I have such bad writer's block! I want to write but it's like my brain won't let me. :((

So this is The Lost Get Found by Britt Nicole, who I'm loving at the moment. (I know, a little late huh) I also love Headphones and When She Cries. I don't really like the end of this but you can tell me what you think :)

Two strangers walk through the same path, but at different sides of the road, their heads down, one shaggy blonde mop of hair walking in a defeatist fashion, mouth curved down into a frown that sighed every now and again, one dark pixie crop skipping though it was raining and she was crying, her silent teardrops falling to the ground in a salty mess.

And then suddenly she's laughing, looking to the crying sky and just laughing. She looked like she belonged in a mental institution, her make up a mess and her dress ripped at the knees, heels caked in mud, but to him, she looked beautiful. She begins to mutter, "Why me?"

He watches from the other side of the road, his hair over his left eye, his arms folded guardedly in front of his chest, but he nods. Why her? Why did he feel the need to rush over to her, take her hand, ask her if she was okay, if she needed to be taken home. Something inside of him told him that she didn't have much of a home, but he'd take her to Neverland if only she asked him to. She looks so alive, and he's so dead inside. He wants to scream at her, "Don't let your fire burn out, don't be afraid to stand out."

It kills him to continue walking, leave her praying to someone up there, demanding her answers, but he can't let himself rob her of her light just because someone stole his. He never prays anymore. He swallows hard and decides to continue on with his journey, not that he knew where he was going. He groans in frustration, unsure of what to do as the girl sits on the pavement now and starts to cry more bitterly, forgetting whatever made her laugh just mere minutes ago. He argues with himself - if it was one of his sisters, he'd want someone to find her and help her, but this girl looked as if she didn't want to be found.

While he was thinking, the girl stood and composed herself, closing her eyes for a moment before taking a deep breath, fishing a tissue from her pocket, and wiping her eyes. The boy stands, bemused, as he watches her paint her face with mascara, lipstick, blusher on her deathly pale cheeks, and a harsh eyeliner. She squints into a little mirror and gives a watery smile to her reflection. "Pull yourself together, Alice," she whispers.

"Alice," he breathes, a hopeful look on his face. He hopes she will notice him, and give him that smile, but she simply begins to walk in the direction he was heading, yet still on the other side. Alice - such a beautiful name for a beautiful girl, the boy thinks. He bites his lip. Something about this girl has got him stirred up, and incredibly anxious. He's worried about this strange fairy - no, pixie - girl that he hadn't even spoke to, and he doesn't know why.

Finally, he gives up. He cares too much about her well-being to damage her with his past and baggage, though deep down he knows that she has just as much, if that show in the street was anything to judge it by. He sticks to his decision as...Alice is out of sight. He continues up the path walkway.

As the rain begins to fall heavily, the young man ducks under a doorway, which he soon discovers is a diner. He shakes his head and water droplets fly askew everywhere.

"Watch it! Youngsters these days! Sit down, bright eyes, it's self seating,"

"Thanks," he mutters, scanning the room for a seat. The only seat is next to a small girl at the bar. She's asking for a glass of wine but they won't serve her as she looks too young. She sighs angrily and slams her hand on the table.

"Yes?" The bartender says, raising his eyebrow. The girl's angry face instantly changes to a shocked face and she forces a smile.

"A milkshake..please."

"Coming right up."

The boy doesn't recognize her at first - he's too concentrated on his own drink, a pint of beer - but he does soon afterwards. His head snaps up as she sighs again, sipping her strawberry milkshake, again saying "why me".

He plucked up the courage to introduce himself, but she beat him to it, "I'm-"

"Jasper," Alice fills in, winking mysteriously. "And I'm-"

"Alice." Jasper shot back, holding out his hand. Alice pouted slightly.

"I was looking forward to that."

"Do you want to start over, madam?" He grins.

"No, once was enough," she giggles, embarrassed.

"Don't ever let your fire burn out, Alice," he finally manages to tell her.

"Don't be afraid to stand out," she replies instantly, and they've both hit a raw nerve.

There's a girl on the street; she's crying, there's a man whose faith is dying. Love is calling them..

Sometimes standing out is how the lost get found.