Written For: PrincessGeek2002

Hope you enjoy it!

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

I was fifteen years old when I met her.

Adam's P.O.V. 

September 05, 2001 - sixteen years ago

I was introverted from the start. One to study and do as I was told. But I never had any luck making friends at school. I was too quiet and too awkward, and my peers seemed to always avoid the "weird ones"... except for the athletic boys of Iowa 7 High School. You see, I used my spare time to practice the piano and the guitar instead of chasing a ball around a field. The other guys thought I was weak, so they did the thing all strong, burly, egotistical adolescent males did: pick on the weak... and the freaks.

On a certain afternoon, I was in the music room making some improvisations on a song I had been working on. Then, they came. The pimple-faced one in front who was sucking a lollipop said, "Hey, Adam! Watcha doin'?"

"Oh, you know, just making a new tune for the upcoming school concert," I replied quietly.

"Uh-huh," the warrior said quite menacingly. His lackeys started to snicker. Their ringleader took the lollipop out of his mouth and waddled toward me. He slammed his hand on the piano, which made me jump. His lackeys, burst into laughter. The leader started to grin. "I think it's time to tune out your face, wimp!", he snarled. He swung at me, hitting me square in the shoulder and knocking me off my seat. I squinted, then my flight-or-fight response kicked in and I made for the door.

"Hey, twerp!" a skinny, bucktooth boy yelled as I pushed past him. Around this time, the only person monitoring the hallways was an old janitor, and he was not too keen on hearing. So I would not have any help from him if I called out for help. This meant I had to find the nearest exit and hope that the gang would stop chasing me. I was starting to run out of breath when a neon-red exit sign came into view. I took a final dash to it and burst through the door.

I stopped, breathing heavily. There was no sound. I must have lost them, I thought. I leaned against the school wall and closed my eyes. Then, the door swung around and hit my right temple. The sneaky gang had followed me here and got the better of me.

The chase was on again.

I frantically climbed up a nearby hill and dashed to the forest. The footsteps of the crew were right behind me. I could feel them trying to grab my shirt. I was dead meat. I was SUPER dead meat. However, at that moment, they came to a screeching halt.

"Hey, that's Old Vio's forest!" one grunt said. "No one who goes in there ever comes out, at least not in one piece," he continued.

Their leader chuckled. "Hey, Adam! Good luck getting out of there. Old Vio's going to do more damage to you than any of us could!" the boy yelled, trying to sound tough. I did not care. I just wanted to get away from those guys.

Old Vio, that's what they call the spirit of the woods behind our school.

They say there was a young, gorgeous lady who loved to play the violin in this forest, while butterflies and bumblebees danced and frolicked around her. But she fell ill with an unknown disease and died in the darkest depths of the woods. She died without marrying, without making a name for herself, and without being able to enjoy life. Hence, to this day, travelers claim that they have heard the faint sound of the violin playing the last song the poor woman performed before she died. And if you follow the tune, you will meet the ghoul of Old Vio and be shredded to bits by her violin's strings!

But that's just superstition, I thought as I made more distance between the bullies and myself. I dodged trees left and right, tripped over a root and scraped my knees, but I was determined to leave those ruffians no way of getting to me if they mustered the courage to delve into the ever-darkening woods.

It's getting dark, I thought. I stopped to catch my breath. I looked around to see only trees, and more trees. Everywhere, looked the same. The bullies would not be able to find me but I was not able to find a way out of the woods either.

"Now, what am I going to do?" I pondered.

Then, I heard something. Beyond the sounds of crickets and owls, there was a stringed instrument playing. A certain stringed instrument. "A violin!" I said, shuddering. I listened closely. The music did not seem tortured nor did the strings squeal under the pressure of the wand, as I thought the sad ghost would play. The music sounded soothing, filled with an unusual, but quite welcoming charm. I was drawn closer to it, despite my better judgment. Closer, and closer. I could not resist its orphic melody. It was numinous, to say the least.

I pushed through the bush and squinted in the face of the setting sun. As my eyes began to adjust, I saw the silhouette of a girl on a low branch of a tree. She was playing the violin.

"Hmm, she doesn't look see-through," I thought aloud. I went nearer to her; my nerves were being calmed by the sweet tune she played. When I was in hearing distance I finally yelled, "Um... hey!" She gave a little shriek and turned around abruptly.

"Hey! Are you trying to give me cardiac arrest? I'm only fifteen, for goodness sake!" she questioned, looking annoyed.

"Oh, sorry... I didn't mean to scare you," I was genuinely regretful for shouting at her.

