Today I finished this really good book called Revolution by Jennifer Doelley (I probably didn't spell that right) and I absolutely loved it. It's an amazing book about a troubled teen and the French Revolution and music and the parts about music really got to me today, so I wrote this.

I seriously recommended the book, but for teenagers 14+. There's a little mature content. Nothing graphic, just for more mature people.

Enjoy! I own nothing but my OC.

Sometimes I need to get away from everything. Sometimes, I need to leave all the baggage that comes with being me behind. I stop being the eldest of four, the leader of a team, and a soldier in an intergalactic war, and become Leo. Just a teenager out for a breath of fresh, quiet air. Albeit a teenager who happens to be a mutant turtle that knows ninjitsu.

Tonight is one of those nights. I don't know what it is, but I feel restless. Not the kind of restless my brothers seem to feel, the want to jump and tease and laugh. My restless is a thirst, a thirst that seems to only be quenched by a trip up to the world above the sewers where the sky and stars are the only ceiling and there are no walls. No confinement, no one to give you rules that restrain your movements. Just myself and the stars and the wind.

I slip out of the tunnels below the pavement of the city and climb a fire escape without a sound. Without any destination in mind, I begin to run. I don't run to anywhere or from anything. I run simply to run and cure my restlessness. The wind is strong tonight and it streams past my face at breath-snatching speeds, my mask tails being carried along in the flow, wiping around my face and bending and flapping and snapping like mini-flags. The wind pushes me, but I push harder and fight back, and because of that the exhilaration I feel is so much stronger. My feet stab the roofs beneath me, pounding their way down then pushing off just as fast and just as string to propel me forward. I leap and spin and flip over gaps that most people wouldn't be able to jump half of, and I allow my body to temporarily be suspended over nothing but air, over heights most sane people would avoid at all costs. Thanks to my training, I preform these feats with ease, savoring the thrill of action. I never feel more alive then during these unearthly hour excursions, my breath coming out in hard gasps and my heart pounding like a drum in a rock song, and I revel in them, my restlessness becoming a distant faded memory.

I don't know when I arrive, I just know I do. At some point during the long night, I reach the edge of the city, where skyscrapers turns to trees. A huge park, dropped into the city. Central Park, to be exact. A forest of trees that are as out of place as a shark in the desert. I stare at the sight for a long while, then break the spell and slip down to the ground.

Careful to be sure I'm alone, I cross the street and enter the park. I have never been here before, and for the first time, I feel grass beneath my feet. It squishes down, but still manages to tickle the soles of my feet. I move for the trees, and conceal myself with the massive trunks. Safely hidden from sight, I dart between the trees, exploring the park from the shadows.

I must run for over a mile before I stumble upon her.

I find myself on the edge of a concrete path through the park. A streetlight illuminates it, and I can see a park bench on the shoulder of the path. Upon it sits a girl holding a guitar. Not electric, just a regular white beat-up guitar. An equally beat-up black guitar lays open at her feet, and the girl is tuning the guitar without looking at it. I frown. How can she do that? Then I take a closer look at her eyes. They are clouded and unfocused. Although I have never seen eyes like these in real life, I know what they mean. This girl is blind. I look at her a second time. The girl is rather skinny with a lanky frame to begin with. Her hair falls past her shoulders to about halfway down her chest, a faded blond that seems white in the fluorescent glow of the streetlight. She wears no makeup of any sort, and wears a plain light blue T-shirt and faded, torn, scruffy blue jeans that drag the ground.

The girl finishes her task and places her long, slender fingers on the strings of the guitar, cradling it in her lap as the other hand searches for the right string. She finds it, slips a guitar pick from her palm into her fingers, and begins to strum. A beautiful melody floats from where she sits to my ears. I don't recognize the tune, but it strikes something familiar in me.

I should probably move on, move away from the stranger. But, I don't. My feet stay glued to the ground as I let the graceful, haunting, sad song wash over me and fill me with emotion. The girl is blind. She can't see me, and I will make sure she won't hear me. There's no danger, and besides. There is something about that incredible music that makes me want to stay.

The music changes. Where before, up to this point, the song was sorrowful and soft and slow, the tempo picks up and the music rings a little louder, a more upbeat but still beautifully melodic series of notes taking over. The song seems to represent a new dawn to me, a chance at a new hope, a new dream after a horrible war, a horrible storm. The music snakes its way into my soul and swirls around inside, making itself at home. This blind girl, whoever she is, is extremely talented.

With a final chord, the girl finishes the song and lets the last notes hang in the air, as if not daring to ruin the atmosphere the music has set over the park. I wake up from the daze I've been relaxing in for the last few minutes. I should probably go, before I do something that gets me in trouble. But, I can't. Instead, against my better judgement, I creep closer to the girl. And in the most cliched way in the history of cliched ways to get caught, I step on a twig. The crack echos through the trees, and the girl's head whips towards where I stand, her near white hair spinning with her to create a halo for a few second.

"Who's there?" She asks.

Caught, I slink out of the woods, still careful to avoid the light even though she is blind.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." I say.

"What were you doing spying on me in the woods?" She accuses, conveying a sense of annoyance through her body language.

"I wasn't spying. I was just walking in the woods when I heard you playing."

"Oh, I'm sorry. You didn't need to hear that, I know I'm not any good." She apologizes.

"Not any good?" I repeat, astonished. "That was amazing. It was one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard. You're amazing."

"Not really." She says humbly. "There are thousands of people better than me."

"Well, it was still beautiful. I think you're great."

"Thanks. So what brings you to these neck of the woods?"

Oh, boy. Think of an excuse, think of an excuse. "Just out for some fresh air. It can get kinda claustrophobic at home, particularly in the pressure category." There, not a lie.

