Sasha's habit of visiting McDonald's was unhealthy to both him and his wallet - that's what I kept telling him. Perhaps my words would've had more impact if I hadn't always agreed to go with him.

I hadn't planned to remember it. But now I couldn't get the memory out of my head, to the point where my food refused to go down and I gave half of my fries to Sandra. My friend did everything to keep me in a light mood. She bristled up like a bitter old lady when I told her about the message from a stranger I'd received on Facebook. Her funny acting calmed me enough to forget my uneasiness.

"But let's be serious again," she said without pause. "Yesterday my brother said I wear too much purple. Like, can you believe him?"

I gave a half-smile. "Maybe he's never seen your closet?"

"Or my entire room!" Sandra roller her eyes dramatically. "Otherwise he'd have kicked the bucket a long time ago." Sandra without purple was not Sandra. It was unquestionably her favorite color and she was not afraid to admit it. Even the toilet seat in their home was purple and I'm pretty sure Sandra had something to do with it. "And he himself walks around in black like some emo-wannabe. I've never gone all fashion-police on him!" She slurped her cola thoughtfully. "I should give him a few pairs of purple socks for Christmas and guilt trip him into wearing them. That would be fun."

I was eating a fry, or more like tasting rather than eating it. "At least you have a brother." Since I'd grown up an only child, I never knew what it felt like to have siblings. I wondered if it was anything like growing up with a best friend.

"Yeah, extremely awesome," the girl said with fake sarcasm. "You know, he didn't even recognize the song Purple in a Prison Tower."

I raised a brow. "The what?"

Her mouth fell open in disbelief. "You, too? What's up with people nowadays?"

The lights overhead flickered and went out for a second. Sandra kept slurping her drink, eyeing the lamps accusingly. "I'm guessing they don't know Purple, either."

I laughed, quietly and somewhat halfheartedly - it was the best I could muster up for now. "I'm pretty sure the lamps don't know Purple."

When the lights began flickering again a few moments later, I looked toward the counter. They were acting funny in the whole restaurant, not only over our heads. The employees stared at the ceiling, some moved around as if looking for the source of the problem, obviously not knowing what they're supposed to do.

Sandra got up. "I'll make a trip to the bathroom before lights go out completely. Wouldn't want to sit there in darkness."

I took a sip from my drink and picked up another fry while watching the confused and tired expressions of young employees as they tried to understand what was going on. Just then, out of nowhere, something bumped heavily into my side. Startled, I grabbed the edge of my seat and looked up at the man who quickly straightened up and apologized. He rushed away before I could say anything myself.

I realized my heart was hammering; the uneasiness had been scared out of me again.

Sandra slid back into her seat, staring at the doors with a raised eyebrow. "What was that?"

I shrugged. "Guess he was in a hurry and..." My words fell away as I realized something.

My wallet. I'd left it on my tray. It was gone.

I grabbed my bag to search for it, thinking maybe I forgot I put it away myself. But it wasn't there, either.

"What's going on?"

I cast a panicked look her way. "My wallet was on my tray."

The girl understood immediately. She looked back at the doors where the man had exited, wide-eyed. "That son of a..."

The lights began flickering once again, this time not in a subtle rhythm, but going on and off in an angry tempo. Sandra got up and rushed toward the doors. She stepped outside and looked around, but the thief had probably run off by now.

The lights went out. Someone screamed. Someone else murmured in an annoyed voice. Somewhere at the other end of the restaurant, kids began laughing.

Sandra returned, annoyed. "I guess you should have your cards closed. That damned..." She sighed. "Did you have much cash there?"

I shook my head. I never had too much cash on me, since I usually paid with my debit card. But my ID card had also been there. And what more, I realized, a picture of Sasha. He'd dyed his hair blue with a temporary hair spray and was posing with a huge teddy bear, making it look as if they were going to kiss. I had printed it out without telling him and he'd tried to snatch it back a couple of times. I'd told him I would just print it out again. But due to a computer error I'd lost the photo for good.

I shook my head to disperse the memory. I then understood that the room was a bit too dark, although the windows were wide. Grey clouds had at some point covered the sky, blotting out the sun completely.

I got the sudden urge to get away from there. It was too dark and something about it felt ominous. I told Sandra about my feelings and she didn't ask any questions, instead took away our trays. We were just about to step outside when a loud bang, shattering of glass and the following silence stopped us dead in our tracks. 

One of the lights had exploded.

I ran out into the stuffy weather which promised rain.

. .. ... .... .. .... ... .. .

I was in seventh grade when I realized I had a crush on Aleksander.

Our class organized a dance party in the school assembly hall and although we were just friends, we went together like a couple. I was wearing a cerulean dress, he a black suit with a blue tie that almost matched my attire. His dark hair was gelled and combed back. It all made him look so different from the boy I had known all these years. I laughed and said he was funny. He said I was beautiful.

When we were dancing in the dim hall, instead of looking funny, he was mystical and handsome. Like a familiar stranger. His dark clothing and hair, jet black in the little light, made his skin look almost white - and that was a big thing, considering I was quite a fan of Twilight at the time. His eyes, a mix of brown and green, were fixed on me the whole time, making it impossible to look away.

