I hardly knew her, and she hardly knew me, but we were running alongside the twinkling lamp posts that lined up on the edge of the street, illuminating our way forward. It sounds so cheesy, two non-lovers holding hands and running. Which then hit me; what if she had a partner all along? Worse, what if she was married? I pushed the thoughts aside.

Impossible.

I turned to watch her as she did her best to run on the same wavelength with me. That was when I slowed down, and when I saw her sweating and panting, and me too, and how exhausting it had all been chasing the moonlight that was shining down on us, I realized that she had been roped into this little run for no reason.

“Where are we going?” She asked and we stopped to catch our breaths.

“Just a little further up ahead,” I spoke in between the breathing.

“Is it far?”

I shook my head slightly. “Not very.” I pointed to the garden ahead of us, hidden behind the arch bridge. “It’s just there.”

She walked up beside me, continuing to catch her breath.

“I never caught your name,” she said.

“You did,” I said. “I didn’t catch yours.”

She looked surprised.

“What was your name?” She asked.

“Zyler Buxton,” I said.

The surprised look stayed. She reached out her sweaty palm and we exchanged handshakes.

“I’m Rinoa Reudinger,” she said, softly.

Weird name, was all I could think of when I’d finally heard it.

“That’s specifically long,” I said. That wasn’t what I felt was weird about it.

“I guess not everybody likes long last names.”

“No-no, that wasn’t what I meant. It just felt long.”

Shit, shouldn’t have said that in the first place. Now I just look like a fool.

I turned towards the arch bridge, then to the small hill before the arch bridge, the moon still hanging in the clouds above.

“Come on. We’re almost there,” I said. I pulled her hand again, and now she ran with me.

The night wind was cold and breezy, and that helped to alleviate some of the sweat and heat that was surging through us. It wasn’t a bad night to be running in. Though I could hardly forget the place I was taking Rinoa too.

Speaking of which, her first name sounded weird too. I just figured that if I do accidentally say her name wrong it would be replacing the ‘n’ and ‘o’ in her name.

Rinoa. Riona. Both names looked alright to me, but the pronunciation would give it away for sure.

I couldn’t believe too, that I was dragging Rinoa to Ford Garden, or rather near there, where Stella I shared our first kiss. It was under the moonlit night too, so that added an extra spice to the occasion. Nevertheless, spices can only add so much to an unsalvageable relationship and a doomed friendship. But I was taking Rinoa there. Somehow, it was the first thing I thought.

It was the only place I knew where, if Stella enjoyed the view as much as I was and shared the lonely silence together, then it wouldn’t be lonely. We would be able to see the lushness of the Ford Garden and the lights that were still on, and then there would be the cold thrill of just watching it. That seemed romantic in my head, but I don’t think Rinoa and I have reached that level yet. Well, we did just met fifteen minutes ago.

We approached the bridge, but instead of going on it, we climbed the short steep hill that spiralled up to a flat surface. On the top of the hill there was a small rock that could easily be sat by one or two. It wasn’t rocky nor was it too uncomfortable.

Stella had convinced me that even if it was, the view beyond us would compensate for everything. I didn’t disagree.

I gestured Rinoa to the rock, letting her sit first and directed her eyes towards Ford Garden. I sat down beside her, watching her facial expressions, and her lips.

She was speechless and stunned, or I guess that was what she was feeling since she hadn’t spoken since a while back. But she pressed her lips as I watched, and realising how creepy my actions were I turned towards the Garden.

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“Nice, isn’t it?” I asked, though that really wasn’t a question. If it was, it wasn’t rhetorical too.

“Yes,” she muttered. I assumed that she was taking it all in, though I dared not to look. The creepy factor was one thing, but the view from where we were was just too irresistible.

Still, just sitting on the rocks took me back to the time Stella and I was here. She was stunning too, in her tied ponytails and a dark jacket on, and we cuddled while we watched the glittering lights in the Garden. I hadn’t taken anyone to that view since I knew of it, and Stella was the first.

I don’t intend to make Rinoa the last.

While Stella and I appreciated the silence, I felt like Rinoa probably wouldn’t appreciate that sentiment. But what do I know?

“So,” I spoke, making a rough hand gesture, “what was that call about?”

She didn’t speak. Not just for a while, but for a long time. I watched her eyes as they widened, still looking onto the Garden. Then, her eyes matched mine.

“A call that broke everything,” she said. Her tone was mired with a form of delicate sadness, and she tried her best to hide it. But I heard it.

“Did it have something to do with the drawings?” I asked. It was the only conclusion I got to, so that was what I went for.

“Yeah. Kind of,” she replied. “But they were also a form of catharsis to me. Was that how you said that word?”

Catharsis. Suddenly the word sounded foreign to me, but the way she said it sounded correct.

