Indebted to a Postcard

I was driving around town on a Sunday. The town of Riverton to be exact. I had just moved here a few weeks ago with my uncle. I was really glad that he had picked this place. It was quaint and quirky as most small towns are. This one had an aura of sophistication mixed in with the pure innocence it emitted. I found that fascinating. I drove past a large structure at the edge of town. I immediately recognized it as the aquarium that Riverton was famous for. A few mornings ago when I was at the convenient store near the harbor, I had seen numerous post cards for visitors to take back so they could spread the word of tiny little Riverton. A lot of those post cards had the name and picture of this aquarium. I glanced at my watch and inferred that I had enough time to go in and walk around a little. Besides, I didn't have much else to do besides get home in time to cook dinner for Uncle Brady. 

I initiated a U-turn and drove back the way I came until I found the turn that would lead me into the aquarium parking lot. I found a parking spot quickly because the lot was mostly empty. Slow day, probably. I got out of my old but functional car and walked towards the entrance. I stepped through the double doors and let my eyes roam over the place and adjust to the difference in lighting. Outside, the sun was shining relentlessly but in here, it was as dark as dusk and tinged with blue. I supposed they wanted to mimic the color and feel of being underwater. I liked that. I started walking around, scanning through the little bits of information they provide below each tank and then just watching the fish. I appreciated the vivid colors of the coral put at the bottom of the tanks.

"Hey," a voice sounded behind me, making me jump.

I turned around and saw a dark haired boy in a light blue T-shirt. On the T-shirt was the name of the aquarium and a small picture of a clownfish. "Hi," I said.

"Liking the angelfish?" He asked, gesturing to the tank I had been staring at for a while now.

"Yeah, they're beautiful. You work here?"

"I volunteer," the boy answered.

"Wow! That's cool. You're likely to win best summer job at school," I said, smiling. 

He laughed. "Yeah. I like it here. It's peaceful and more rewarding then printing receipts at a convenient store. I'm Mark by the way."

"Stacy."

"Are you new in town? Or just visiting? I've never seen you around here before."

"I just moved in a couple of weeks ago actually. My uncle wanted to leave the city and get started on the whole 'small town life' thing."

"So, you liking what you see?" He asked, running a hand through his hair.

I was silent for a while.

He flushed. "I mean the town."

I laughed to dissolve the awkwardness. "I know. It's great. The people are really nice," I offered as I involuntarily fingered the side of my sundress. 

"I'm uh... about to feed them. Do you want to come with?" He asked, gesturing to the tank again.

"Is that okay?" I wondered.

"You're not going in; just watching. It's fine." 

"All right," I agreed, smiling. I followed him down couple of hallways and up a flight of stairs. He told me to stay put while he got into the gear. I saw the tops of all the tanks. From here they looked like swimming pools. Mark came back a second later, dressed in black scuba gear. The mask and flippers and everything. He took out the mask and grinned. "Like the outfit?"

"Dashing." I chuckled. I watched as he did his job. I began to notice little things about Mark. For instance, he motions were all very gentle. Not too rushed, not impulsive. He seemed like one of those rare people who actually had it all together and like never lost their temper. I was oddly envious. I was also conscious of his smile. He had a really wonderful smile, the type I would never get tired of looking at. After he finished his duties, he changed back into casual attire.

"So this is how it's done," he said, gesturing to the fish after he finished the feeding. 

"Cool."

"Am I boring you?" He fretted.

"No, no!" I said quickly. "It's really intriguing."

"Hey, you wanna grab lunch?"

I deliberated in silence for a moment.

"Come on, if you say no, I'll just be eating my lousy peanut butter sandwich I brought in a Ziploc bag. But if you say yes, I'll have an excuse to have good food," he said, laughing. 

I laughed along. "I don't know. I might have to get home."

"No...Seriously, come on. Have you been to the restaurant by the harbor? They serve the best fish sticks in the entire country. I do not kid, Stacy. I do not kid."

I looked at his pleading expression a little longer then I nodded. "Okay." 

We drove together in his car to the restaurant. The meal was great and I really had to admit to myself that I enjoyed talking to him. He was an optimistic person who had his own views on the world. His was a refreshing personality. I found myself quickly growing addicted to his laugh, his bad jokes and spoken fun facts about sea creatures.

"Did you know that the correct collective noun for jellyfish is a smack?"

"What? Really? A smack of jellyfish?"