Only when the song ended and he let go of me did I notice my hammering heart and the strange sensation in my stomach. But it was a good feeling.

I knew what it meant, but kept it secret. I'd heard people talking about how confessing love to your best friend can set the friendship in danger. So even though I couldn't imagine anything bad coming between us, I was afraid to let him know. Two years passed like that, all the while my feelings for him grew.

On the spring break of ninth grade, at a classmate's house party, things changed.

Aleksander had had more drinks than me. For a long time, he was sitting with the other boys in the far corner of living room, chatting and laughing and drinking beer. I didn't want to be the only female in the group and thus stayed away, instead spending time with girls I'd barely talked with before. Somehow I'd never fitted into any group of friends, although I got along with everyone in my class. It was different with Sasha. He attracted new friends like a magnet.

An hour had passed until Sasha suddenly came to me, asking if I wanted to go outside with him for some fresh air. The room was dense with hookah smoke, so I gladly agreed. Sasha then draped his arm heavily over my shoulders, his step mirroring his drunkenness. It was still cold outside at that time of the year, but we were too lazy to look for our jackets, so we sat on the low stair steps with only sweatshirts to keep us warm.

A long moment went by in silence, until he said my name. When I looked into Sasha's eyes, I saw more clear determination than I'd expected. And then he kissed me. Not carefully, waiting for my response before proceeding, as I had imagined it many times before. He was forceful and kind of awkward, as if he wasn't quite sure how it's supposed to be done.

I was too surprised to say anything for a while. Eventually, I forced out a small laugh and asked if his friends made him do it. Sasha looked at me like he didn't understand what I was saying, shook his head and leaned closer again, this time resting his forehead on my shoulder. Moments later, he'd fallen asleep.

I led him back inside and upstairs to a bedroom. It was quite a challenge, considering he could barely stand. But he seemed to fall to sleep once again as soon as he hit the bed. I sat next to him, unintentionally bringing my hand to my lips. It had been my first kiss. As far as I knew, it had to be his first, too. I'd been hoping for this for so long, and although reality had been far from my romantic dreams, I felt happy. And afraid. And unsure.

"Katrin," I suddenly heard Sasha's quiet voice. His eyes were closed, but his hand gently gripped my wrist. "I've always wanted to do it." He pulled my hand to his chest. "To kiss you."

To tell the truth, the days that followed were indeed a bit awkward. The first days after we officially called ourselves a couple were, too. But Sasha admitted to having crush on me since fifth grade, and that erased all my doubts.

I remember thinking about how people say that those who stay together with their first love are lucky. I had been certain it would be the same with us.

. .. ... .... .. .... ... .. .

"You sure you don't want to stay for the night?" Sandra asked, maybe for the sixth time. We'd watched two movies at her place and managed to empty two big bags of chips, followed by some rumor sharing and playing durak too many times to count, until it was getting too late. The rain had stopped only a short while ago and I hoped that if I left now, maybe the next wave wouldn't hit me.

I shook my head. "Sorry, I'm not in the mood of sharing bed with your granny."

"Don't worry, she doesn't snore! I think."

Of course I wouldn't actually have had to share the bed with anyone. But Sandra's parents had promised to return very early in the morning - with her grandmother. Sandra's father would have his birthday soon, which meant that all their elder relatives were slowly getting ready for party. I didn't want to wake too early myself, and I definitely didn't want to spend the breakfast in an awkward silence - or worse, getting questions like how I feel, and listening to how sorry they are that my life sucks.

"Maybe another time," I offered, although a part of me did want to stay.

I reached the bus stop just in time. I had to ride without a pass, since my green card had also been in my wallet. By the time I stepped off the bus, the rain had come back, although lighter this time. I pulled the hood over my head and hurried the rest of the way to my apartment building.

Once inside, I put the water boiling for some tea. The lemon tea from morning was still half unfinished and I poured it down the sink. Casting a hesitant look at my laptop, I took a moment before opening its lid. I found myself slightly nervous while checking my Facebook, but I had no new messages. Sighing in relief, I finished making my tea. Then, grabbing a book off the nightstand, I made myself comfortable on the bed.

A cold shiver made me reach for my plaid blanket. My hand stopped in midair, though, once I realized something was amiss. The window was open. Curtains were closed, but the soft movement of fabric revealed there was a breeze. I stared at it, thinking back. I was sure I hadn't left the window open when I went to meet up with Sandra. In fact, I hadn't opened it at all that day or the day before. And to be completely honest, I was almost sure the window had also been closed when I got home only minutes ago. The cup with my morning lemon tea had been on the windowsill. I would've noticed if the window was open.

I slowly pulled the curtain back and saw the window was open just a crack. Enough for someone to stick their hand in. But I lived on the third floor and this building didn't have balconies.

But right there on the windowsill was my wallet, with a small piece of paper with a shredded edge. On it were three words in black ink:

I caught him

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Author's Note:

For clarification, the song  Purple in a Prison Tower is something I remember from my music classes at primary school. Some old folk song I guess. I don't know if it originates from Estonia or somewhere else, and I translated the title myself, because I couldn't find any information on it in English.

Again, it would be much helpful if you could leave some feedback and correct any errors I may have made. English is not my first language, and although I feel somewhat confident in it, I want to improve and I know I have much room for it :)