I sit up all night. I alternate between staring out the window into the black curtain with glittery spots and drawing. At first, I don't know what I'm drawing. Perhaps I do, subconsiously, deep-down. But consiously, I have next to no idea. It starts to take shape. Its a street, with lamp-posts. There are houses lining the street, with the shutters fastened closed and the doors shut tightly. Except one. One shutter is slightly ajar and a little child peers out into the blank of the night surrounding their home. The street is far from bare. Empty food and merchandise carts are haphazardly balanced along the curbs, and leaves fill the gutters. An overturned bike occupies a section of pavement. There's a partially deflated balloon tied to a post. And there is a person. I'm not sure if its a man or a woman yet. They're standing in the center of the street, with their head cocked slightly. If the eyes were visible, I know they'd be trained on the child. I dont understand the picture.
I have unbearable hand cramps. I drop the tool I wielded, the well-known pencil. It rolls off of my desk's surface and clatters to the floor as I stretch, sounding like round after round of the world's loudest fireworks being lit one after another in an enclosed room. My eyes find the digital clock that flashes different colors in my windowsill. It reads 5:09. I'm nowhere near sleepy. Standing from the beanbag, I look at my clothing. School-Spirit, plaid, flannel shorts and a white t-shirt. Reaching for a sweatshirt, I pull on my flip-flops and throw the recently acquired sweater on over my t-shirt. I leave again, slipping quietly from the front door into the street, my fingers flying over my phone's keypad.
"Brandon. If you're awake and well, you oughta meet me at the Park."
I crank the volume on the device and push it into a pocket. I wander for ten, maybe fifteen minutes before my phone announces his message.
"Yehh. For sure, babe.:)"
I wince and start to walk towards the park. Babe? Lord, this would be heartwrenching if something bad happened between us, I could already tell. I sit on a swing at the park, swinging back and forth slowly. I just breathe. I inhale the scent of the slight dew on grass, and the decaying smell of wet, dead leave. I smell te woodchips covering the playground, the plasticy aroma around the slides, the metal tang from the swing supports and monkey bars, and the wet sand. I am completely out of this world when Brandon appears to me. I look at him through squinted eyes, semi-praying he's an apparition. Luck has turned its back on me, because he's not. I don't know why I had him come here. I should've just stayed by myself. I reach up my arms and he grabs my tiny, shaking hands, pulling me to my feet. I sway for a moment before gaining complete composure. I smile slightly and hold my arms out, waiting for a warm hug. He chuckles and wraps his arms around me in a gentle embrace.
"Hi." I whisper to the air, hoping the words would drift to his ears.
"Hello." he whispers back.
Its silent. Strangely, not an uncomfortable one. I can feel our body heat making the air column seperating our bodies a blazing zone. I dont know what to say. Brandon picks it up, realizing that Im at a loss.
"Whats up?" he questions, but in a non-questiony tone.
I shrug, realizing that my inner shy girl has taken over. He frowns.
"Don't be like that, Ash." He says, his eyebrows raising, causing little furrows in his forehead.
I smirk. "Nothing." replaces the shrug.
"I'll sing." he threatens.
I love his voice. "Go crazy." I laugh, any trace of an off mood gone.
He launches into Escape The Fate, "Ashley, Baby. You Make Me Feel So Alive. I've Got Purpose On-"
I clap my hand over his mouth. He grins against my palm.
"Twas that awful?" He says, his voice extremely muffled.
"Just extremely jaw-dropiing." I saw, dropping my hand.
Brrandon rolls his eyes, and I sit on the merry-go-round. He starts spinning it and I see the sun start to rise. It must be past 6:00. Damn. When he stops spinning, I jump off, dizzy.
"I have to go." I say, trying to stay upright.
A frown marrs his features.
"Okay." He hugs me, and I begin the (so not) treacherous trek to hell.