"Yep! Weird right? So tell me something about yourself."

"What do you want to know?"

"Anything."

I'm uh... going to study psychology?"

"Cool! You can read minds, then."

"Why does everyone say that?" I responded. "You know, psychologists don't actually read minds. They study behavior and expressions and body language then they draw plausible conclusions."

"So…basically, in summary, they read minds."

I rolled my eyes and smiled. "You? Are you only filled with fun facts regarding sea creatures?"

"Hah! You wish!" He said as he picked up a fish stick. "I know about land animals too. Kangaroos use their tails for balance so if you hold a kangaroo’s tail, it can't hop."

I blinked. "Really?"

"Also, if a croc has clamped onto you, push your thumb into its eyeball. It'll let you go immediately."

I shook my head slowly. 

"Elephants undergo menopause."

"What?" I choked on the lemonade.

"It's true!" 

"No way."

"Really. I know. I'm like a fun fact dispenser."

"Wow..." I muttered. "What are you going to study? Later I mean."

"Eventually I'll make it to one of those bigger schools to study oceanography. Right now, I'm pretty content here. Also, I'm still saving up. All's good."

"Awesome."

"So, what do you think of this place? Riverton."

I thought about it. "I keep thinking it's like a dream. It's so quiet that it's almost magical."

He nodded thoughtfully. The rest of the afternoon was so harmless and hopeful. Mark was a great person and before we said goodbye, I already knew I wanted to see him again. I remember thinking to myself that it really was dreamlike. And if it was a dream, I'd be fine with not waking up. 

I despise people who deliberately make things harder for other people. Life is hard enough as it is. Wholly unnecessary judgments and destructive lashes do not better the world. To those people, why are you even here?

"What do we live for, if it is not to make life less difficult for each other?"
-George Elliot 

Someone Just Like Me

I always believed that chance and luck dictated most of our lives. The way I saw it, so much of what defines our lives is because of chance and luck. For instance, a talented man was recognized because he was lucky. He was lucky that someone had recognized his talent at an early stage. He was lucky people nurtured him and helped him grow. Well, we aren't all lucky. Some of us get our loved ones ripped away.

“Anna.” My mom's voice snapped me out of my daydreams again. No, not mom, step-mom. “I just want to remind you that we are doing this in your best interest.”
“Got it.” I mumbled in a voice that sounded dead and detached even in my own ears. I sounded empty, lifeless and aimless.

I shrugged off the self-pity and forced myself to toughen up. I knew this was coming. I wasn't surprised when my step-mom came in my room to talk to me about it a few nights ago. She explained how this was necessary due to my behavior. In layman's terms, I was basically asking for it. I didn't seriously think that all my actions would be forgiven and forgotten, but part of me still was confused at how it all led to this.
We arrived at the cold, dark and ominous place before the sunset. Boarding school. Yeah, that's what they called it. I knew that this was not an ordinary school though. It was a cross between a boarding school and a mental institution. Of course, they didn't put it like that. They made it sound all flowery so my guardian would buy into it. This would be my personal hell. I was sure of it before I even got my bags out of the car.
I was showed to my room. I assumed we would all have roommates but I didn't have one. That should be nice. I didn't enjoy having to make small talk, though I had perfected it. I thought about all the other things I had tried to perfect over the years. Seeming normal, pretending to be like everybody else. I wondered if I had really ever pulled this off. Another thing, hiding my pain. That was something I always worked on. The pain that lived inside me was something no one could ever take away. That's how it felt to me. All the therapy and counseling in the world that I was put through didn't make it go away completely. Why is it that my stepmother and Nana had put me here in this sick place? Last month, the first anniversary of my parents' death, I had attempted suicide.

I didn't want to think about it anymore. It was too agonizing to bear. Even with all that time, I still felt so wrong inside. I felt so alone. I felt that no one truly understood me. Time heals all wounds. 'What a joke!' I thought to myself as I exited my room and went to walk around the vast campus. The buildings were grey and dull but I had to admit that aside from those boring buildings, the place was actually quite beautiful. There was beautiful green grass and there were trees and flowers. The sunshine touched the grass and the leaves in the trees making the scene almost bearable for me. I glared up at the summer sky and then bundled up my long waves of hair and quickly tied a messy bun. I found the biggest tree on campus and began to climb. It was something I always did. It had become a habit of mine. I liked tall places. I had never been afraid of heights. My depression and anger pushed me higher. I was really high up in the tree when I finally decided to stop climbing. I sighed heavily and carefully found a safe spot to sit.