Her expression turned from annoyed to infuriated. "I could've fallen and broken my neck too! You almost killed me! Twice! Having a heart attack while falling to your death is not a fun way to die!" She then let out a long, agitated groan. "And now I've lost my tune! You sure are helpful!" she said sarcastically.

The amount of guilt within me went from minimal to excruciatingly large. I started to blush from the immense embarrassment and looked to the ground for comfort, thinking it would help my situation. After a brief silence, the girl sighed.

"Look, I'm sorry," her voice was now softer which made me gain enough courage to look up at her again. "I shouldn't have overreacted like that," she sighed once more, "It's just... things have been rough lately. Music is my only escape, and I don't like being interrupted." She turned her head to the side and began to lose herself in a moment of thought. I took this time to get a better look at her, but she quickly turned to face me again.

"What's your name, anyway?" she asked, which slightly startled me.

"A-Adam," I stuttered, then immediately gazing at the ground again. "I'm sorry I interrupted you..."

The girl giggled. "Well, A-Adam," she mimicked me and started to climb down the tree, violin in hand. As she was descending, I realized I couldn't keep my eyes off her. She seemed like a ninja jumping down from branch to branch. Her movements were swift and skillful. It was obvious she had been doing this for years. When she finally reached the ground, she landed right in front of me then stretched out her hand for me to shake.

"I forgive you," she continued. "And my name is Hannah. Hannah Noel Mills." To say that she was beautiful was an understatement. She was... ethereal. She was ineffable. There were no words in the human vocabulary to describe her. Hair as golden as the sun, eyes as blue as the cerulean ocean on a clear day. She was... she was...

"Well, you gonna shake it or what?" Her voice broke my train of thought and I came to the horrific realization that I had been staring at her. She must've thought I was a freak... as did most people.

"Um, yeah," I hesitantly took Hannah's hand and shook it. In that moment, I saw how our hands fit perfectly together. That moment was however ephemeral, much to my dismay. It was now her turn to inspect me.

"Why are you all scarred up? How did you find me? And what's that smell?"

"Well," I started, "I came running into the forest trying to run away from some bullies--"

"So," Hannah interrupted, "you're a wimp."

"No," I said, feeling hurt, "please let me explain. I was playing my piano when some--"

"Wait," she interrupted again, "You play the piano?"

"Yes, I do."

Her face lit up. "That's so cool!" she exclaimed. "I've seen people play the piano on television and wonder 'how do they know which note to press and when?' I didn't know anyone who plays that instrument, so I have never gotten an answer." There was an awkward moment of silence. "So?" she asked impatiently.

"Yeah?"

"How do you do it?" she inquired.

Now, I'm not one to brag, so I tried to explain it to her as objectively as I could. "Well," I began, "It takes some practice and a good amount of determination, but in five months or so, you get an idea of the layout of the keys. And if you want a grand, dominating tone, you have to hit the keys hard. If you want a weak, but soothing tone, you push the keys gently."

I could see she loved instruments and that she was really interested in what I had to say. "Woah," Hannah said, "okay! And I've heard that all pianos do to make sound is strike a string with a hammer. Right?"

"Yeah, most pianos do. They have a chamber in front that contains a good number of strings, and when I press a key, the contraption sends a wooden hammer to strike the string."

"So, in a way, it's like my violin." Hannah looked at the mahogany violin. I could see that she cared for it well. It did not have a scratch on it, despite her being in the forest, where plants and branches could tear the surface of the possession.

"Yeah," I said after a while. I looked up to meet Hannah's eyes. She noticed that I was looking at her instrument. "Um..." I muttered.

She giggled. "Don't worry about it," she started, "it was a gift from my mother after my father-" She stopped, then looked away and cleared her throat. I could catch her meaning. "Ever since then," she continued, "I've tried my best to make mom smile by learning some old songs on it. I also like to make my own tunes sometimes, but I don't think they sound that good..."

"Well, in my opinion, you sounded amazing," I said smiling, not knowing where I got the courage from to say it.

Hannah looked back at me and smiled back, blushing. "Thanks," was her reply. She looked to the sky. "Oh, poo!" she said annoyed, "I've got to get home, my mom's gonna eat me alive!" She turned to me and smiled wryly, "I don't think you know the way out of here, do you, Adam?"

I chuckled weakly. "Not a clue," I responded.

"Come on, then. I'll show you the way to the nearest sidewalk."

"Thanks, Hannah."

"Heh, don't mention it."