"I can relate." She sighs, and I feel a strike of sympathy for the girl. It can't be easy being blind.

"I'm Leo." I say in a flash of boldness.

"Anastasia, but everyone calls me Anna."

"That's a pretty name." I say without thinking. I suddenly blush and then start to stammer. "Um, I - I mean -"

Anna laughs, and it sounds like bells and the rain. "Thanks."

I chuckle myself, a bit embarrassed. "It's better than Leonardo, that's for sure."

"Leonardo? That's your full name? I like it. It's - strong. Brave. Like a warrior." She says dreamy.

"Well, that's kinda what it means. Strong As A Lion or Lion Bold." I explain, blushing. "What does Anastasia mean?"

"Resurrection, stupidly enough." I laugh and Anna smiles.

"Do you take music lessons?" I ask, curious.

"Yeah, a couple of times a week." Anna answers.

"They pay off, I assume. That was incredible."

"So you keep saying." She teases, smiling.

"It's true. What else can you play?" I ask, surprised by my own curiosity. What am I doing? I should be making excuses and running home.

"A lot of songs, though lately I really like playing Say Something by A Great Big World. I don't know why. It's a really pretty song, even if it is a bit sad."

"Could you play it?" I request.

"It's a duet." She warns, a smirk growing on her face. "If I play, you have to sing with me."

My eyes grow wide. "What? Uh, no, I can't. I don't sing." I blush.

"You should. You have a good voice."

"Huh?" I cock my head.

"Your voice sounds good. I bet you're a great singer."

"I - I don't know." Oh, why did I bring it up?

"Come on. You sound like you could use a good song. Sing it with me."

I sigh. "Fine. But I warn you, I am a horrible singer." Anna just smiles, and begins strumming. I recognize the opening bars, and when I hear my cue, I start singing.

Say something, I'm giving up on you.

I stop, my nerves getting the best of me, but Anna just nods and smiles and keeps playing. I continue.

I'll be the one, if you want me to

Anywhere, I would've followed you.

Say something, I'm giving up on you.

Anna smiles, plays a few more notes, then her voice joins mine as I sing the next verse.

And I am feeling so small

My eyes widen at her voice. It's just as beautiful as her guitar, light and melodious. I almost miss the next verse, marveling at her wonderful voice.

It was over my head,

I know nothing at all

And I will stumble and fall

I'm still learning to love,

Just starting to crawl.

Anna plays a few more bars, and then we start the chorus. In spite of myself, I start to smile and slowly come closer to the bench.

Say something I'm giving up on you

I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you

Anywhere I would have followed you

Say something I'm giving up on you

Anna continues to play the slow song and I gently sit down on the bench, sitting on the other side, as far away from Anna as I can.

And I will swallow my pride

You're the one

That I love

And I'm saying goodbye . . . .

Anna plays a few quick, exciting notes and builds up tension. The entrance of the climax of the song. As I sing the next few verses, I put everything I have into the song. All my emotions, all my thoughts, all my memories, all my passion.

Say something, I'm giving up on you

And I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you

And anywhere I would have followed you

Ohhh-ah-ohh-ooohhhh

Say something, I'm giving up on you

Anna's voice fills with emotion and picks up as well, both of our voices colliding and intertwining. Like two spirits, they seem to have a life force of their own, and fill the empty silence with beauty and passion. The guitar, combined with our voices, creates an amazing feeling inside me, one a thousand times better than running across the rooftops. I never want this feeling to end. Unfortunately, the song is almost over. We dial it back for the last two verses.

Say something, I'm giving up on you

Say something . . . .

Annna plays the last couple notes, and I can scarcely breathe, not wanting the spell the music has cast. Anna must feel the same way, because for minutes afterwards, we simply sit in silence.

Finally though, Anna speaks.

"I told you you have a great voice."

"Me?" I chuckle. "You're the one with the great voice. You sound amazing."

"Only because you're really good, Leo." She insists. "Give yourself some of the credit." She pauses. "Say, 12% of the credit."

I laugh. "You're an Iron Man fan?"

"Love him. He's hilarious. I've never seen him, of course, but he sounds awesome and his jokes are the best."

"Amen." I nod, then blush, realizing she can't see me. Of course, that's probably the only reason she didn't run away screaming when I first appeared.

"I'm serious, though. You're really good."

"How about this? If I admit I have a good voice, you admit you have one too and can play the guitar insanely well."

She smiles and chuckles, and I like that it was me that made her do it. "All right. I'm amazing at the guitar and singing. Your turn."

"I have a good voice."

"See? How hard was that?"

I smile, then frown as I feel my T-phone vibrate. I pull it out. The timer I set is going off. I have to head home now.

"What's that?" Anna asks.

"My phone informing me I have to go home. Thanks Anna. I really enjoyed this." I say as I get up off the bench.

"You're welcome. You sounded like you needed a song." She says, putting her guitar in the case and fastening it shut.

I frown. "I what?"

"When you started talking to me. You sounded like you needed a release, and the best one I know is a song. So I played you one."

I don't know quite how to respond to that. "Okay."

She giggles. "I know. I sound crazy. But when you can't see, you rely on your other senses. For me, it's my hearing. Probably why I like music so much." She lifts the guitar case up and throws a strap over her shoulder, the case hanging on her back now. She grabs a cane I didn't notice before and starts to leave. "Bye Leo."

"Wait!" I call, and she stops. "Will I ever see you again?"

"I'm here every night. Come find me if you ever need a song, or if you want to talk. Between you and me, I'd like it if you'd visit."

I smile. "I will."

"Bye Leo!" She sings, waving over her shoulder as she walks away.

"Bye Anna." I sing back, then turn away and head back to my own home, the first song she played ringing in my head.

Could you please review? Please?