“Hey. Get your own tree.” A hostile voice startled me. I looked around me and spotted a boy about my age sitting on the same tree. His voice was hostile but his face was polite. I thought I saw a trace of humor somewhere in his expression.
“I'm sorry. I didn't know your name was engraved on this one.” I said sarcastically.
He chuckled at my response. “Chill. I was kidding. I like to kid once in a while.”
“Oh.” I said not knowing what else to say.
“You're new here aren't you?”
“Just enrolled.” I noted that my voice sounded somber.
“What's your name?”
“Annabelle. Call me Anna.”
“Cool. Annabelle. Pretty name.”
“Thanks. Aren't you going to tell me your name?”
“Matthew. Call me Matt.”
“Cool.” I copied his response just as he had copied mine.
“What are you doing up here?”
“I like it. What are you doing up here?”
“I always come here.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “When I'm all the way up here, and I look down, everything down there seems simpler. And I see things a little more clearly than I would if I were on the ground.” He smiled slightly but it wasn't a happy smile.
I was stunned into silence. My eyes fell on his face. I wanted to drop my gaze but I couldn't seem to for a minute.
“What?” He asked.
“That's exactly why I go up to high places.” I confessed.
“What are the odds? I found someone just like me.” His voice was lighter now. His reply somehow made me relax a little. I felt pretty weightless. I hadn't felt that way in a long time.

"We humans, I realized, are stupid. But we are all stupid together."

Bookworms

My friend, Kristen and I visited a giant book clearance sale last month. The sale was a big deal and hosted it in only a few states every year. I was so ecstatic that they picked Ohio.

"Oh my gosh!! Chloe, will you look at this?!" Kristen almost screamed. 

I was standing right behind her, reading the back of a book. The tittle of the book was "Article 5". But I let go of it at once because I knew better than to keep Kristen waiting. I turned around and said, "What?"

"Look!!" She squealed. I did and I couldn't hold back my enthusiasm. I understood why she was so exuberant now. She was gazing at a section filled with the books of the series we both loved. Kristen had read the entire series but she didn't have her own copies. She borrowed the books from one of her friends and since then, had wanted to get her own copies to keep on her overflowing bookshelf. I on the other hand, wanted to cross it off my ginormous list of books to buy and read before I turned 18.

"We are so getting these!!!" I said.

"Duh!" Kristen said, already grabbing two of each book from the series. 

"Oh my gosh! They are in perfect condition too! This is insane!"

"I know!!!" Kristen almost screamed. 

A few people were turning to stare. This big balding man wore a disdainful expression on his leathery face. I tried shushing Kristen but we both ended up laughing. We both had a small stack of books now and I suggested that we try stuffing them into our bags before moving on. The thing about this sale was that everything was so ridiculously cheap that instead of using boxes or plastic bags, serious book enthusiasts brought gigantic luggage bags. Like the kind people used to go for vacation in Japan. Kristen and I each brought one in addition to the backpacks hanging our shoulders. I unzipped my luggage and felt my jaw drop. "There is no way these'll fit," I told Kristen. 

"Gosh mine's full as well," she said. "Maybe our backpacks."

So we slung our backpacks around and opened them up. There was some space left. We had to shift a few things around but by the time we stood up, all the books were safely inside. "Now to get more," I said, cheerily. But I knew we couldn't go too far because we didn't have any room left.

We ventured into the Humor section. There were quite a number of interesting books there. We were looking though a book that contained the most useless facts on earth when they came up to us. Two guys about our age. One had auburn hair and the other had dark hair that was very close to black. The one with the auburn hair spoke first. 

"Is it hot in here or is it just you girls?" He said with a wide grin on his face. Kristen and I looked at each other than looked back at them. 

"That is the worst pickup line in the history of the world," Kristen said.

I laughed. "When she's right, she's right."

The guy with the auburn hair looked away then jabbed the dark haired one in the arm. "Thank you for that, asshole."

"Smooth," he commented, holding back laughter. "Hey. I'm Dominic. That one's Jake. So, bookworms don't blush?"

"What?" I asked.

"Jake isn't used to comebacks, just some swooning and blushing. That's what most girls give him," Dominic said.

"Okay that's not true. Look that wasn't my idea okay. He dared me to do it!" The who was evidently Jake insisted. 