I nodded to Rinoa. “Yes.”

“I’m glad that I’m feeling that now.” She smiled and turned her head back towards the Garden, and I did the same.

I understood how she felt. It wasn’t just for an emphatic response, but as an aspiring writer with piling reject letters? That’s rough.

There was a sense of wonder to her when I finally realized why I had decided to take her hand and run in the first place, and why she never at all, decided to break mine and leave. It wasn’t because she was drawn in or anything, it didn’t seem likely, but she had been broken. The view that we were sharing allowed us to peek into the Garden, and that was what she needed.

Catharsis. That was it.

“You know, I used to take a friend here,” I said absentmindedly. “She wasn’t the best at making judgements, or anything. She was, well-” I racked my brain to find the correct word “-happy, here. I think that she liked the place.”

I touched my pockets and brought out my phone. I didn’t know if she was listening, but I hoped that she was. Perhaps Rinoa was still enjoying the view and that my words had become an intrusion into her bubble. Maybe now that I’d taken her here, she’ll be here all the time to draw and to reminisce about something in her past. The Mystic Isles, or whatever that was.

I turned on my music player and flipped through a few songs. What was I looking for? Something to fit the mood? A slow ballad from the 70s? A new wave classic from the 80s? It didn’t even occur to me – what if she hated music from that era?

Curse it, I thought. No matter what, the music would just be an added distraction. If she didn’t like it, and she didn’t understand, then I guess that would be all on me. And yeah, that would be an added distraction after all.

Curse it, I thought again. I’ll just play whatever I thought would work.

I scrolled the tracks, letting my finger do the work and eventually stopping on a random track.

Release Me by Wilson Phillips. Not all that bad. I pressed the play button and turned the volume up, but I didn’t make it too deafening. Just soft enough that it played in the background while I watched Rinoa-

As I turned to glance at her, her eyes turned black. Cracking through the blackness were an abundance of colours, trying to escape, yelling green, red and blue amongst others. Her hands were clutching her golden necklace, and all I could think of was how horrific her eyes, as black and brooding as they were, had become almost inhuman-like. It came straight out from a horror sketch.

“Rinoa? What’s happening?” I called out to her. With an outreached hand I grabbed her shoulders.

An electrical sensation surged through me, and my sight turned pitch-black.

When they returned, I was now tumbling, in a different place altogether, away from the Garden and the rock, and the bar. I was in an open field with - I suppose - wheat. It was all around me, waving and dancing in the strong open wind.

Tall. Beige. Waving. The air was strong too, brushing up against my skin.

“Hey!” I heard Rinoa’s voice, and I turned to see her in her purple dress skipping through the open field. Just behind her stood a massive tower, like a kingdom with open cracks in certain areas. There was an oasis, I could clearly see, off in the distance just to the side of the tower, glitter spraying in the air.

I tried to run to Rinoa, but I wasn’t moving. I wasn’t even running, but that wasn’t possible.

What the hell is this? Where the hell am I?

This felt like a dream. Weird, unlike Riona’s last name, but a dream nonetheless.

“Hey!” She called out to me again, waving desperately from across the open field. “Come over here!”

“I can’t! I’m stuck!” I yelled to her.

“What?!”

I ran, as fast as I could and as much as I could, but I remained in the same place. It seemed that the world was revolving around me, but I couldn’t do anything.

As I continued to run, a black thunder emerged behind Rinoa where the kingdom stood. Then it struck again, and again, demolishing the massive tower and sending it crumbling as it spewed debris from the crash. By the fourth or fifth hit, I noticed that the thunder wasn’t just striking in the same area, but it was approaching. Between the chaos in the sky and me was Rinoa, and I then I could feel it. The thunder was coming for her.

“Rinoa! Run!” I yelled as loud as I could. “Run!” I yelled again, the sore in my throat bulging and burning, but she stood and watched me.

“Why? Come over here!”

She hadn’t heard the rumblings, nor the strike of lightning, but that was impossible. Everything was loud. A little too much, yes, but it was ear-shattering now.

If Rinoa didn’t move, she would get hit by the thunder. I can’t let that happen.

I ran, and it didn’t work. I made it simple, placing one foot over the other, then my next foot over it, and continued to do so, but I couldn’t move. I was stuck in the same place. Stuck in the same shit. If I don’t move and grab Rinoa, she’s going to get hit. She’s going to die.

As the storm cloud above the kingdom shifted its position after it was done, it flew towards me.

But before that, a black wave flew out from Rinoa, and it hit the environment around us. Suddenly I stopped moving, and so did the thunder, dissipating in the sky. I watched her as she crumpled, disappearing into the fields. The electrical sensation surged through me again, then blackness covered my sights.

‘Cause’ we want to be free, but somehow it’s just not that easy.’