As we made our way out of the woods, I watched her move gracefully past flower and fern. She was careful and made no sound, despite the low lighting. It was like she was trying to show respect to the sleeping wildlife. While, I, unfortunately, stomped on dried leaves and bumped my feet on rocks, despite my best effort. Hannah looked at me with disdain and sighed. Then she reached out for my hand and guided me to places of soft soil and solid roots. She was like one of those wind spirits, which guide sailors safely to the shore.

After fifteen minutes, I saw the tangerine glow of the street lights. We had made it back to town.

"Well," Hannah said, stretching, "I'm sure you can find your way back home from here."

"Um, yeah," I said, feeling sad that I was leaving her. I paused, then with the last ounce of courage I could muster up I asked, "Um, when can I see you again?"

Hannah looked at me wide-eyed, then smiled, "How about tomorrow? I usually come to the forest to practice my violin at sunset."

"Yes, definitely," I beamed, then realizing I was overreacting, I apologized. "I just don't have many friends," I explained.

"Well, if I get to know you better, you might count me as one of them."

I smiled bigger than I ever did in my entire life at that moment. "Thank you, Hannah."

"No problem. Night, A-Adam." And with that, she gave me another award-winning smile and disappeared into the night. I was spell-bound. I was amazed at her wit, her charm, and her music. I was...

"No," I stopped that thought, "I couldn't be, could I?" With that in mind, I made my way home, already wanting to see her again.

September 06, 2001

I looked to the sky. It was a bright shade of purple and orange, and the sun was already behind the woods to the west. Okay, now how did I do this? I wondered when I surveyed the acres of tall pine trees. For the most part, I ran in a single direction, but which direction was that? I pulled the straps of my backpack to tighten them and started to jog toward the sun.

I began to run because I did not want Hannah to be waiting for me. A wave of déjà vu rushed over me as I started to increase my pace. My heart started to race as I wondered if the gang was chasing me again. But, then I remembered: the bullies of yesterday never did come through the forest. And I also remembered fondly the astounded looked on the grunts faces when I walked into homeroom that morning. They did not say anything to me, but I'm sure that they were a bit intimidated to see that Adam Randal Young was not a pile of spaghetti. They did not bother me that day and I didn't think they would bother me in the future. At least something good has come out of this, I thought. But, I also hoped that something else would happen: I would make a friend.

The rays of sunlight began to peer out from behind the trunks of the massive trees. I was almost there, But I did not hear any music. My heart sunk. Was I too late? I quickly dodged around the last few trees but was stopped by a root that was a few inches too high. I tripped and fell on my face on the grass of the clearing.

"C'mon, Adam!" Hannah said giggling, "I thought you were less clumsy than that."

I smiled behind the dirt on my face. It was Hannah! "I didn't hear any music, so I thought you had left," I explained.

"Well, I rest sometimes to watch the sunset," she told me as I got up and shook the dust off my clothes. I looked up to see her. She had her blonde hair in a braid and it shimmered like an exquisite necklace in the glow of the twilight. Although she giggled at me, her eyes showed sympathy for me. She turned back to the sun and said, "Why don't you come up here? The view is way better."

I fidgeted. "I've never climbed a tree," I said ashamed.

She shook her head. "Well," she started, "I'll tell you where to step." I put one foot on the lowest split in the tree. She told me to grab onto another branch and pull myself up. I pulled with the little arm strength I had and crawled the rest of the way to her side.

"Good job," she congratulated me, "You didn't die."

"Thanks to you," I replied. I looked to the west. She was right, from up here you get front row seats to the phenomenon that many of us take for granted. The large fireball that gives our planet light, and life, was descending beyond the horizon, allowing the night to rule for the last half of a day. The clouds seemed to stretch out toward the west like they were trying to chase the falling orb. But, the sun was too fast: in a few seconds, it was gone.

"You know," Hannah began, breaking the silence, "It may be the end of the day for us, but somewhere on the other side of the planet, the day has just begun."

"So, when one thing ends, another opportunity comes to light," I concluded.

"Exactly," she said, approvingly.

Then out of nowhere, I asked her, "Hey, why don't I see you in school?"

My random question had slightly taken her aback, then she broke eye contact. "I can't. Not enough coin. My dad was the one providing for us since mom was too sick," she sighed, "But she's strong enough to teach me things. I'm homeschooled, you see."

I realized I asked her a personal question, and by doing so I had made the sparkle in her eyes dim, which was the last thing I ever wanted. "Sorry, I didn't mean to--"

Her sudden laughter made me jump. I looked at her in confusion.

"Honestly, Adam, you say sorry, like, way too much," she joked. I sighed in relief after realizing she wasn't mad at me. For some odd reason, my heart skipped a beat whenever I saw that dreamy smile of hers. I then looked down to my backpack.

