A chilling wind blows through the park, causing whatever leaves that still hung on to their trees to finally fall. It's the beginning of winter, and wool-clad family and couples are milling about the park. I smile at the sight of older siblings as they teach their little brothers or sisters to skate on the lake, at the sight of couples as they hug each other on the benches. It's the heartwarming scenes that makes me feel calm in the otherwise busy city. I continue walking to my destination: Amity Cafe. The cafe stands alongside many other shops located in a single building in the park. As soon as I step in, I'm greeted by a blast of warm air.

"Welcome to Amity Cafe!"

The the perky employees all sing out the same greeting to all of their customers. I smile as I take a seat near the cafe's special feature: a piano. For as long as I could remember, the piano music has always calmed me down. I couldn't quite recall what exactly made me drawn to the instrument, but it didn't matter much.

The music is soothing, the perfect thing to unwind during the weekend. For a moment, I just close my eyes, drinking in the notes. The music suddenly stirs up an image in my mind. Before I can linger on it, an irritated voice snaps me out of my daydreams.

"Excuse me, ma'am, are you going to order something?"

The waitress's eyes bore into me, not wanting me to crowd the space if all I'm going to do is sit around where paying customers can be. I give a sheepish smile as I order hot chocolate and their special Marshmallow Dream cookies. A soft chuckle alerts me to the pianist. When he turns to look at me, still playing, I realize that the pianist was different.

"You like the music?" he asks as his fingers dance across the keys.

"Yeah," I reply, looking away as I feel my cheeks become warm. "I love to hear piano."

"Can you play?"

"No, but I would like to learn eventually."

His attention turns back to the piano for a moment, a quick flurry of notes being played. "Maybe I can teach you sometime."

"Sorry, but I don't have the time to learn nowadays."

"You say you're busy." he says with a slight smirk. With a few more notes, he finishes the song, earning applause from the customers. He begins to play another one, a slow, popular love song.  "Yet you're here instead of doing something time-consuming."

I shrug as a steaming paper cup and a small plate of cookies are delivered to my table. "It's a small luxury that I allow myself. Right after this, I'm off to writing essays again."

"How interesting."

As much as I like the music, it wasn't worth the awkward feeling I get from talking with the pianist. I call a waitress to prep my food to go. I tuck my paper bag of still-warm cookies into my messenger bag and carry the cup before leaving the cafe.

I sit at a bench facing the lake and watch the skaters glide across the lake as I eat my snack. I know that it was probably rude to just leave like that, but I couldn't help it. I was never the social type of person. I was the kind of person that most people labeled as loners. Which was why I didn't have many friends. I sigh as I throw my trash away and head home.

As I walk on the snow-covered sidewalk that would lead me home, I ponder on why I enjoy the piano music so much. It must have been because someone played it before, right? I skim through all the people I was close to, but none of them could play it. I focus on the image that I saw earlier in the cafe.

Suddenly, the picture became clearer. I was in some kind of shanty-like structure in a forest. Sunlight came between the tree leaves, warming me as I walked under it. I was following someone too. He turned back to grin at me.

HONK!!

A car horn shatters the image in my mind. I glare at it as it drives away in the distance, unaware of what it had done. Eyebrows knitted in frustration, I try to focus in what the person looked like, only to end in failure. I continue walking to my home, wondering who it was.

A strong gust of wind makes me pull my scarf closer to my neck before hugging my arms. Alone on the sidewalk, I suddenly get an overwhelming sense of loneliness. I should've been used to it, since I basically took the route home alone everyday. Yet now, it felt as if it wasn't always like this. I felt like someone did use to walk with me, but what
happened to that person? A part if me told me that whoever was in that image was the same one.

After a few more minutes, I finally reach my home. It's a small building that belonged to a good friend of my mother's. The friend has long since left, but because of complicated reasons, didn't decide to sell it. She was more than happy to have someone use it while she was busy with other matters.

I push open the door and quickly close it afterwards, not wanting to invite more snow into the otherwise clean interior. I immediately go to do my homework for the weekend, temporarily banishing the thoughts of the image. The flow of words to my mind effectively grabs my full focus. When I finish my essay hours later, I look up to see that it's night already.

"Ten ' o'clock, huh?" I mumble. Late nights are things that I am accustomed to. After all, the endless homework from school never fails to lessen my sleep. Nonetheless, I still have time before the internet crawls to a stop.

I quickly pull out my laptop, an old but still usable model. I go to my social networking apps, trying to find an image that could jog my memory. The closest thing I could find to anything is an image of my family posing in the forest surrounding the town of my old house. I remember playing there before when I was bored, but no memories of having playmates show up. I actually consider asking my parents if they remember me ever bringing a friend home before realizing that they'll think that I'm crazy for asking them something like that in the dead of night.

I give up and just go to bed, lying on my back as I stare at the ceiling. Why is it even so important that I remember who it was anyway? I close my eyes as I recall childhood memories. I remember walking home everyday, but wasn't I alone each time? Yet I recall saying goodbye to someone each time before I went inside. Whenever I was bullied before, I would stay wherever I was and cry because I felt alone. Then I would feel better because someone was comforting me. But it contradicted what the guidance counselor said when she told my parents about how she saw me alone against the walls of the corridor. My parents would tell me that I we moved because of how bad they felt when they saw me all alone in the playground, but I remember someone pushing me on the swing set and sitting on the other end of the seesaw. With each memory, I hear the phantom of a tune in my mind. It only gets louder and more vibrant as more childhood memories are thought of. In the forest, at home, at school - each memory seems to have that mysterious person in it.

But who was it?

No matter how much I try, I can't find a name. After a long time, I realize that it's almost midnight. I force myself to trudge over to the light switch before collapsing on the bed. I close my eyes and continue my thoughts as I slowly drift off to sleep. Suddenly, a clear scene somes, but my mind is too sleepy to distinguish it as a dream or as an actual memory,

"Come on!"

He smiles at me as he grabs my wrist, pulling me along the path. He laughs as I tell him to slow down. He pulls me away from the usual path, leading me to who knows where. We run deep into the forest, and he only stops when we reach a small pavilion. Long vines droop down from the roof and small flowers are blooming around it. In the center of it is a grand piano. My young mind doesn't bother wondering why there's even such a thing in the middle of the forest, it simply accepts it. He grins and promptly sits down on its cushioned chair, finally letting go of me. I take a seat on a wooden stool a few feet away from it.

"Hey, this is a new song I made, okay?"

Without another word, his fingers begin pressing the keys, creating a beautiful chain of notes. He continues playing, and my young self clasps her hands in happiness. The notes echo through the pavilion, probably even into the woods. But my young self doesn't care. Her only interest is the pianist and his music. When the boy stops, I smile and clap.

"That was really nice!"

The boy gives me a strange look as he looks down at the piano. "You really think so?"

"Of course I do!" I exclaim.

"Well, I'm happy that you do," he says, smiling back. He says something just loud enough for me to hear. "Because I made it for you."

I blush a bit. "Th-thanks."

"Do you...want me to play something else?"

I readily nod and he begins playing a classic. He continues playing the song as I softly sing the lyrics. He lifts his head and smiles softly at me, and I smile back.

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A/N: I can't believe that I wrote something as sappy as that. I don't even know why I wrote something as sappy as that. Oh, well. I guess that it doesn't matter anyway. Thanks for reading this! Votes are appreciated! See ya!