So, I kinda just wrote this randomly. There was no thought process, no plot, no idea that I was trying to get across. I was just venting and it turned into a (somewhat long) one shot. Maybe it makes no sense to you, maybe you'll read this and think it's stupid, in which case. Sorry. But thanks for reading it. lol.
I'm posting this because Shmellow told me too. And she's just that cool that I had to do it. =D
~Belles <3 [is watching 'Next' with her family]
My Beautiful Stranger
I stood underneath the streetlight at the corner of a sidewalk. The cool metal from the post seemed to be the only thing chaining me to reality. My thoughts certainly weren't doing that. My mind was a million miles away.
I couldn't pin point the exact place I was, mentally or physically, but that didn't matter. Nothing mattered right now. Not that it was so dark out I couldn't see the other side of the street clearly. Not that I was all alone in said dark night. Not that a light drizzle had started and I was getting slightly wet.
Nothing mattered.
I couldn't tell anyone why because I barely understood why.
I was in a weird place that night.
I could feel a lump in my throat, the kind of lump I get right before I start bawling my eyes out. But I didn't feel the need to cry. My head kind of hurt but I didn't know why that was either. I had the strangest sensation in my stomach, like something bad was going to happen or was it something good?
I rested my head against the cold metal letting it cool down my burning forehead. I had the intense urge to kick something, to scream, to shout so loud people across the world would be able to hear it and wonder just what happened.
I wanted to cry, laugh, dance, sing, do something... anything. But instead I did nothing. I emptied my mind and just stood there. My head pressed against the metal post, eyes closed, body still.
I can't tell you how long I stood there. I can't tell you the thoughts running through my head. And I can't tell you exactly how I felt.
But I can tell you I jumped when someone tapped my shoulder. I can tell you I was beyond surprised to see a boy wearing sunglasses, a hat, a long coat, and holding an umbrella standing before me. I can tell you that I looked at him in a kind of lifeless state, not saying or doing anything, just staring at him, watching the reflection of my zombie-like state through the black lenses of his sunglasses.
“Are you okay?” I heard him ask. I could tell he was sincere in his question, he didn't know me and yet it sounded like he truly cared whether or not I was okay.
I thought about it for a moment. Was I okay? Truthfully, I had no clue. Again, I was in a weird place that night. And what was taking place right now, seemed to confirm the weirdness of it all.
“I don't know. Do I look okay?” I said. I could hear the slight pleading in the last question. Do I look okay? Am I okay? Please let me know, because I can't tell myself.
The boy bit his lip, I couldn't tell what he was thinking, the glasses were hiding his eyes. “You look..... like you need to get out of this rain.” he said not fully addressing my question.
I c.ocked my head and listened to the rain as it beat ruthlessly against the boy's umbrella. I hadn't noticed it had started to rain that much. I looked down at my clothes. I was soaked to the bone. When did that happen? When did the light drizzle become an angry torrent of rain?
“Hmm, out of the rain? I guess that'd be nice.” I replied, my voice sounding just as distant as my mind was.
I could see the boy quickly look both ways before grabbing my arm and pulling me across the street. Once we had safely made it to the sidewalk I looked up. It was a hotel. It looked very nice. So that was what was across the street, I thought randomly.
The boy pulled me inside the hotel and handed his umbrella to another guy in a uniform. He kept his hat, glasses, and coat on though as he continued to pull me into an elevator. Once inside he pushed a button and waited impatiently for the doors to shut.
I looked around the elevator. The walls were a shiny gold that reflected images like a mirror. I looked at them and saw what they saw. A very wet girl whose pale face and glazed eyes gave her the look of a drowned zombie standing next to a tall strong looking boy who seemed to care about the zombie girl he'd just met and if he ever took off his hat and glasses probably had the face of an angel, for that's exactly how he was acting.
As the elevator dinged and the doors opened signaling that we had reached the destination, I felt the boy's gentle grip pull me out of the elevator and into the elegant hallway.
If I was completely honest with myself I'd let you know that a million and one thoughts were rushing through my head. Where were we? What was he doing? Where were we going? Was he as good as I thought he was? Or is he one of the bad guys? Am I going to die here? Is he going to report me to the police? Although I haven't done anything wrong as far as I know so I don't think he can.
But I said nothing. I asked nothing. I just followed him like a lost puppy as we entered an even more extravagant hotel room that reminded me more of an apartment than anything else. He took off his hat and coat and placed them on a coat rack near the door. Then he turned towards me, his glasses still on, and said, “Why don't you get out of your wet clothes. You can borrow some of mine if you want or I can have someone go out and get you some new dry clothes.”
I hugged my arms around my body and ever so slightly shook my head no.
“The bathroom's just around the corner and my room is right next to it.”
I squeezed myself even tighter and closed my eyes, shaking my head no a little bit harder.
“Are you okay?” He asked for the second time that night.
I sighed opening my eyes slowly, but not letting go of the tight hold I had around myself. “Do I look okay?” I asked again, hoping that maybe this time I'd get an actual answer.
