thinking about it, there was nobody who enjoyed life more than Grandpa, and just as I left the playground I heard the echoes of a 6-year-old boy laughing as he swung on the swings, while an elderly man stood there smiling, looking more alive than ever.

"Thank you, Grandpa- for everything." And somehow I felt the old man smile, and look at me. He was right. I would never be alone,

By Kunal Siyal