"Hey, Hannah," I said, trying to change the subject, "I brought some of my music sheets if you want to--"

"You did?!" she blurted, "of course I want to see them!" I was struck with joy to see how much she appreciated music. She looked over my notes, then would play them on her violin, which would make me feel appreciative and embarrassed at the same time. "How about you make this note a bit higher, or use a different chord here? Just to make the melody sound more cheerful?"

She was right. "Yeah, that's brilliant," I exclaimed, "Okay, that means I will have to adjust the melody in the chorus, and probably up the tempo while I'm at it."

"Yeah, that makes sense," she agreed, "Also, do you have a percussion instrument in this piece?"

"Um, no actually."

"Well," she continued, "A drummer would keep the beat up and add volume to the piece."

"Well," I replied timidly, "The only drummer at school is this quarterback who uses me as his punching bag." I hoped that she would just shrug and give me other ideas instead.

"Okay," she said with confidence, "If he is the only one who plays, then at least you won't have to figure out who is the best drummer in your school! I expect you to ask him for help by tomorrow."

My jaw dropped. "Wh-what? You want me to ask him to perform with me?"

"Yeah, why not?"

She clearly did not understand the meaning of "punching bag". I sighed and realized that I was being stupid about this. I looked at her and said, "I'll do it."

"That's the spirit, Adam!" she gleamed. By now twilight was over and it was too dark to read the music sheets. We climbed off of the tree and headed to civilization. This time I just doing a better job of passing the shrubs quietly, and Hannah was quite pleased with my progress.

We got out of the woods and went our separate ways. I left with a smile and tears in my eyes because of the last thing she said: "See you next time, my friend."

September 07, 2001

I pulled my shirt to unravel the crinkles and took a few deep breaths. I felt like I was entering an interview room, except in this one if you fail, you get a fist in the face.

School had ended for the day and the football players were hard at work training for the playoffs. I scanned the field for the shirt with the number 73 on it. I saw it on the figure of a giant who was sitting on the bench nearest the field. I went up to the figure, my heart beating faster with every lunge. My mind kept telling me to run the other way, lest I become a mashed potato. But, my heart kept forcing my forward, lest I break a promise to my friend.

He had his signature lollipop in his mouth and a grim look on his face. I could see that he was having a bad day, probably because he was booted off the field. But, despite my mind's warnings for my safety, I sat beside him.

"Um," I began, "Hi Clyde." He looked at me and gave a slight chuckle, then turned back to the field. "So," I continued trying to break the ice, "You guys look fit and ready to beat those Jaguars, or Leopards or whatever you call them."

"Wolverines," he finally said in a lower, perturbed voice.

"Wolverines, right, right..." I replied.

He turned to me and asked, "What do you want, Adam?"

A waft of sweat and hormones filled my nose and I blinked, but, despite his aroma and towering aura, I managed to squeak, "I would like a drummer for my piece in the upcoming school concert and I was hoping--"

"That I would be your drummer?" Clyde questioned, looking impatient.

"Yes, would you?" I was getting ready to get plummeted when the muscled quarterback uttered the most unexpected words.

"Sure, why not?" he smiled.

I opened my eyes and put the textbook I was using as a shield down. "Really?"

"Yeah," he said, nodding, "I respect anyone who runs into Old Vio's forest and lives to tell the tale. Plus, I need something to do besides chase a ball all day."

Had he read my mind? I questioned myself.

"So, what are you playing? Rock-and-Roll? Jazz?" Clyde continued.

"Well, not quite," I said, my ambition returning to me, "I'll show you, c'mon."

*********************************************

"Hannah! Hannah, I did it!" I said triumphantly, running to the sound of the violin.

"Good work, Adam," she said with a grin, "I had no doubt that you would." Then, she put a finger on her chin, "Okay, maybe I did think that you would get thrown in the trash. But I would be right here to cheer you up." She chuckled when I pouted and put my hands on my hips. Then, I began to laugh, too. "Alright, so have you two started practicing?"

"Yep, we began a few hours ago. He's a great drummer. Keeps the rhythm and adds a little thing here and there."

"Good going!" she patted me on the back and we climbed up on the old branch. Hannah said that she had come up with a few tweaks to my work. She placed a few supporting notes here and there. Then she inquired about a detail I had not considered. "How about you add vocals to the melody?"

"Vocals, as in... singing?" I questioned back.

"No, Adam. Vocals as in shouting at your dog for stealing that last slice of pizza," she replied sarcastically. I laughed at her joke. She knows the feeling... "But seriously, I say that's the only thing that is missing."