The boy sighed, “I'll go get you a towel.” He said disappearing from my sight only to reappear moments later with a fluffy white towel in his hands. He handed me the towel but my body seemed to be frozen. I couldn't find the will power to unwrap my arms from my body and take the towel. The boy seemed to see this dilemma and proceeded to wrap the fluffy towel around me himself. Then he gently guided me into the 'living room' and onto a soft couch.
We sat there in silence for a time. I don't know how long. Time had become irrelevant to me and I found myself welcoming the silence. It gave me time to think. To try and figure out exactly what I was feeling. Although in all honesty by the time the boy spoke up and said something the only thing I had figured out was I still had a lump in my throat, my stomach still felt like it was being twisted up in knots, and I still found myself shrinking more and more into my body instead letting some sort of emotion out.
“What were you doing at that streetlight?” He asked.
I looked at my dirty, wet sneakers instead of looking at my pathetic reflection in those horrible sunglasses. Who wears sunglasses indoors anyways?
“Did you get lost?” He asked when I didn't respond.
Did I get lost? Not in the physical sense of the word, but possibly in the mental sense. Maybe I am lost, but even if I were. Would he be able to help find me?
I said nothing. At this point he was probably wishing he'd left me outside for I was only a little bit more alive than the couch I was sitting on.
The boy bit his lip and ran his fingers through his immense mass of curly brown hair. He seemed slightly frustrated. I wondered if I did that to him. I felt a little bit bad for that, but other than that I felt nothing. Feeling nothing was a whole lot better than feeling like I would explode from too many emotions. Feeling nothing, was safe.
“Can I help you in any way?” The boy asked. I could feel him staring at me. I could hear his voice crack with emotion as he spoke these words. I wondered briefly why he cared so much about someone he just met. He didn't even know my name. I didn't even know his name. Why should he care about me?
Suddenly this weird burning feeling began to overcome my body. Words seemed to fly through my head at blinding speeds. They seemed to be screaming at me. Shouting to be heard. I wanted to speak them. I needed to say something, but my mouth was having trouble opening up.
I cautiously moved my tongue around my mouth, prodding my lips with the tip of my tongue and yet my mouth still refused to open. Refused to utter a sound.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath through my nose. With my eyes still closed I ever so slowly parted my lips so that there was only a small gap in which to let any sound out.
“I feel..... nothing.... and.... everything. All at the same time....... is that even possible?” I breathed, not sure if he heard me.
I opened my eyes to see if he'd react at all to what I said. He didn't move at all and I thought that he hadn't heard me. It wasn't until I heard his voice, I realized he must've been thinking about what I had said.
“I think it's possible. In fact it's happened to me a couple of times. It's not that you feel nothing. It's just that there are so many different emotions running through your body and your head that you block them off. You silence them. You let yourself feel absolutely nothing, because at that moment nothing is easier to handle than everything all at once. But eventually you'll find out that you can't feel nothing forever. Because feeling nothing and just going through the motions is even worse than being dead. It's like you're throwing your life away because you find reality to much to handle. Eventually you'll have to find a way to sort through all your emotions. A way to let them go and bring them back. To use them to your advantage. To enjoy them. To just bear with them.” The boy hung his head, rubbing the back of his neck, while he rested his elbows on his knees, sitting on a chair right in front of me.
He sighed, his head still bowed. “Does that make any sense?”
I hugged myself tighter as the towel continued to soak up my wetness. My eyes found a spot on the wall above his head and focused on that. “I... think it makes sense.” I replied, my voice sounding small and distant, even to my own ears. “But how do you do that? How do you just.... let go and be?”
His hands were interlocked and he was fiddling with a ring on his finger. He lifted his head and looked off the the side of the room where a keyboard and an acoustic guitar stood side by side. “Music.” He stated simply. “I let everything go.... by music. Whenever I'm feeling down or sad or just need to vent, I pour everything I have into a song. It's not only when I'm feeling bad though. Sometimes I turn to music when I'm so happy and things are going so right I feel like I'm going to explode from all the good feelings inside of me.” A smile made its way onto his face and the whole room seemed to brighten up.
I wanted to smile too. I wanted to feel the joy he did in creating music. In letting go of all his thoughts and feelings and becoming one with the music. Becoming part of the song. But I couldn't.
“I can't make music.” I whispered.
He turned to look at me and I quickly looked away, not liking the image his sunglasses gave me of the girl on the couch. “But you can do other things can't you? Maybe you could write out your thoughts. Turn them into a poem, a song, a story. You could dance. Or sing. Or maybe even draw. You got something right?” He asked his tone gentle.
I felt my lips quiver a bit before turning into a small frown. The tears that I thought I didn't have were suddenly threatening to fall. The lump in my throat grew bigger as did the knot in my stomach. “I don't have anything.” I managed to get out before closing my mouth tightly in an attempt to prevent myself from crying.
