BACK - 6

Before my mother's passing, she'd always remind me about the importance of keeping things close to your heart. She used to say that even the smallest of things that we take for granted daily, are of some significance.

While where I was going at the moment wasn't that small in size, I treated it like that in my mind. I didn't pay much attention to how much I love that place and how much it means to me.

That treehouse means so much to me.

As I drive along past familiar roads, I think about all the times I've spent there. Emma and I used to love sneaking up there when we couldn't bear our families any longer during our early teens, and we'd talk about other things to distract us; maybe play a game or two while we were at it.

I also used to go there at a more upsetting part of my life when my mother was diagnosed as terminally ill. It used to be a thinking place for me while my father made trips back and forth from the hospital.

But even when I hadn't told anyone where I was, Emma would find me. She'd console me or tell me that her mum went to the hospital, then invite me over for dinner. She never let me feel the void of a mother, almost giving me hers.

That was another thing I regret, not thanking her mum. She was with me at my worst and became very dear to me yet I showed no gratitude. And Emma would call me the kind-hearted one.

I lock my car as I step out and survey my surroundings. The sun was shining high in the sky now, telling me it's now morning. More importantly, I look at the treehouse that stood not too far away right in front of me.

It was time to go to it.

I walk, looking straight at it and nowhere else. I walk faster, wanting to get there already. I keep walking and that's when I bump into someone.

That someone that I hadn't seen in five years.

Emma.

The first thing she says, "Issac?"

I don't know what to say so I nod. She doesn't say anything else but just stares.

I take this time to stare back. She's matured and that's evident in her clothing. She's not dressed in her favourite shorts and sandals, instead in her suit and heels. Her hair isn't in her natural waves, but tied back in a bun.

She's definitely matured.

Her face though, tells a different story. Her eyes still twinkle in the mischievous way they used to and her lips still have the fullness of her youth. Her cheeks are still full, just waiting for me to pinch.

She looks like my Emma.

I smile a small smile. After all these years, she's still putting up a façade.

Emma looks like she's going to say something but stops. I furrow my eyebrows and before I know it, she's gone. She storms off in anger, which contrasts her facial expressions that were softer.

Why are you doing this Emma?

She may have left now, but I'm not giving up on her.

So I forget about the treehouse and get in my car to follow her.

* * *

Author's Note: There you have it! We are where Gone left off and now let's get this drama started!

Why do you think Emma didn't say anything? What is Issac going to do?