I pondered. I had sung before and there were times that I added lyrics to tunes in my head. Then I mimicked Clyde earlier today, "Sure, why not? I'll start making lyrics as soon as I get home."

"Good to hear!" she was obviously glad to hear that I appreciated her suggestion.

With that, we made our way back out of the forest and to our abodes. I looked to the night sky and made out a few constellations as I walked down the sidewalk. "Wow, this song is really changing my life," I stated. Then, one constellation caught my eye and a shot of inspiration ran through me. I knew what to write about.

Over the next few weeks, I went to that little clearing in the forest to talk with Hannah about the lyrics. She thought my initial idea was good but helped me pan it out. Most of it rhymed, and all of it had an ethereal, yet tangible meaning to it.

On the day before the concert, we felt the masterpiece was complete. Hannah sighed, "Man, I wish I could watch you play."

I looked at her surprised. I felt as if someone had torn out my heart and threw it into a blazing fire as I realized what she meant. "You mean you aren't coming?"

"I will try to but I don't know if my mom will let me stay out that long."

"Please," I begged, "Try to convince her. Besides, I made a part that I would like you to sing."

She looked at me with that same wide-eyed expression she had a month ago. "Wait, really? Let me see." I gave her a redone version of the lyrics sheet and pointed to a section in purple. She started to blush, "Wow, I really didn't think about that... it's beautiful."

"I'm glad you like it, Hannah." I stepped down from the branch. "Now, please," I started, "Come to the concert."

"I will, I promise."

October 07, 2001

"Tonight's, the night," I thought feeling jittery and exhausted simultaneously. The school concert had begun and the musical talent of the teens in our community shone brightly here. I had picked out my finest suit but felt stifled under the fabric frame. So, I took off the suit and left my vest and white shirt on. I looked around the school hall. "No sign of Hannah," I thought feeling gloomy. Then, out of the crowd came Clyde, in a bright-red shirt and black pants. 

"Hey, Adam!" he called from behind a cherry lollipop, "Enjoying the festivities?"

"You could say that, Clyde," I said, still looking through the mass of people.

"Who are you looking for?"

"Oh, nobody. What's up?"

"Well, you were right, 'coach is really impressed with my behavior and has me playing on the field in tomorrow's big game."

Finally, there was some good news tonight. "I always knew that you could do it, Clyde," I grinned, "And what about your mid-term grades?"

"Oh boy, that's the best part. I passed my Math exam and I got an A+ in History. My teachers can't believe it!" he chuckled, "I have you to thank for that, Adam, without those tutoring sessions of yours, I would still be a scholastic bum!"

I laughed nervously. "Hey, don't get all cheesy on me," I replied, "I was just doing what a friend should." I smiled, then thought, "Who much of a friend is Hannah?"

Clyde saw that I was lost in thought. "Hey, Adam," he whispered, "Now is not the time to be thinking about girls."

I jumped back. "What?!" I exclaimed, "I-I wasn't--"

Clyde kneeled over laughing and said, "C'mon, bro, we have a show to put on."

I looked to my program slip. He was right, our song was up next. I hurried to the backstage area and set up the keyboard and microphone, along with an extra microphone to the side, just in case. The master-of-ceremonies began his introduction. "Now, ladies and gentlemen, you may know him as the quiet guy in the corner, but when he is alone, he writes and performs some of the best music our school has come to know."

"Oh, please," Clyde said in the background.

"Here he is," the MC concluded, "Adam R. Young!"

The curtain rose, and I was struck with both spotlight and fear. I knew that Hannah was not coming, her mom would not let her come, and I was left to go on without her guidance and her support. But, at that moment she would not have wanted me to freeze up and become the Adam she tried to train out of me. So, I did it. I pressed my hands on the keyboard and made sound, then the background music track that I asked the light and sound director to play clipped onto the string of sound, and Clyde jumped in to keep the beat. It was then that sound became music. I leaned toward the mic and sung:

https://youtu.be/DqHMF2wMEsg

"Breathe and I'll carry you away into the velvet sky
And we'll stir the stars around
And watch them fall away into the Hudson Bay
And plummet out of sight and sound
The open summer breeze will sweep you through the hills
Where I live in the alpine heights
Below the Northern Lights, I spend my coldest nights
Alone, awake and thinking of... the weekend we were in love."

The crowd started to cheer, they genuinely liked my music. And the words that Hannah and I put together. "Hannah... if only you were here to see this," I thought as I played through the second verse and the chorus. I began to sing a part that felt too real at that moment. As if I was calling out to her:

"Are you there?
Are you there, or are you just a decoy dream in my head?
Am I home or am I simply tumbling all alone?"

