Memories In The Mist

I remember standing in the middle of a road in the middle of nowhere. The mist had rolled in and was so thick one couldn't see the face of a person standing in front of you. I always loved the mist for it's mysterious nature. People say strange things happen in the mist, horror movies claim mystical monsters and vengeful ghost will come and kill those in their path. I don't think that at all. What lives in the mist for me is memories and not spirits, but the essences of those people who live on in those memories. These people are not dead, but many of them only exist for me in my memories. In the mist I saw a strange shape and as I approached it turned out to be a massive beautiful oak tree. As I sat under it I began to reflect on those people or essences who live on in my memories. I closed my eyes and began thinking of all the people who had changed my life in good ways and bad ways and slowly drifted into a deep sleep.

I woke up or maybe I was still in dreaming, but it doesn't really matter I was back under that oak tree in the middle of the mist. I thought of my best friend from kindergarten, my first crush, my first boss, my sister and my grandparents. The funny thing about memories is those you haven't seen in many years remain frozen in the age you last remember them in. They are truly immortal forever five years old, forever that innocent thirteen year old girl, living forever in that age only to you. I began to ponder what they'd look like today, if they were happy, how my life would have been different if I was still growing up with them. The harder I tried to imagine this the images of them in the mist slowly faded away disappearing into that mysterious abyss.

I woke up to the cries of my fiancee and her best friend yelling from the road through the mist calling to me.
"Timothy! Timothy! Where are you?"
"Over here under the tree I was just resting..."
"Well come on we are heading to town we're going to be late, you know we've got a lot to plan for the wedding and I've brought along Wendy to help us out with the cake and flowers."
"I know one second!"
I thought of all the people in my life the ones of my memories, the ones who taught me to care, to stand up for myself. As I began to walk through the mist towards the voice of my fiancee I looked back and saw the pretty eyes of that innocent thirteen year old girl. Forever thirteen only to me, the girl I hardly even remember her name, but always remember the eyes, the face, the long hair, the one who taught me to love. As I reached my fiancee and she took me into her arms I looked over her shoulder and saw the face of the girl smile as she slowly faded into the mist. That's the funny thing about memories and the mist for me, it's in these times that I feel I can live in both the past and present and as I saw the face of that girl disappear the only thing I could think of was all my life had offered me and all that would come. All those future people I didn't even know who would join the essences of the mist, most who I would never see but would live on forever, frozen, immortal only to me.

Inspiration For the Struggling Writer

I like the idea of a writer being haunted by his own creation, especially if the writer resents the way the character defines him.
Bret Easton Ellis