Mundelein High School - Voices Magazine - 2020

V o i c e s 2 0 2 0 | 23
Memory Postcard
Amy Tellez
Outside of my house, we have a bench that swings. It’s pretty old now. If you
swing too high you could fall off. Before I met Fynn, the only thing that passed through
my mind when I saw the rusted swing was, “I hope my dad takes it down soon. It’s a
hazard.” Apparently, I was very concerned about safety before I met Fynn. Before I fully
emerge into the story about how a broken down, rusty swing became the most
precious, important thing in my life, let me introduce you to Fynn Bailey Mark. I met him
4 years ago at Disneyland. Oddly enough we started talking because we were both left
to wait while our families went on rides. We initially bonded over the fact that roller
coasters are awful. We were both 100% sure that they were made by a physco. We
clicked instantly and we were both a little sad that our family came off the death
machine because then we needed to say bye to each other. As I walked off, Fynn came
up behind me and asked for my Snapchat. I looked over at my mom to make sure it was
okay, she nodded and I happily gave it to him. He became my best friend. It was
another one of those things that was like, “You’re socially awkward? Bro, same!” If I’m
being honest, I’ve never felt like a better match with someone. He was the best person.
We never argued. (If we did it was over what band was better or which celebrity is better
looking. Typical for teens) Skipping forward 2 years to 2016, Fynn came from Florida to
Chicago to surprise me for my birthday. Of course, I was beyond happy. He was the only
person missing from the fantasy of a birthday party that I was conjuring in my head. I
ended up not having a birthday party that year but Fynn still stayed and we just enjoyed
the time that we had together. We went to the different parks and played board games
there, and visited The Bean. We hit every huge spot in Chicago, as well as some of my
personal favorite places in Chicago.
The day before he was supposed to fly back, we sat on the broken down, rusty
swing. Fynn sat first, I remember hearing the swing squeak and Fynn saying, “Is this
safe?” In a joking manner. His face always lit up whenever he laughed or smiled.
Something I’ll never be able to unsee. I sat next to him and we talked, the same way we
always did. (Some offensive jokes, jokes about ourselves, memes, and everything inbetween)
It was complete bliss in that moment. The nice orange sky above us making
the scene seem like we were in a movie. It was the last time Fynn was able to come to
Chicago. We were planning on him coming a year later but one day I noticed Fynn
hadn’t called me all day. Which was unusual. He always called me around 6 or 7. I went
to bed that night full of questions. Was he okay? Maybe he wasn’t feeling well. No, he
always calls me, no matter the mood. The next morning around 8, I received a call
coming from Fynn’s phone. I was at school at that time but I asked to go to the