The amusement park was vibrant, overflowing with life and colors. The sweet scent of popcorn, cotton candy, and churros mixed with the greasy aroma of fried snacks from the food stalls. The sound of children’s laughter and the lively music from the rides created a chaotic yet strangely comforting symphony.
We walked side by side, taking in every detail around us. There was something almost magical about this place—not because of the park itself, but because of what it represented. A fragment of the past, a living memory of simpler times.
— Do you remember the last time we came here? — Melissa asked, intertwining her fingers with mine.
— How could I forget? That was the day you dared me to ride the scariest roller coaster in the park — I replied with a nostalgic smile.
Melissa laughed, her eyes gleaming as if she were reliving that moment.
— And you screamed so much that even the kids in the front row started laughing at you!
I rolled my eyes, feigning indignation.
— I was just… testing the park’s acoustics.
She giggled, pulling me forward before I could come up with a comeback.
— Come on, let’s get some cotton candy.
We approached a small stall where an elderly vendor spun sugar into delicate pink clouds. Melissa ordered two, and soon we were walking again, pulling apart pieces of the fluffy treat that melted instantly in our mouths.
The late afternoon breeze carried a soft freshness, contrasting with the warmth of the sun as it began to set on the horizon.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
That’s when we passed by the shooting gallery.
Melissa stopped abruptly, a mischievous smile forming on her lips.
— Remember how I always won these games?
— I remember you cheating somehow — I replied, crossing my arms.
— It wasn’t cheating, it was talent. — She grabbed one of the toy rifles and looked at me with a playful challenge in her eyes. — Let’s see who wins now.
I accepted the challenge without hesitation. The attendant handed us the guns, and the competition began. I aimed carefully, trying to hit the moving targets, but Melissa was simply flawless. Every shot of hers hit dead center, while mine missed by mere inches.
In the end, her score was almost double mine.
— See? I’m still the best. — She picked a teddy bear as a prize and, without hesitation, handed it to me.
— A gift for losing so miserably?
— A gift to remind you that I’m better at these games.
I sighed, accepting my defeat with a half-smile.
We kept walking, and soon we found ourselves at the entrance to the hall of mirrors. Melissa didn’t even hesitate before pulling me inside.
Inside, our reflections multiplied into dozens of distorted images. Some made us look tall and skinny like poles, while others turned us short and chubby.
— Look at this one! — Melissa pointed at a mirror where I had a tiny body and ridiculously long legs.
— And this one? — I showed her another where my head was enormous, and my body was as thin as a twig.
We laughed so hard we could barely walk. It was one of those rare moments where everything felt right—no worries, no burdens of the past, no fear of the future. Just the two of us, laughing like children.
But as we ventured deeper into the mirror maze, something made me stop.
A reflection, slightly different from the others.
At first, I thought it was just a normal distortion, but something felt… off. Melissa’s reflection seemed to be one step behind where she actually was. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but enough to send a faint chill down my spine.
Blinking a few times, I looked again. This time, everything seemed normal.
I must be imagining things.
Shaking off the unease, I continued walking beside her.
By the time we finally stepped out of the mirror maze, the sky was painted in shades of orange and pink. Melissa squeezed my hand gently, her eyes reflecting the golden light of the sunset.
— Let’s go to the beach? The sunset is going to be beautiful today.
I tightened my grip on her hand and smiled.
— Let’s go.
And with that, we left the amusement park behind, unaware that this would be one of the last truly happy memories we’d share before everything changed forever.