To be honest, I don't really remember much about what happened that night. . .
It was all so sudden, so quick, as if he were a flash of lightning. . .
Whom I am referring to, you may ask yourself, is . . . well . . . actually, I don't know his name. Or where he's from, or why he came. . . All I remember, however was that he had eyes as red as the blood that dropped from my lips . . . and that he saved me that night. . .
The weather was cold, and the sky was covered in clouds that gave obvious notice that it was about to rain. Perfect. The moon, though hidden from my view always seemed to comfort me. You know the feeling . . . do you not . . . like that blanket you had as a child. You know the one. It never left your hands no matter where you went or how far you traveled?
I had always walked home from work this way, always, no exceptions. But you see this night was different; I had never walked home this late. The book store where I was currently employed had decided that they were going to hold a convention, and of course, I got roped onto the clean up crew. My boss hates me, she always has; but that isn't important right now.
The water from the puddles began to cling to the bottom of my jeans as did mud and dirt and blades of grass, etc. I cursed silently to myself, for not giving into my pride and asking my brother for a ride home, these were new pants, and now, they were dirty and stained.
There was a slight
rustle in the grass next to me, but I figured that it was just the
wind. . . I was right, of course, but not in the manner I had
thought. Then it started to rain. I love the rain, the way it
tastes, the way it feels on your skin, how it seems to make people
feel awake and alive. A smile crossed my face.
Rustle,
rustle. There it was again, only this time, there was no wind. I
stopped and looked about me. The foolish child I was.