"I'm trying to sell you as a lady killer," Dominic whispered too loudly. 

"Is that all?" Kristen asked. She could be really cold and critical if she wanted to. She had like this death stare that could make even the manliest guys run for the hills. I coughed to hide a laugh.

"Uh... Wait tell us your names." Dominic said.

"Why?" Kristen asked.

They didn't seem to know either. I stepped in. "Listen. Chip, Dale, we're not 'most girls' so I suggest you better find some other paper people to bother." They looked confused.

"Bye," Kristen said angelically.

We strode quickly away from them. When we were out of earshot, Kristen and I burst out laughing.
"Did you seriously just use our paper potato term? They won't get something like that!"

"Yes! First thing that popped into my head!" I said, laughing. "We are so awesome." 

"Yeah!"

"Okay I think we're about done here. Number 1, we can't carry anymore. Number 2, we don't have a million bucks."

"Right. Okay let's go." We made our way to the long line. This was going to be a long wait. Kristen and I didn't do much while waiting in line besides take a few photos. Eventually the two counters were free. I went to the one on the left while Kristen took the one on the right. The people at the counter unpacked all our books, counted them then put them back neatly. Kristen and I simultaneously got out our purses. Then a tall guy stepped deliberately in front of me. "Hey!" I said angrily. He glanced at me and smiled. I was taken aback. He was one of the guys from the duo we met earlier. Jake. I shot a glance at Kristen and saw Dominic in front of Kristen. "What do you think you're doing?" I asked him. 

He didn't answer. I watched what he was doing. He was handing the cashier money. For my books. He was paying for my books? He looked at me and said, "So this is how to make bookworms blush?" He asked.

I cleared my throat and said, "I'm gonna pay you back."

"No way," he said innocently stuffing his hands into his pockets. He helped me carry most of my books as well, ignoring when I protested. We met up with Dominic and Kristen. I didn't expect them to be this clever. Even Kristen was kind if flabbergasted now. 

"So... If you want to repay us... Let's all grab a coffee. There's a café down the road," Dominic said. 

"Uh... Sure?" I said, trying to see if that was what Kristen wanted as well.

“Yeah. Okay,” she said. She seemed impressed. I was too. 

They took the lead, carrying most of our books again. 
I shot a glance at Kristen. 

She shrugged and laughed once. “This’ll make a good story one day, you know?”

Those 3 Words

I didn't know what to say. In that moment, what I felt couldn't be expressed in those 3 common words that we humans use to convey affection. I was at a loss for words but a part of me insisted that the silence said more than words could. So I just stared at her, watching her smile as the wind ruffled her hair, memorizing the way her face looked when it was flushed. I noticed how there was a light in her eyes that I rarely saw in other people. She wore a small smile that made me a little frustrated inside. I wondered what she was thinking. Was she remembering something funny? Planning a practical joke on her friend? I wanted to ask but I didn't want the magical silence to leave right away.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked me, turning to look at me suddenly. I looked away, feeling my face warm up. It felt like she had caught me spying on her.

"You." I answered honestly.

She grinned then turned back to the lake. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

I wanted to say not as beautiful as her but it sounded too common and cheesy. "Yeah."

"John?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you ever think about tomorrow? Like the near future?"

"Not really." I tended to live as much in the present as possible. Thinking too much about things I had no control over made me depressed.

She was quiet for a second. Then she looked at me and inched closer. She leaned on my shoulder seeming a little hesitant. "What do you see yourself doing? Like in 5 years?"

I shrugged. "The same thing. Waiting tables."

"What about me?"

"What about you?"

"Am I a part of your future?"

She silenced me for a moment. I didn't really think about it. Because whenever I did try to picture a future with her, it would always be too perfect to be believable.

"Am I?"

"That depends on you, doesn't it?" I mumbled, turning my head so she couldn't see my face even if she looked up. She did. I felt her head leave my shoulder. I continued. "Do you want to be a part of it?"

"Of course. I love you." She put her head back on my shoulder.

"I love you too," I said, pressing my lips to her hair.

I sincerely hoped that this would be enough to shield us from whatever obstacles that the universe would put in our way.

Skylar

            

            “Hi,” I said boldly.

            “Hi,” she replied.

            “So…” I began awkwardly. I was mentally scrolling through all the other scenarios of how I had asked girls out before. But something in me knew that navigating the waters with Skylar would be different. I was at a loss for words.

