Simply said, no amount of joy in the world can make this day any better. It won’t make me feel any better. By no means would someone else’s uncontrollable out burst of vomit inducing sunshine create any euphoria that affects me in the least. Puppies saved from burning building? I wasn’t going to adopt one anyway. World peace achieved? So What. My life won’t change in the least. Just because the greatest event in human history may happen, someone will be sad. And that someone is me.
Today was the worst day of my life. I was caught up between the biggest conflict ever to befall me, but more about that later. It all started at around three O clock in the morning. Insomnia that used to cause extreme grief and frustration now let me harness the energy that is the night air. No one around, and everything mine. My parents don’t know about this. I keep to myself mostly.
It’s Wednesday, or hump day as some like to call it, but not me. Wednesday is my favorite day, halfway between the tiresome beginning of the week and the hectic end of the week. Wednesday is simple and calm, and I started to realize this at this particular time on this particular day. I sat in my front yard, and at this point I doubted my appearance would come in handy, so any makeup I had previously worn the day before had long washed down my drain. The summer dew that sat daintily on the grass was ever so slightly soaking through my pajama pants, but I didn’t care.
I looked up at the moon and sighed. It was half full; its reflective silhouette cast rich shadows across the landscape. The few stars visible looked magnificent in the pitch-black universe. I could hear some crickets, perhaps a frog or two. I reflected on how simple their life was, only to come out when the weather is nice and sleeping away the cold harsh winter. It is amazing how when there are no people around to spoil it, these animals sing their most beautiful songs.
At one point, I quite nearly fell asleep, but I awoke to an unexpected noise that nearly scared me to death. It was laughter. This laughter wasn’t the happy jolly kind of laughter, though, it was sort of nervous and forced, like the person whom it belonged to wanted to forget something. I started to breath heavily, what inconsiderate person would attack the quiet tranquility of my night? I stood up to face my villain. I merely caught a glimpse of his swiftly moving shadow at first.
I heard footsteps behind a pine tree and snapped my head around to observe his movements closer. Suddenly all went silent again. My ears were perked and my eyes peeled, somehow I was getting vibes that this scenario was wrong in some way. Unfortunately, I was right.
Once again I heard the movement of this strange entity. This time, behind me completely. I turned around quickly, and there he was. About five inches from the tip of my nose stood a boy around my age, perhaps a few years older. His clothes looked extremely dirty, with some sort of muddy substance smeared on them. He was relatively handsome, but this was overtaken by the fact that he wore a horrid frown. He stared directly into my eyes, into my soul.
I stood there silently for a few seconds. I couldn’t have made a peep even if I tried, because my voice was choked so far back in my throat. My thoughts were muddled by the terrifying surprise of the moment. All I could hope was that I would be safe.
Eventually, after what seemed like eternity, he finally broke his gaze and looked downwards. I took this as a chance to run away from him, but before I could he grabbed my arm and basically dragged me to the point where clean cut suburban lawn meets pine forest. I expected the worst from this, but it never came.
My attacker simply sat me down across from him, our backs being supported by tree trunks. Then he waited as I cowered, my head turned to the side, my body slouched, and my eyes closed. I was waiting for death to come ease the pain that was sure to befall me. We must have stayed like this for an hour until he finally spoke.
He said calmly, “Why are you so afraid?”
My voice shaking, I replied again with the question, “What are you going to do to me?”
He mulled over this question for a few moments before saying, “I just wanted to talk.”
I shifted my position slightly and looked at him again. His frown was gone and he had an inquisitive look about him. The fear that had once surrounded me slowly left. He seemed more like a person than a wild angry beast now. I sat into a more upright position and he again began to speak.
He told me about how he felt. He said he needed a friend because no one else was ever there for him. He told this with such sincerity that I believed every word. He elaborated on how miserable he felt in his life, and that he had run away from his home in order to stay sane. Then he spoke about the night.
He said, “You see, I feel like the night is the only time where I can truly be me. It’s where I can be myself because no one else is awake.”
I felt a twang of greed at this statement. Even with the immense amount of time he put into explaining his actions to me, he was still my villain. He was still the one who was stealing the silence of the night from me.
As I was thinking these thoughts, I must have stiffened my body, for he paused and looked at me questioningly. I immediately relaxed as much as I could. My conscience took over and I began to think of his feelings. How could I become jealous of someone else’s habits when they were pouring their heart and soul out to me? I swore he could read my mind for as soon as I finished these thoughts he stood up and began again to speak.
He said in hushed tones, “I am going to the rail road station and I am going to have it take me as far as it can go. I am telling you this because I trust you… you are my only friend.”
I thought about this for a few seconds. His only friend? How could he only have one friend? I had plenty of friends. And me? All I did was sit here and listen to him. But then I realized he would have listened to me, too. I thought about every one else I knew, and none of them could bear to hear me talk for more than a few seconds before butting their heads in.
I replied back, “You are my only friend, too.”
He got a glint of hope in his eye, and seemingly satisfied with this answer, stood up, said goodbye, and started to leave.
I called after him, “Wait!” He looked back at me. I then asked him what his name was. He smiled and simply replied, “Alan”, and walked away again.
I stood up after him, but walked the opposite way back to my house. When I got there, I walked upstairs and fell into a deep sleep. I woke up the next morning, refreshed and ready to take on the day. I walked down the stairs and greeted my parents warmly. They were confused with my happy attitude, but accepted it nonetheless. I sat down at the kitchen table and poured myself a bowl of cereal.
My parents were watching the news in the other room, and I was eavesdropping on the anchorman’s newscast. He recites his usual stories about the perils of life, but at one point, I thought I heard him say “Alan”. Of course the chewin of crunchy cereal would have impeded my hearing, and I seriously doubted a run away child would be put on the news so quickly, so I perked up my ears and listened harder. Then I heard it again.
I started to get worried, so I walked through the door to the living room to see what was going on. Sure enough, my friend’s picture was posted on the TV for the whole world to see. I started to listen, and I couldn’t believe my ears. I looked at the headline, and I was shocked.
15 Year Old Boy Murders Parents, Runs Away.
My friend… he is a murderer. The anchorman went on about how no one saw it coming, and how the police have not yet found him yet. He also told us that he is possibly armed and most likely deranged, and to give the police any information we may have on him. My heart sank. I couldn’t believe it, so I picked up the phone and told the police that Alan was headed to the rail road station.
Gender:
Points: 300
Reviews: 0