He didn't say a word. Just stood up, walked over to the keyboard, sat down, and began playing. The soft melody of a song I'd never heard before filled the spacious room. It wrapped itself around me and pierced my heart. The tears I refused to cry soon found themselves slipping gently down my cheeks and falling onto the towel that I still held tightly around my body. Somewhere in the back of my mind I heard sobbing, it took a few minutes until I realized the sobbing was coming from me. It took another minute for me to realize that the beautiful song had stopped and the boy playing it now had his arms wrapped around me.
Much better than a towel.
“Just let it all out. Let it go.” He whispered as he stroked my hair and rested his hand on my back, holding me in place.
His touch seemed to ground me. Made me realize that this was all truly happening, whatever this was. I felt the sobs rack through my body and come out in loud gasps from my mouth. I felt the wetness from my eyes as tears continued to pour from my eyes. I clung to the thin shirt of the boy I had just met, pulling him closer to me as I buried my head into the place where his neck and shoulder met. My sobs grew louder before reaching the high point and backing off. My breathing became harder before I found myself gaining control over my emotions once more.
After awhile my breathing slowed as did the tears. My grip on his shirt loosed. In fact my whole body seemed to collapse, feeling weak and drained. I closed my eyes in hopes of regaining some strength and instead found myself drifting into a dreamless sleep.
When I awoke the room was dark and silent. I looked around until my eyes rested on a flashing digital clock that read 2:37 a.m. I shrugged off the warm blanket that enclosed me and stood up. I turned on a small lamp and rifled around the drawers in a desk until I found what I was looking for. A pen. And a pad of paper.
I sat back down on the couch and chewed the end of the pen as I thought about what to write. After many minutes passed and still nothing was written down I finally thought back to the song the boy had played last night and wrote down whatever came to my mind from that.
When I finished I quietly tip toed into his room and placed the pad of paper on the small table right next to his bed. My breath caught in my throat as the boy moved, turning his body to face me, his eyes still closed. I let out the breath and watched him for a few small moments. His face was just as angelic as I thought it would be. If only I could see his eyes. Just once. Before I left.
I turned towards his door, silently slipping out of his room, and out of his life.
Nick rubbed his eyes trying to wake up as he turned on the lamp located on the small table next to his bed. He had fallen into a restless sleep thinking about the girl who was sleeping on the couch in the other room. If his family knew he had taken in some strange girl and comforted her and let her sleep in his hotel room, well, Nick shuddered to think of their reactions.
But Nick knew he did the right thing. He knew it as soon as he took her arm and guided her out of the rain. She looked almost lifeless and beyond wet, but she reminded him of another girl he once knew. One that he couldn't help. That he found out just a little too late what she was going through and now he had to live with the consequences of her actions. He had to live with the fact that she.... Nick shook his head and all those depressing thoughts away. All that mattered now is the girl who was currently sleeping on his couch. Hopefully, he had got to her in time. Hopefully, he had made a difference in her life.
He pushed the sheet off his body and swung his legs off the bed. Right before he stood up he noticed a pad of paper with writing on it on his table. He picked it up curiously and soon was reading it fervently.
Dear
I don't know you and I don't think you know me. And yet you took me in. We didn't say much. I refused to talk. And yet, I felt your love. I don't know how I felt that. There's no way you could possibly felt so much for someone you just met. But, thanks. The song helped. It was... beautiful. And thanks. For letting me cry all over you. What you told me helped a lot. I think I might go into writing. I can't make music, I can't sing, I can't dance, I can't draw. But maybe I can write. Maybe. And if all else fails and I find myself at the corner of a sidewalk leaning against a streetlight, maybe. Maybe I'll find you again. And maybe next time, I'll get to see your eyes. I bet they're beautiful. Just like the rest of you. Thanks again. You're truly an angel. And I'm glad you found me. Don't get me wrong. I wasn't in any danger of hurting myself. But without you, I might've lived the rest of my life with everything I ever felt bottled inside of me. I'd become worse than a zombie. But you changed that. Thank you beautiful stranger.
Love,
Me
Nick ripped the piece of paper off the pad and held it close to his heart. Tears of so many emotions poured through his eyes. His heart seemed to become filled with love and joy. He didn't know the girl and yet her words touched him more than anything ever had before.
He walked out of the room and over to the keyboard still in his pajamas the note still clutched in his hand. He placed the note on the top of the keyboard and began to play a mix of the melody he played the night before and a new melody that had haunted his dreams. As the two combined he found himself singing. The words flowed effortlessly from the note, to his head, and out his mouth. Within minutes he had created what would soon become the number one hit in American, maybe even the world.
Interviewers would ask what brought on the inspiration for his song. What compelled him to write it and every time he'd smile mysteriously and say, “My beautiful stranger. My girl at the streetlight.”
And somewhere out there, a girl with a smile on her face and laughter in her eyes got chills every time she heard the song, “From the Streetlight” by the Jonas Brothers. She couldn't explain it, but the lyrics seemed to be speaking to her and only her. And the melody..... part of the melody always seemed to haunt her mind bringing her back to that strange night her own beautiful stranger took her in and set her straight. And she would forever be grateful to him. Whoever he was. Whatever he looked like. She would never forget him..... the only thing she would regret about that night was that she never got to see...... his eyes.....