At that moment, that most magical, mysterious, and majestic moment, I saw an angel. She had entered the backstage area without the slightest sound and walked gracefully into the spotlight. She wore a white gown with the most elegant embroidery and had her hair in fancy curls. The people were in awe as she took to the floor. But no one, was in more amazement and delight than I was. I sang weakly due to the sight:

"I am floating away"
She sang in an angelic tone, "Floating away..."
"Lost in a silent ballet"
"Silent ballet..."
I regained my confidence, "I'm dreaming you're out in the blue"
In unison, we sang, "And I am right beside you"
"Awake to take in the view
Late nights and early parades"
And her, "Early parades..."
"Still photos and noisy arcades"
She echoed, "Noisy arcades..."
"My darling, we're both on the wing,"
Together, "Look down and keep on singing!"
"And we can go anywhere"
Our voices united once more, "Are you there?"

The crowd stood up and applauded and whistled. I found myself gasping for air as the three of us held hands and bowed. The curtains closed and I immediately grabbed Hannah into my arms.

"Woah, there," she giggled as I spun her around, "I'm getting dizzy! And my dinner is about to say hello..." I put her down and smiled, tears in my eyes. "And now you're going to cry, really brave Adam."

Clyde jumped around. "Guys, this is fantastic," he started, "Did you see how all those girls were looking at me! I'm a total chick magnet with these drumsticks!"

I chuckled. "Alright, Clyde, enough about poultry," I joked, "Go out there and get 'em." Clyde ran down the stairs and into the crowd. I looked back at Hannah. "I thought you wouldn't make it."

"Adam, I wouldn't miss a chance like this if my mom strung me upside down and used me as a piñata!"

I laughed, then with all honesty I said, "You did great, and you look great, and you are great!

She smiled behind blushing cheeks. "C'mon, Adam, don't flatter me so much," she said, "Besides, this is your moment, I'm supposed to be congratulating you. You made an excellent performance, and I'm sure the school will respect you now."

"I didn't do this alone. You were there from the beginning. This is not my night. It's ours." And with that, I hugged her again.

November 29, 2001

It had been a few weeks and Hannah had been helping me with my latest creation. We integrated her violin and it started to sound pretty good. We also became somewhat inseparable. I couldn't go one day without seeing her. I was always eager for school to end so I could spend time with her. We spent most of our days getting to know each other better, telling stories about each other like our most embarrassing moments and simply making each other laugh. 

We learned and created new songs, made our own secret language using our hands, and even carved our initials onto the tree we eventually named "Adannah", a combination of our names. 

Hannah... I didn't know if it was obvious to her or not, but she became my wonderwall. It was simply undeniable.

These were the perfect scenes in my life, the scenes where I felt frivolous, pure bliss, free from agony and suffering. I felt alive. I never wanted it to end. I never wanted to leave her. I never wanted this scene to change.

But something did change.

I had to move. My parents found work in Owatonna, Minnesota and were leaving before the month ended. I had told Hannah but she was not taking it well. 

Today was the last day I could get to see her. I crawled through the forest, which I had found out was named Owl Woods, not that it mattered. I took one last look at the tall pines. Would I ever see these trees again? Would there be a forest I could go to in the afternoon in Owatonna?

I reached the clearing. She was just leaning against the tree, not on the branch like she normally was. She had her violin in hand but was not playing it. Hannah turned to look at me. "Hey," was her only greeting.

"Um, hey," I replied. I stood there beside her. Looking at the ground until the sun was finally gone. I couldn't look at the sun today, I couldn't look at her today, I could not look at anything beautiful today. I turned to her and handed her a box in pretty paper wrapping tied with a bow. "Happy birthday," I said as tears streamed down my face.

"Adam..." she replied and landed full force on my chest. I held her and thought about how much I would miss her care and embrace. She moved away and opened the present. "A necklace?"
"Yeah, in honor of the time we sang on stage." The necklace had a silver chain and, at the center, a wing of a dove.

"You'll call, won't you?" she asked. But she already knew the answer.

"Of course, Hannah. Hopefully, it will only be a few years until I see you again. So, don't run off."

"Don't worry," she said still tearful, "I'll be right here waiting for you."

I tried to act brave while the world I knew crumbled. I asked her to walk with me one last time. She took my hand and we delved into the woods. The night was incredibly bright, with the moon unhindered by clouds. We stepped over twigs and dried leaves, listened to the coos of owls and the chirps of crickets, we saw the nocturnal creatures come to life, moving gracefully and with purpose, and, through it all, we never let go of each other.

