DISCLAIMER: I don't own Night World.

A/N: Damn, another one? This is actually based on a video my sister showed me. So THANK YOU sis for showing me this beautiful video. –sniff-

Same Meaning, Different Words

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I'm blind. Please help.

The man was looking around. But he couldn't see anything. Everything was pitch black . . . and it was freezing as well. The man was now shivering, his hands shaking as he gripped his elbows. He was sitting at the bottom of the cold stone staircases in front of this monument, with a brown cardboard underneath him. He had a cardboard beside him that said "I'M BLIND. PLEASE HELP."

Many people passed him by, not giving him a glance. Only some glanced at him and gave him their spare change. He thanked them every time.

It was heartbreaking.

Clink. Clink.

Another one.

"Thank you," he gasped, his teeth slightly chattering. He faintly wondered if he could afford food for himself. He was starving. But he couldn't see. He wondered if he has any family relatives that would help him. Help him and accept him as he is.

Hannah was watching the old man.

She glanced at the laughing faces of the people around him, and how his is the only lonely one. She stood up. She wanted to help that man. And she will. Hannah looked around, running to a coffee shop.

"Excuse me," she panted. "Please, I need a marker. I will return it as quickly as I can."

The registrar, who was still busy with another customer, was surprised by Hannah. And so was the customer.

"I'm sorry," Hannah apologized to the customer and cashier, gulping a bit loudly. "I just really need a marker—"

"Here," the registrar said with a small smile. "You can have it. You seem desperate to have it."

"Thank you," Hannah said as she bowed her head gratefully. She apologized again to the customer and the registrar before running out of the shop and towards the old man.

It was about to snow. God, she missed Thierry. She wanted the Apocalypse to end. She wanted to run back to his arms. Her eyes began to sting and the back of her nose burned. When she reached the old man, Hannah bent down and took the sign.

She began to scribble on the backside of it as the old man touched her shoes, trying to figure out who this person is—who Hannah is.

"Here," she murmured to the old man. "I hope this will help you."

With that, Hannah gave the man a small smile and turned back, running back across from the old man, where she had been watching him.

Five minutes later, a couple passed by. They read the sign of the old man—the one that Hannah had scribbled on—and both pulled out changes from their pockets and dropped it in the old man's can.

"Thank you," the man breathed.

The couple nodded as they walked away. Another minute later, a person bent down and gave him all the change she had. The old man thanked the lady. Twenty minutes later, every person that had passed the old man stopped by and gave him their change. The old man bent his head down, a hand trying to move the can.

It was heavy with coins.

Hannah's eyes stung. The back of her nose burned again. She wanted to cry so badly. She helped someone. She actually helped someone. Hannah faintly wondered if Thierry could give this old man shelter . . . or at least . . . help this man.

She wiped her eyes just as another couple gave him their change.

God, I want Thierry right now, Hannah thought—nearly ready to cry. No, she had to be strong. The Apocalypse will end. It will end. She just hopes that the people would survive it. The good people, anyway.

Hannah stood up and ran back to the old man.

The old man noticed that this person was just standing in front of him. This must be the lady that helped him! He reached forward and touched her shoes. "You . . . thank you. God bless you," he murmured, coughing softly.

Hannah smiled, her eyes teary. She kneeled down in front of the man. "You are absolutely welcome. I would . . . like to help you in any way I can."

"You have helped me enough, miss," the old man said with a smile. A cheerful smile. "But . . . what did you do to my sign?"

"I wrote the same thing," Hannah answered with a grin. "I wrote the same thing but with different words."

The old man nodded with a smile. His marginally thick, dark gray goatee crinkled as he smiled at Hannah. She reached out and patted the old man's shoulder, squeezing it slightly. A reassurance that hope is out there—and will always be out there.

Hannah glanced at the sign she made, her heart pounding and her eyes going wet once again as she read the words she wrote.

It's a beautiful day and I can't see it.

She squeezed the old man's shoulder again. "I'll save you. My friends and I will save you guys."

The old man, though seeming confused, smiled and nodded. "Thank you. Thank you, miss."

"Be careful," Hannah told him as she stood up. "And who knows, I might see you around again." With that, she began to walk away, a determined look on her face.

She will save people like him. She will. She'll do anything in her power to do what's good.

And Hannah hoped to see that old man again. Maybe he'll be healthier . . .

Fortunately enough, she thought of Thierry again. The loneliness in his eyes when she left with the group on mission. She missed him. So much. She loves him. Hannah tugged on the silver cord and immediately felt a tug back—making her feel happy.

Happy that he's still there for her. Happy that Thierry is still waiting for her. Happy that she helped someone.

This is an experience she will never forget. She'll have to tell Thierry about this, too.

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A/N: I had tears in my eyes while I was watching the video! Okay, if you wanna watch it, go to Youtube and then type "The Power of Words" and the first video that pops up on the page is the video I reblogged on tumblr. *sniff* It was so beautiful. I love it. *hearts*

So what do you think about this? I hope it's okay…I don't think this is even a one-shot…so yeah… my second post for the tonight! Er, morning. Midnight. Whatever. O_O Thank you thank you thank you guys for viewing/reviewing/subscribing/faving/whatever-ing this story!

Um, so, review? :")