Does anyone remember Kyran Bridge? I must be losing my mind. Lately i’ve been stuck in an endless void of confusion, drowning in the loss of hope and questioning my own sanity. Growing up as a child was tough. My dad passed away when I was 13 due to a brain tumour, and so I grew up with a single parent, who’d spend most of her nights crying and getting drunk off wine. I was bullied a lot in school, kids would pick on me because I was lonely and antisocial - and i’m not talking about the usual, generic bullying. They’d have a game they’d like to call “The Silent Treatment”, which had a self-explanatory purpose to see how long the class could go on without talking to me. It wasn’t physical torture but psychological torture. I was left out and depressed, with no one to talk to about my problems. It was as if life had forced me onto an edge, and there was no escape but to plummet and pray. But that all changed when a new neighbour, not too far away, moved in. He had messy blonde hair, blue glasses, and a small scar just above his right (my right) eyebrow. His name was Kyran Bridge, and he had recently joined the school a week before Christmas break. It was at lunchtime before silent whispers spread about the game they’d play on me, and I was pretty certain Kyran had overheard and may have obliged to these social morals; or at least I thought so. Later that day in P.E, i was instructed to retrieve the footballs (soccer balls in the US) from the forest behind the astro turf, as it wasn’t uncommon for someone to kick one over. Not that I was complaining, I wasn’t doing much that evening and despite the cold climate, the forest behind the school can be quite pretty in the autumn. It came as a surprise when i met Kyran.
I spoke up in desperate hope.
“Hey, I understand if you don’t want to talk to me like the others, but i’m human, and if you want a mate to get you settled in i’m here for you.”
“I appreciate that, thank you, and the others are stupid. I completely understand you. You must get trampled on a lot.”
“Yeah, I suppose so.”
“I got that a lot before I moved here, I was always in the way of everyone, but here I’ve only met nice people like you so far.”
“Thank you, I appreciate that a lot.”
“So you live here with your mum?”
“Yeah, she’s been a bit down lately, but she’ll be okay.”
“And your dad?”
Suddenly, it went silent.
“Topic you don’t want to talk about, Harrison?”
My stomach sank. My name was Harley, Harrison was the name my mum called me. I didn’t bring it up, I reinstated my name was Harley, but he carried on calling me that anyway. I got used to it. From then, things got better. I had a shoulder to cry on and my mum found a new boyfriend, we spent a lot more time together and for once I felt happy. Everyone forgot about the game they played on me and me and Kyran and I found ourselves into a large friendship group (me, Kyran, James, and Kyle). We stayed up late nights, got drunk, high, and found ourselves crashing parties, just the average teenage things. This continued for 5 years. However, I noticed that over the years Kyran became quieter, it became difficult to talk to him. He stopped hanging around with us as much. I told my mum, and she said I was being ridiculous, that she hasn’t seen him for years except the average couple times she’s walked past him. Eventually, we all left for college and made our own ways, I found a loving girlfriend and graduated college. But that’s when things turned grey. Kyle has been arrested for drink driving and manslaughter, as well as possession of marijuana. My loving girlfriend I told you about, I found she cheated on me with James, who was coincidentally my manager for our business we set up together and I was fired after he found my replacement. My mum has recently been diagnosed with stage 4 cancer due to smoking habits and has been given only a few months to live. I figured, what I need is someone by my side. But it seems like no one is there for me. Everyone is leaving or has left. That’s when I was reminded of Kyran. I recall the last words he said to me -
“If you get lost, i’m here for you, always.”
Well that’s it, i’m officially lost. I thought i’d find him easily, but this is the freaky part. No one seems to remember Kyran. It’s like he disappeared. My mum denies ever knowing of the boy and the old neighbours across the road swear they have lived there since before I was born and have never seen a boy of sort around. Its not like anyone can forget him, he has seen practically everybody that went to our school and was the reason our friendship group broke up - but even they say they don’t remember a 4th member in our group. There was no trace he ever existed - his place in the year book was a blank and the school documents (yes, I even went that far to look for him) of a Kyran were non existent. But why does no one remember him? What happened? How come I do? Then, one night, I hear something. A crying. It was 12 at night, I was pretty startled and refused to step out my door, blaming my imagination and trying to sleep. But the longer I was awake, the more I realised how realistic these cries for help were. Opening my door, I see a pool of running blood trailing down my stairs into the kitchen. I shouted downstairs -
“HELLO!? ARE YOU OKAY?”
But no response. Just endless agonising screams. It got louder as I followed, i’m pretty sure I heard a few people screaming, but that of i’m not so sure. I was petrified. The blood trail leads through the kitchen towards my dining room. The screaming stopped, and what I saw next haunted me. In the mirror wasn’t me. It was Kyran. He was pale, had no teeth, and had large round lifeless eyes. His scar streaming with blood. He just looked at me, smiling, pointing to a picture of the 4 of us in the forest together, our chill out spot, the water below our feet. That’s where i’ll find Kyran Bridge. That’s where i’ll lose all my troubles. That’s where, finally, I can be free. I saw the sign, and I saw him. Kyran Bridge greeted me, i’ve never been so happy to see something all my life. I held him tight, and I spoke -
“Goodbye.”
30 meters below the bridge, my freedom awaits.