            “So?” She prompted. “Still hoping to know more about me?”

            “You want to tell me?”

            “Not really,” she said.

            “So where’re ya from?” I asked, trying to sound conversational.

            She looked at me again, her expression quizzical. “Everywhere.”

            “You move a lot?”

            “Sure.”

            “Where was the last place you lived?” I asked.

            “New York,” she answered.

            “Wow. Busy city. I went there to visit my Aunt one Christmas. It’s happening even at night.”

            “Sure is,” she agreed.

            “Why did you come here?”

            She bit her lip lightly, probably thinking what to answer. Or she could be wondering if I was a serial killer who wanted to know her personal details. She was hard to read. That was the difference between her and other girls. I knew my way around the average girl. But Skylar – her expressions and her curt replies. She was something else.

            “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just that this town is less exciting than New York. Most people here want to go to places like that. Like New York,” I explained. Her expression smoothened a little, understanding coloring her eyes.

            “I have a relative here. My uncle.” She said cautiously as if afraid to reveal too much.

            “So, you liking Johanna High?”

            “Is this some sort of interrogation?” She asked suddenly.

            “Uh… no.” I glanced behind me and saw Troy and Matthew laughing. I gave them what I liked to call a death glare then turned back to Skylar. She had her lips pursed.

            “I was wondering if you’re free on Saturday night. There’s this party – a”

            “Now you’re asking me out, Jason Hunter?” She looked annoyed but I thought I saw a trace of humor somewhere in those hazel eyes.

            “Just being friendly.” I muttered.

            She laughed then, unexpectedly.

            “Something funny?”

            She ignored that. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that there’s something else you want to know.”

            I kept silent but felt my eyes tighten.

            “You’ve been asking me a lot of meaningless, generic questions really, really quickly and trying to have a conversation or ask me out or whatever. But there’s something else you’re curious about, aren’t you?”

            “Fine,” I allowed. “I’m curious. Why the first impression nonsense on the first day?” Truth is, I had been wondering about that since she spoke it.

            She shrugged. “To introduce myself was to assuage you that I was not an outsider. I thought it’d be cooler to prolong the mystery.”

            I thought about it for a moment. “Okay.”

            “So what did you think about me? When you first saw me.” I saw the curiosity in her eyes.

            “Beautiful. Exceptionally so,” I said easily. “Uh… different. Hard to please. Talented.” I said. 

            She considered. “Hmm.”

            “So are you going to tell me your first impression of me?”

            “I was right. I made sure of it,” she said.  I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I realized that her opinion mattered to me. I wanted her to like me as a person.

            “Well, what was it?”

            She sat a little straighter, squared her shoulders. “Shallow. Jock. Ignorant. A little haughty. Brash. Tactless. Average.” I couldn’t find one good quality in the truckload of words she used to describe me.

            I reacted defensively. “You don’t know me.”

            “Numerous pranks last year including graffiti in the teachers’ bathroom, cheating in tests, terrorizing other students. Only friends: football team and basketball team. Cheerleaders as girlfriends. Sounds about right to me, Hunter.

            I felt my ears go hot. “I’m not some ignorant bastard. I have goals. Like…. Well and, do you realize I said great things about you and you said nothing nice about me?”

            “I thought we were being honest,” she said, her eyes wide with innocence. My fists clenched. She was wrong. She made me sound like a jerk. Surely I wasn’t a jerk.

            “Am I wrong?” She asked.

            “Not entirely,” I admitted, feeling the sudden anger leave my system.

            After a while, she said, “For what it’s worth, you’re wrong about me.” Before I could ask, she continued talking. “I assume this conversation isn’t what your friends pictured you’d be getting. They look edgy.”

            “Yeah I guess I should get back to them,” I muttered, feeling deflated. I stood and pushed the chair in. Surprisingly, she rose too. She walked right up to me.

            “Something for you.” She smirked.

            Before I could ask her what she meant, she grabbed the collar of my shirt with both hands and kissed me. On the lips. I felt her tongue caress my lower lip and her warm breath in my mouth. My lips moved with hers automatically. Like my lips were created specifically so I could kiss Skylar Breanne Robinson. Her right hand moved to the back of my head and my hand was on her forearm. The kiss was so perfectly packed with life that what must have been 5 seconds, seemed indefinite to me.

