Bound - Story

Short story I wrote for an application, thought you might enjoy it.
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I look into the mirror as I get ready for my day. As I button my shirt I notice the chain around my neck. This necklace has been with me for as long as I can remember, I have gotten so used to it, I almost forgot its existence. I touch the necklace, running my fingers across its bumps and ridges. A name finally comes to my mind. Alyssa, I think it was.

I grab my coat as I leave for work. It’s a rather mild winter’s day, big snowflakes are fluttering down. I imagine myself walking in a giant snow globe. My cellphone rings, it’s my boss, a rather hulky man. His voice bellows as he speaks.

“Hey kid! I have this client and his daughter is coming in to discuss our contract with them…” his voice fades away. I am lost in thought about the necklace and about Alyssa.

Memories flash through my mind. I remember a swing set; I remember pushing her on the swing, hearing her laugh, and laughing with her. I remember loving her at some point in my life. Subconsciously my right hand lingered around my neck. My boss interrupts my thoughts.

“Are ya listening? She’s around your age, you’d relate better. Don’t mess this up kid and you’ll be going places here.”

“Yes Sir.”

He quickly adds, “She’s in the conference room right now.”

I nod, agreeing to whatever my boss has just said. It isn’t like I have a choice anyways; I am bound.

I race to the conference room and a young blonde meets my eyes. With an outstretched hand she says, “Hi, my name’s Alyssa.”

Alyssa, I stare at her with disbelief, unsure of coincidences. I look down around her neck and there was that same chain staring at me. I loosen my tie and undo my collar. She stares at me, confused by my actions. But I yank out that chain and show her it. The thing that has kept me bound

“I finally remember,” I said to myself really, “Do you?”

She touches her necklace, “…Vincent?...”

I nod silently, “I said I’d wait for you to come back.”

She sighs a breath of remorse, “It’s been 16 years… Vince, we were only 10 then.”

Again, I silently agree with her and look at her with yearning eyes, hoping she remembers our promise.

Sensing my unfaded affection she adds, “Vincent, honey, I’m engaged.” She shows me her hand as if to solidify the truth; the ring stands boldly, daring me to challenge it.

I hold the chain in my hand, winding it with my fingers. Finally I take hold of it and rip it from my neck. I take her hand and slithered the chain into her open palm. “That’s okay,” I whisper to her, “Because the friendship between me and you… I will not compare to this chain; for that it may rust and break in the rain.”