Page 138 of Once Upon a Fable

Hey you?

God, I’d never been so annoyingly frustrated not to know someone’s name. How had I spent a week—has it been a week?—in his company and still not know his damn name?

Give him a nickname.

Something to call him by.

Something to shout when he starts to fade.

Tapping his cheek, I snapped firmly, “Time to wake up...douche bag.”

Maybe something not so derogatory?

“Monster?”

Something that’s actually true and not you trying to convince yourself he is?

“Robert, Charles, Jon freaking Snow?”

Doubt George R.R. Martin would appreciate you plagiarizing one of his most iconic characters.

Placing my hand on his forehead, I paused and quieted the panic in my blood. I had to accept that he most likely wouldn’t make it. My only task now was standing vigil beside him so he wasn’t so alone as he passed away.

Fresh tears cascaded down my face.

I’m so sorry.

I was responsible.

In some sick way, I’d been the cause of all of this.

I was the one who’d trespassed. I was the one who derailed his simple life. I was the one who’d jumped on him while he stood so close to a cliff edge.

“I’m so sorry...whoever you are.” I cried harder. “I wish I knew your name. I wish I could apologize for everything I’ve caused.”

God, what is his name?!

He’d been forgotten by society, hidden from kindness, denied love and connection. He was anonymous to happiness as well as freedom.

Anonymous.

He was forgotten to everyone.

Everyone but me.

The online group that’d posted the boulder I’d been hunting was called Climber’s Anon. They’d brought me here. If only to destroy this man’s final sanity and to hold his hand as he died.

Anon.

That will do.

Cradling his cheek, I bent over him. “Can you open your eyes...Anon? Just give me some sign you can hear me.”

I waited.

I shivered.

Nothing.