            When it was over, she smirked again, grabbed her untouched sandwich and left the cafeteria. She left the perfume of her presence to confuse me further.

Blizzards

I walked to her house after work. I didn't know what I was thinking actually. I didn't know where I got the nerve to walk to her house at night, knowing that her fiancé might be the one opening the door. The thought of that made me sick and I almost turned around. Almost. The air was cold and uninviting. It was snowing but only very slightly. Flecks of white drifted down from the sky but before hitting the ground, got carried someplace else by the wind. I thought back to the time when I could find a scene like this beautiful. A time when snowfalls made me want to be better for her. It always shocked me how much things had changed in a few short years. Now every snowfall was like a blizzard. I caught myself walking down memory lane again. Then I had to exit that place because even now, my heart wasn't whole enough to bear the atrocities.

I walked right up to her door and knocked it twice. Part of me was hoping she wasn't home so I would have to force myself to leave. I took several steps back not trusting myself. I had just mustered the courage to leave when I heard the door open. She stood in the frame with her lips pursed. Her green eyes were unmistakable to my heart but the better, more rational side of me told me that she wasn't who she used to be. People change.

I stood there, with my hands shoved into the pockets of my jeans, not sure what to do now.

She glanced behind her for a second as if checking if anyone was there. Maybe Brandon, her fiancé, really was at home. I thought she would close the door and pretend she didn't see me but after a minute, she came out and met me by the edge of the porch. I hated the way I still found her so beautiful. I hated the way that even her unsmiling face set my heart beating faster than normal.

"Lucas," she said. "You shouldn't be here."

The words stung but I ignored it. "I just wanted to wish you a happy wedding. You'll make a breathtaking bride, you know? I would love to see you there but… I really don’t think I’ll be welcome…so…" I trailed off, feeling stupid. This was pathetic.

"Are you okay?" She asked and I wondered what I looked like through her eyes.

"Of course." I lied. "You know me. Anyway, you need to promise me something, Julie. Just be happy. Promise you'll be happy with Brandon. Just please. Promise me."

"S-sure," she stuttered.

I wanted to give her an acceptable parting gesture but nothing came to me and the silence lengthened. Finally, I awkwardly held out my hand for a handshake.

She stared at my outstretched hand for a moment, deliberating. I had the feeling that she would reject it. Unexpectedly, she took a step towards me. Then, she wrapped her arms around me, pressing her cheek against my chest. She used to hug me this way, years ago. She had said that hearing my heartbeat reminded her that the world was a lot less complicated than she thought.

And I suppose she was right. The world is not complicated. It's just unfair. Because how could this be justified? I watched her walk back into the house before I turned to leave realizing that this would be the last time I'd see her.

It was like watching her walk out of my life. Again.

Dylan

After an hour, I decided I couldn't stay there anymore. I stealthily left. You would think that a good girl like me has never even considered leaving without permission. Well, we can't all be saints. I ducked out of the window and climbed down the trellis quickly. The night air was nice, refreshing and peaceful. I slung my bag over my shoulder and made it out of there without being caught. In my bag was a few items. My cell phone, several books, money of course and pepper spray. I wasn't sure where to go. It was pretty late. I settled for a boring old cafe. I ordered hot chocolate and sipped it slowly while reading the book that was apparently selling like crazy. It centered on vampires that lived among us. Throughout the time I was there, I took notice of young man that looked at me too often to be coincidental. Feeling uneasy, I quickly finished my drink, paid and got the hell out of there. I headed home quickly. It wasn't very far. I walked because I knew if I took my car, my parents would find out. I thought it was ridiculous that I still had a curfew as if I was 17 years of age. My mother was like that. My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of fast approaching footsteps that came from behind me. I turned and saw the man that had his eyes on me in that cafe.

“Hey beautiful.” He said.

“What do you want?” I asked keeping my tone light and fearless.

“You.” He laughed. “You look lonely. I thought I'd join you.”

“I'm fine. Thanks for your concern.” I turned away from him and walked faster.

He grabbed my wrist.

“Let go of me.” I said evenly. With my other hand, I reached into my bag and wrapped my fingers around the can of pepper spray.

He smirked and came closer until our faces were inches away. His breath blew into my face. Alcohol. Definitely. He was going to kiss me. I felt my stomach curl into a ball as the fear registered.

Keeping my calm, I pulled out the pepper spray and pressed on the nozzle aiming at his eyes.

He cussed and cried out in pain. “Damn it!”

