“Sometimes the only way to stay sane is to go a little crazy.” – Girl, Interrupted by Susanna Kaysen

Arlo

I studied the chessboard, my brow furrowed in concentration. Nathaniel chuckled, a low, amused sound that filled the air, a playful challenge. I glanced over at the growing pile of captured pieces beside him, a grim reminder of my dwindling chances. A mischievous glint in my eye, I moved my queen, sacrificing it to take his rook. Nathaniel’s grin faltered, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. ‘My flower,’ he murmured, stroking his chin wistfully, ‘she’s more cunning. She always wins when we play. She would enjoy playing with you.’ A touch of melancholy, tinged with a hint of wistful longing, lingered in his voice. He looked at me, his eyes pleading, ‘Arlo, save her.’ A chilling realization washed over me, the weight of his unspoken plea settling heavy on my shoulders. ‘I will,’ I said, my voice firm despite the tremor that ran through me. ‘I’m sorry this happened to your family. He nodded, his gaze fixed on the chessboard. “They aren’t far,” he said with a touch of frustration and regret, his voice a low, resonant whisper that seemed to vibrate through me. “I can feel that, a presence close by, a sense of…urgency. But not exactly where. I must go now,” he said, his form beginning to shimmer and fade. “I will see you again.” A faint smile touched his lips, a smile that held a hint of yearning for the past, for the life he’d shared with her. He told me a story of when he took her with him to play chess in the park. She beat his friends, every single one of them. Soon, others lined up to play her, and it turned into a tournament that lasted all day. “She was quite the strategist, you know. Just like you, Arlo.” And then he was gone, vanishing into thin air.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

I woke with a start, my heart pounding. I was at my desk, covered in folders, the jarring sound of my alarm clock piercing the silence. I had decided to take a quick nap on my lunch break, exhausted from the long hours. But something had shifted within me. The memory of Nathaniel, his words, the lingering warmth of his hand on mine, and the faint echo of his yearning smile… it all felt strangely real. And the chessboard, still set up on my desk, seemed to shimmer with an unseen energy, a silent testament to the power of memory and the enduring strength of love even of those no longer with us love never died.