Someone's Memory

I cried a lot when I was little. My parents, who were executives at a large company, didn't even care about how to look after me. On weekends when kindergarten was closed, perhaps it was a nuisance to have me at home, because they would hand me a ticket as if doing me a favor and send me off to the amusement park.

Until I was seven, I liked being alone. I didn't care about the amusement park or anything else.

"I hate everything..."

Whenever a bodyguard asked if I wanted to ride something, I would just glare at them. Eventually, they stopped talking to me, and I could be left alone.

Maybe the amusement park was too big an event for a child like me who didn't have a single friend even at kindergarten. Even in a sanctuary for children like that, I just stayed huddled in a corner. I thought I'd be alone like this until I died. Or maybe it would be better to just die, I thought.

That's when someone spoke to me.

It was a boy my age. Even though I spat out nothing but irritable, thorny words, he readily reached out his hand and asked to play together.

He was kind. So very kind.

For some reason, just talking to him a few times made my heart melt. For the first time in my life, I felt a sense of fulfillment that I had never received even from my parents. Before I knew it, I was following right behind him.

He was different from other kids. He didn't look at me like I was strange for being alone. He even promised to be my first friend after hearing my story.

Since there weren't many rides two seven-year-olds could go on at the amusement park, he led me to a ride called the carousel.

When I was alone, I didn't want to know about rides. I hated this place that felt like the polar opposite of my miserable life; it only made my wretchedness grow. Besides, the boy told me that the carousel wasn't that exciting and that the dangerous-looking rides adults rode would be much more fun. But...

"I'm happy..."

That day, I definitely felt happiness for the first time in my life.