I immediately shook off his hand and ran like crazy. I didn't pay attention to where I was going, just what I was running from. I ran for several minutes. I glanced behind me periodically to make sure he wasn't following. Just then, I bumped, or more like crashed into somebody. “I am so sorry.” I said quickly and started running again.

“Wait!” The person I knocked down called.

I didn't wait. I just kept running.

He caught up with me easily. He ran next to me. “Who are we running from?” He asked.

“What? What do you think you're doing?” I asked shocked.

“Why are you running?” He asked me back.

“Why are you running with me?”

“Who's chasing you?” He asked stubbornly refusing to answer any of my questions.

I groaned and stopped running when I thought we were in the clear. I didn't know where we were now. All I knew was that we were behind some building near the main road. I panted trying to catch my breath. He did the same.

“Well?” He asked after a while.

I looked up to study him. He had brown hair that was a mess due to all the running. Somehow, it still looked good. He was dressed in a dark blue long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves pushed up slightly and jeans that were designed to look torn and faded. What prevented me from responding was his eyes. They were blue I realized. They looked warm and kind.

“Hello? Anybody in there?” He asked.

I flushed and said, “Some guy was chasing me.”

“Some guy?”

“He was harassing me. I murdered his eyes with pepper spray.” I said showing off the can of pepper spray.

“Tough.” He commented smiling. Then, he was serious. “Are you alright?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Cause if you aren't, I'd be happy to go back to that guy and punch his teeth out.”

“Why?” I asked confused. “You don't know me.”

“I despise guys who treat women like that.” He shrugged and leaned against the cinder wall of the building we were behind.

“Ah... I see.”

“What's your name?”

“Lilliane.”

“Pretty name.”

“Thanks.” I smiled.

“You should go home.” He told me. “Around here, if you're this beautiful,” He said gesturing to me making me blush, “you shouldn't be around here. It's not really safe, you know?” He smiled. “Oh I almost forgot.” He said reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small silver object. He handed it to me. “It fell out of your bag when we bumped into each other.” He smiled again.

“Thanks so much. Actually, I bumped into you.” I reminded him.

“Right. You were trying to run backwards. My advice: Get eyes on the back of your head.” He smirked.

I scowled. Then I asked, “Did I hurt you? I think you cushioned my fall.” My face and tone was sheepish.

He looked at his elbows that were slightly grazed. “Not much. I'll live.” He said.

“Sorry. I really didn't mean to.”

“It's alright. Go on home now. Need me to call a cab for you? You don't seem very capable.” He teased.

“I'll walk. My house isn't far.”

“Are you kidding? After that experience you still want to walk?”

“I'm not supposed to be out.” I said biting my lip. “If I call a cab and all, the headlights, the sound of the car, I don't know. I'm afraid my parents will wake up.”

“Alrighty then. I'll walk you. If I leave you alone now, and you get bothered by some guy again, it'll be partially my fault.”

“That's a strange excuse.” I commented. “What the hell?” I said shrugging.

“So what're you doing out this late?” He asked as we started walking.

“Clearing my head.”

He snorted. “Bet it didn't work.”

“Nope.” I admitted.

“Want to tell me what's going on?”

“I don't think so.” I said warily giving him a wry smile.

“Right. Sorry. I guess it's too much to tell to someone you barely met.” He replied understandingly.

“So, you never told me your name.” I said when we were a block away from my house.

“Dylan.” He smiled. I realized that he had a very nice smile. It was the kind of smile that could brighten anybody's day no matter how crappy the day was.

“Well, thank you for your help tonight, Dylan.”

“It was my genuine pleasure.” He mimicked my formal tone. His eyes danced playfully.

“Alright. I should... get inside.” I said regretfully. Why did I sound so rueful?

“Okay. I'll be seeing ya, Lil.” He smiled at me one last time then he was gone.

I Hope You'll See My Love

Note : I did NOT write this. But I love this. Hope you guys will too.

I have so many things to say,
But I cannot find my voice
Because you take my breath away.

I hope my eyes will speak for you to notice
As I wait in silence for you to notice.
That a craving soul has something to impart.

I am in turmoil awaiting your glance,
Yet again trying to appear normal.
While my heart flutters its loving dance.

Each day I endure as it passes
And maybe then you will see me
Until then I'll try to keep my feelings at bay.

I desperately want to place you
Between the pages of my book
And keep you forever, I really do.