The electric lights in the distance felt like a bane to me. But I knew we would eventually reach them. "We're here," I sighed.

"Yeah," Hannah responded with the same emptiness in her voice that I had. "I really hope you like your new school, you're going to be able to try so many new things, and you're going to meet so many new people, new friends and... maybe even a special someone," she said smiling shortly. 

I turned to her in shock, "Hannah, no... how could you say something like that? We've been through so... so..." I broke down again. 

She held my head in her arms and wiped the tears from my face. She said soothingly, "Adam, you know that a long-distance relationship can't last. We may still be friends, but to be together... it just won't work."

In my mind, I knew she made sense. My heart, however, was hers. Anger boiled inside me. "Why did this have to happen, why? WHY?!?" I screamed internally. 

I began to take deep breaths and reason this out. Again, my mind said that she made sense. It was no use trying to fight it. I looked at her diamond blue eyes and said, "Okay, you're right."

She nodded and smiled, "Of course I'm right. Now, Adam, promise me you will stay true to yourself and your music. Please?"

"I promise. I will."

"Good. You can count on the same from me. Shake on it?" She stretched her hand toward me. I put my hand in hers. They still locked perfectly together. She looked at me a while then, trembling, she said, "Goodbye, Adam." She kissed me on my cheek in a blink of an eye then ran as fast as she could down the road. Just like that, she was gone.

"Goodbye, Hannah." 

That was the day I started to hate goodbyes.  

Present Day

It turns out Owatonna, Minnesota was a quite charming little community. It was here that, in the basement of our cozy brick home, I made my hit single, "Fireflies". I became a musical icon, known worldwide for my weird, yet wonderful twist on pop and electronic music. I had everything I had dreamed for. An outlet for my creativity, appreciation for my music, and a solid career. God had blessed me. I had everything. 

But despite that "everything" - after every concert, after spending time with fans, family and friends, after meeting incredible people, after going to places I never imagined I would visit, after dreams came true and joyous memories are created - at the end of the day, this agonizing sadness always seemed to blanket me.

"So, what's missing?" I thought as I lied on the couch of my studio, guitar by my side. I thought, and my thoughts drifted back to a simpler time. A time before Owl City, Sky Sailing or even Owatonna. I thought about Iowa and my old high school, about Clyde, who had become a big-star NFL player, about the genesis of my passion for music, and I thought about her.

"Hannah," I thought aloud. She was right: I had fallen for other girls since her. But I didn't have any deep relationship with any of them. Nothing as special as what I had with her. 

"Why can't I just get up and go see you?" I argued with myself. But deep down inside, I knew the exact reason why.

I was scared. Afraid that if I go visit her, I would come across something I would rather not know. That... she perhaps ended up with someone better than me, someone who made her happier than I ever could. That maybe, she even has children of her own right now. Or perhaps, she would be so angry at me for not coming back and slam the door in my face, our chances of ever being together as slim as air. Or worst of all, she wouldn't even be there anymore because...

"No... she has to... I can't think that... I refuse."

Misery once again flooded my heart like it did every night, so I decided to get some fresh air to ease the pain. As I locked my door and made my way outside, I let my feet guide me while my mind guided me somewhere, anywhere except to her. Along the way, I came across a few fans of mine whom I gladly gave my autograph to and took pictures with, which lifted my spirits immensely, and a little boy who I overheard singing one of my earlier songs "Dental Care" but getting a few of the lyrics wrong, yet it still put a smile on my face.

My smile, however, was short-lived after I finally left cloud land and returned back to the ground where I realized where my feet had taken me to. 

I was now in the vicinity of pine trees, emerald shrubs and the purest of grass. Entering the public forest which was only a few minutes from my house, the imprisoned memories of my time spent with Hannah in Owl Woods finally liberated itself from its chains and was now wandering free in the cities and villages of my mind. They traveled everywhere... everywhere until it was the only thing embedded in my brain, the only thing I was able to perceive. I wanted to turn back, but the memories were too strong and continued to pull me forward. I let my feet follow the pathway which led deeper into the forest, and deeper into my past. 

"I always dreamed of going to New York City," A voice echoed, a voice I knew too well. "To see all the bright lights, malls, monuments, skyscrapers, all kinds of cool people... that's my dream." She smiled dreamily as she floated about in her reverie. "How 'bout you, Adam? What's your dream?"

"To be right by your side while you're at it."

