Lost Memories

The Meeting It took only a brief moment for Dakota to acknowledge that being sixteen meant nothing more than being older and just as confused. She arrived, but what did that mean? What was her destination? Now that she got here, what would come next? How would she make sense of it all, especially when it came to her past? Many referred to it as Sweet Sixteen. Now that she experienced it firsthand, her new age didn’t impress her. Most of her younger years seemed a blur, and now this period in her life felt no different. Daily living left a bitter taste in her mouth, and reaching another year of existence meant only that she had aged. She yearned to relish a sweet future, but she doubted that her life would ever know the taste. Baffled by her profound thoughts, Dakota readied herself for school. She had three tests today and didn’t prepare to take any of them. Pointless, she thought, as she threw on her purple parka, grabbed her purple psychedelic backpack, and ran out the door. As she boarded the school bus, it occurred to her that it was in fact her birthday, and she should make the most of it. Despite her negative feelings, she put on her best face and headed for the back of the bus, where she began her morning’s greetings. “Hey, Lauren, What’s ‘sup? Do you have your research done for the history project?” “Hardly, birthday girl,” Lauren replied. “What plans do you have to celebrate?” “I’m out to dinner with the Parries when they return from their trip. “What about you? Are you finished with your report?” “My project—I suppose I will start it one of these days, maybe tomorrow, maybe next week, maybe never.” “It’s due Monday, Sky D.” “Whatever. Lauren, I know but I just don’t care.” “What Native American tribe did you choose to report on?” “Nez Perce. I think Chief Joseph was a great man.” “I’m into the Apaches. They were some wild dudes, especially Geronimo,” Lauren said. Dakota leaned back and sat quietly listening to her music. Soon the bus would stop to pick up her friend, Jesse Rose. Thinking about him reminded her of the nightmare she had during the night—the one in which Jesse and she found a body of a dead teen lying faced down on a mat. This had not been the first night the vision interrupted her sleep, but she hoped it would be her last. She hated waking up screaming and wishing she understood the messages the dreams conveyed. She hoped Jesse was okay and the dream wasn’t a warning of something nasty he and she might eventually experience. Jesse’s house was the bus’s last stop on the trip before reaching senior high. He rarely attended on Fridays, and she waited anxiously until the following Tuesday to see him again. She never asked her buddy why he barely made it to school three days out of the week. Something prevented him from coming, but she questioned whether she should press him to explain. It really was none of her business. Once again the bus slowed down and continued on when Jesse failed to appear at the end of his driveway.