Fallen Leaves

 Hello, a little note before we get into the story! This was written 4 years ago using the prompt: Write a story about characters finding a time capsule. I also think it would be interesting if you tried to write a story with the first sentence being “How long has it been?”

But please enjoy this little blast from my past in this beautiful fall weather! 

“How long has it been?” I say as our feet crunch through the leaves.

“I'm not sure, five years?” He pushes a branch out of the way and lets me pass before following behind. 

“No way, it's definitely been longer than that.” A cold breeze cuts through the forest. Leaves cascade to the ground. 

“I'm not sure then.” He walks up beside me and sticks his hands into his pockets. I consider offering him my scarf. 

“It was when we were in 7th grade, right?” He keeps his eyes trained on the ground. I keep my eyes trained on his brown hair and flush cheeks. 

“So, 5 years.” He looks over at me as he speaks. I almost trip over a rock, but he reaches out to catch me in time. 

“Really?” The word leaves with my breath. His hands are cold, but I don't want to pull away. 

“Yeah, we are seniors now. It's been five years.” Why does he always have to be right? 

“I guess I still can’t believe that we are seniors.” We continue to walk in silence. It feels like each step brings me closer to when we were kids. I look down at the dead grass; it used to be alive. It used to embrace our bare feet like a warm hug, erasing our footprints as the earth sponged back into place. It always grew back. 

Now the trees we used to climb hand limply, snapped in half by the wind or death. 

“I think we are almost here,” he says. 

The woods open into the once lush opening. It once felt so magical, as if there was glitter floating through the air as we pretended to be pirates, villains, or monsters. I am starting to wonder if the sparkle was ever there or if it could only be seen with kid eyes. He starts walking around the area.

“Do you remember where it was buried?” I start to wonder if we even got the right place, or if we were transported to a different world, away from the one I remember. 

He crouches into the ground and pulls out a shovel. 

“Over there, no?” he points across the clearing, to the space just under what used to be our favorite tree. It was like any other tree in the forest, but to us, it was the best. I walk over and run my hand over the letters still carved into the trunk.

“It's a miracle it’s still standing.” My words get lost in the wind as he shoves his shovel into the hard ground. I turn around as he digs, tossing the dirt to the side. 

He looks up at me and says, “I feel something.”

After about another minute of digging, he grabs the old Pringles container poking up through the dirt. He hands it to me and wipes the sweat from his forehead.

I brush it off and see the messy letters we wrote on there so long ago.

Julia’s and Nathan's time capsule. DO NOT OPEN IF YOU ARE NOT JULIA OR NATAN. 

“I remember when we made this.” I turn it over in my hands. The red paint is now a shade of brown. 

“You mean when you made it? You wouldn't let me put anything in there without it being approved by you.” He says while rolling his eyes. 

“Not true! I didn't read your letter.”

He snatches the container from my hands and pops off the lid. The 5-year-old stale air puffs out, as if still continuing the magic that this place once held. 

I grab the first thing I see.

“Look, it's the little stickers we used to put on each other's shirts.”

He takes the capsule back as I look over the stickers. I print one off and stick it on his shirt before he pulls out our letters.

“We should probably wait to read this until we have everything out.” I nod. As he pulled out a toy car, he added in.

“Oh my gosh, you would never go anywhere without that!” He runs the wheels over his hand. 

He then pulls out our old friendship bracelets.

"Here, let me put this on you.” I try to fix it to his wrist, but it doesn't fit.

“Looks like I’ve grown since 7th grade." I let the bracelet fall back into the can where it sinks to the bottom. “Well, I guess we should read out letters now.”

He hands me my letter, and I peel off the old sticker that was keeping it closed.

As we read, I hear little laughs as he taps into the mind of his younger self. I don't laugh though. I actually almost scream. 

I'm frozen in fear at what I am reading, and I don't know how to react. Because I lied. Apparently, I had read his letter.

I look up in fear at the person I used to call my best friend and start to run.