I shut my eyes tight, the memory of our long lost dream slowly returning to the light again. The tears started to take shape and I strolled deeper into the forest away from civilization so I would not receive any funny faces. It was at that moment that I remembered something. 

Owl City. One of the many reasons I had named myself it was because of that dream Hannah and I shared; traveling to the wondrous city of New York. We were so eager to go there that we pretended that the trees of Owl Woods were the towering buildings of New York City. I hadn't realized it until now, but Hannah was the reason for everything. She was the reason I continued to make music and pursued my dream. Without her, none of this would have happened. All of my success, fame, almost everything that has happened to me for the past sixteen years was all because of her. 

Because I made her a promise.

I didn't care if my heart would shatter or burst into flames if I found out about something I wished I hadn't known. I needed to see Hannah despite all the risks. I needed to show my gratitude to her for all that she has done for me. In a rupture of adrenaline, I ran all the way back to my house, quickly packed a few things, and went to my car, not even bothering to tell anyone of my plans. For her words repeated over and over again in my head:

"I'll be right here waiting for you."  

After six hours and two cups of coffee, I finally got to the town and said hello to some of my old friends and neighbors. I asked them if Hannah Mills still lived in town.

"Pfft, you bet," said an elderly woman, "poor girl still resides in her mother's house. Do you know she hasn't gotten married yet? If she waits any longer she'll bec--"

"Uh, thanks," I interrupted, "Do you know where the Mills residence is?" 

"63 South St.," she said a bit annoyed that she was cut off, "You can't miss it, it's the oldest house on the block." I had to chuckle at myself a bit. For all the time I knew her, I never made it a priority to visit her house and meet her mom.

"Heck, I didn't even introduce her to my dad and mom!"

I came to a halt in front of a tidy-looking cottage. It was painted white and had dark green shingles. Despite it looking near 200 years old, the house looked well taken care of and the yard was full of colorful flora. My heart started pounding as I made my way to the door. The same way it pounded as I went up to Clyde sixteen years ago. 

"What would she say when she saw me?" I thought, "Would she slap me in the face and slam the door? Sixteen years is a long time to wait." The door came into focus, and my mind came back to reality. "Here goes nothing," I sighed and knocked on the door.

Nothing.

I knocked again, but still, there was no answer. Had she been so offended by my intrusion that she would not even open the door? "Probably," I thought, feeling defeated. I turned around and had to squint in the setting sun.

"Setting sun? Wait!" I blurted. It was a long shot, but it was worth a try. I got back in my car and sped toward the school. I parked the car as near to the woods as I could, then sprinted through the forest as fast as I could, although not as fast as when I was younger. Déjà vu hit me for the second time. I did not want to keep Hannah waiting. No, not any longer. No one should have to go through what she had to. 

Then, I heard it. It was a miracle. The melody: it was there. I slowed my pace and moved past the remaining trees, half-scared, half-delighted to hear that violin again. 

I saw her. She wore jeans and a red blouse. It was a shade of red that fell perfectly between the orange glow of the sun and darker tint of her violin. Her golden hair fell loosely on her shoulder and face. She didn't seem to grow that much in height, but it only made her look even more adorable. She had not noticed me yet, so I could lean on a tree near the edge of the clearing and listen to her play. It was the song we made together, "On the Wing". I started to hum it and sob quietly as she continued the melody. Then she stopped. I turned to look at her. Her eyes went wide, just like before. 

"Hey Hannah," I said smiling. Her smile grew, and her eyes flooded with tears. The next moment was a complete blur. The only thing I recall is her falling off of the branch and the next thing I know I'm on the ground with her on top of me in my arms. She looked down into my eyes and I in hers. They were still as blue and bright as ever.

"Thanks for catching me there, A-Adam," she replied playfully. All I could do was smile back. Then all of time stopped when her lips greeted mine. Her lips as soft as cotton and as smooth as her shiny, golden hair. To say it was the most magical moment of my life would be an understatement. When we finally got up from the ground, I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and began to say to her my speech I had been preparing while on the way here. But I couldn't find the words. All that came out was:

"Hannah... Hannah... I... love you... so much." All she did was grin, her pearly teeth showing off proudly.

Then, as if the heavens were throwing confetti on us, it started to rain. We looked up and laughed. "C'mon, stranger," she began, "Let's get inside before we catch a cold."

"Oh, but I already have a cold," I said.

"Really? What type of cold?"

"Homesickness."

She laughed. "Well, Adam," Hannah said, "I think I may have the remedy for that."

We both ended up getting a cold and being bedridden. But that was totally fine. Having her in my arms all day was the only cure I needed.