A Story That Won't End

Ayla

“Help… me…”

I froze mid-step when I heard the voice. It was coming from the river below the bridge I was crossing. My heart jumped into my throat.

Leaning over the wooden railing just past the concrete guardrail, I squinted toward the water. For a moment, all I saw were ripples and flashes of sunlight.

Then—a hand. A small hand reaching out, followed by the same desperate voice. A boy’s head broke the surface, then vanished again beneath the water.

Without thinking, I bolted down the rocky path to the riverbank. My shoes and backpack flew off as I leapt straight into the freezing water.

It was autumn, and the cold cut through me like glass—but I didn’t care.

The boy was gasping every time he surfaced. I had to get to him.

“Grab my hand!” I yelled, reaching out toward him. He looked younger and smaller than me.

The second his fingers wrapped around mine, I kicked hard, pulling with everything I had until I dragged him to the muddy shore.

We collapsed in a heap, both of us breathless. He curled up, knees to his chest, coughing and shivering.

I sat next to him, squeezing the water out of my hair, my eyes never leaving his face.

He was a chubby kid, with a round face covered in freckles. His skin was pale, lips tinted blue.

“How’d you almost drown?” I asked, still trying to catch my breath.

He didn’t look me in the eye. “I was, uh… looking for a goldfish,” he muttered, voice trembling.

I blinked. “A goldfish? Seriously? In this river? Lemme guess—some older kids tricked you, didn’t they?”

His silence was answer enough.

“Yeah, thought so.” I sighed, then grabbed my backpack and pulled out a jacket. “Here, put this on. It’s my brother’s, so it’s huge, but you’ll freeze if you don’t.”

He hesitated. “Thanks, but… what about you?”

“I’ll be fine,” I said with a shrug, trying to sound tough even though I was shaking like crazy.

He looked at me—really looked—and I could tell he knew I was lying.

But I smiled anyway.

For some reason, seeing him breathe steadily again made me feel bad for him, especially after he admitted he was being messed with.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I thought I was gonna die.”

“God’s kind… at least until we grow up and learn how to get revenge on people who mess with us. Honestly, I’d rather just buy a goldfish.”

He gave a small laugh, even though I wasn’t trying to be funny. I just meant it made way more sense to buy one than fish one out of a river.

“Uh… can I know your name?” he asked softly.

“Hope,” I said. “What about you?”

“River.”

**

“River! Hey—daydreaming again?”

My voice broke the silence as we drove across the same bridge six months later.

River stared blankly out the window, lost in thought.

He blinked and turned to me. “Huh? Oh… sorry,” he mumbled with that shy smile I knew so well.

I sighed. “We’re five minutes from the airport and you’ve barely said a word.”

He shrugged. “Guess I’m just… thinking.”

“Thinking? About what? Your epic goldfish adventure?” I teased with a grin.

“Very funny,” he muttered. “I just… I’m sad you’re leaving.”

That hit me. I looked at him, my voice softening. “Hey, I’m not going to another planet. It’s just Sicily. You know we can still text, right?”

He chuckled, but the sadness didn’t leave his face. “Yeah, but it’s not the same. You’re my best friend, Hope. Who else is gonna save me from the jerks at school?”

“Um, maybe you?” I nudged him. “Try standing up for yourself a little. But hey—I’ll still check in on you. And don’t go looking for goldfish without me, got it? Promise?”

“Promise. But you better come back a lot.”

“I promise.”

Then it all happened at once.

The car jolted hard—brakes screeched. We were thrown forward, my head snapping.

“What the heck, Claude?!”

“Miss Marsh—down!”

Glass shattered. Something hot sliced across my forehead. Blood. I touched it, stunned, then ducked as another gunshot rang out.

I turned to River, crouched beside the seat, shaking. I put a hand on his shoulder, trying to keep us both calm.

“I’m scared, Hope,” he whispered.

“Look at me,” I said firmly. “Sing Never Say Never as loud as you can. Come on, River. Now.”

River—my super-scared little buddy who I always made sing when he panicked—squeezed his eyes shut as I grabbed his hand.

He started softly. I joined in, trying to drown out the gunfire with our voices.

Claude yelled from the front, “Hold on, Miss! We’ll take care of them—stay in the car!”

“Call my dad!” I screamed. “Damn it, where’s my phone?”

I dug through my bag—gone. Panic gripped my chest. We were only ten years old. We couldn’t do anything but hide and hope.

“We’re gonna die, aren’t we?” River’s voice shook.

“No. No, we’re not,” I said. “We still have to swap stories tomorrow, remember? You can’t die before that.”

Then silence.

And then—

“There are two kids in the backseat.”

That voice wasn’t anyone I knew. My stomach flipped. Claude wasn’t moving. His clothes were soaked in blood.

I barely had time to scream before someone yanked me out of the car. A man dragged me toward a black van.

I kicked like crazy, but he just grunted and slung me over his shoulder.

“Let me go! My dad’s gonna destroy you for this!” I shouted, thrashing.

“Shut up, kid! You’re worth a fortune,” he growled.

I bit his shoulder. He cursed and dropped me. I bolted, desperate to get back to River.

But something hard smashed into the side of my head.

Everything blurred.

I couldn’t breathe. My legs gave out. River’s face flashed in my mind—scared, helpless.

“River… I’m sorry,” I whispered, right before the darkness swallowed me.