Miscellaneous - A Disturbance in the Atmosphere
I want to tell you where to find a unique road nobody else knows
The road will be long, and there will be many obstacles in your way
You will feel you must walk it, but all you know will tell you differently
You may think of not taking that road, and just stay on the main road
It will be easier to stay where you are and simply wonder what if
It may be easier, but the price you pay is the taste of life
They will tell you about responsibilities and what is expected from you
No matter what they say, you should know that the road you need to walk could only be walked alone
I want to tell you where to find a unique road nobody else knows
Follow your heart, that's the road to living your life
This is the only way that leads you where you have to go
Do you know how it feels when all of the sudden, you meet someone, and they turn your world around?
Do you know how it feels when the world starts spinning, and you hang onto that person as everything changes and all you ever knew for sure suddenly isn't true anymore?
Do you know how it feels when someone turns your world around, then leaves you, hanging onto slippery bars to keep from dissapearing into the darkness?
How do you go on, after the world turned?
***
I was fifteen.
You know when you're fifteen... You feel on top of the world, and you and the people you hang with are the coolest and you can do anything you want... And your parents only annoy and bring you down...
Well, you know the drill. When you're fifteen, the world is yours. Those are the days.
I wasn't so different back then. But things change, don't they?
Overtime, they do. But usually, your world doesn't turn around in just one week. As it was my case.
Let's start on Monday.
***
I was never one of the popular crowd. I didn't really care, no. I had my two best friends, and that was that. I was happy. It was enough.
"Drey!" A voice called out behind me.
I smiled as I turned around, immidiately recognizing the voice.
I had known Mia for as long as I could remember. In kindergarden, this kid stole my dolly. Mia hit him over the head, and from that moment on we were inseperatable. Friendship was so easy back then.
Mia came running up to me, in her usual colorfull appearance.
Mia is the girl who makes you turn around to look after her. She looks different everyday, but there was always enough to look at. She accentuated her looks with necklaces, scarfs, ribbons tied around everything. She was like a giftwrapping.
Being the alternative, artistic, different kind of rebellish punk girl Mia was never that popular. But who cares.
She caught up with me, grinning like mad.
"Are you ready for the last week of school? One more week, and we will have ultimate freedom!"
I laughed. Mia lived towards every break and vacation. She said 'school supresses our ability to speak our minds by corrupting those in ways beyond my imagination'.
"Of course I'm ready. Hopefully we won't get too much homework!"
"Oh shush. You shouldn't be complaning, with that uber-Einsteinish brain of yours."
She was right, i am smart. I have been for quite sometime. But my good grades weren't the result of just intelligence; unlike most students I actually took the time to study.
"Let's go find Brendon."
We made three rounds across school before giving up. Brendon had a rare trait which gave him the ability to never be where you thought he would be.
While making our way too the homeroom, Bren ran into us and we linked arms, parading into class.
Of course, all eyes first fell to Mia. Brendon and I, Audrey Miles, almost fell into nothingness compared to Mia. But I didn't really care. I wasn't the one to show off with whatever I had, and Brendon has always been just plain shy.
***
School is exhausting. I remember being very relieved when I finally graduated. No more classes, no more homework, no more teachers nagging at the same subject over and over again.
I think that the government keeps us in school to deprive us of our youthfull creativity. When done with the 'bootcamp', we end up just as boring as our parents, even though we swore to never become like them.
But I didn't think such things back then. Mia was the one protesting against everything she could sign a petention against, Mia is the one who could go on for hours about the 'horrors of society' as she called it.
She never effected me that much. But he did somehow.
Let's get to our first meeting.
***
I smiled as the waitress in her prissy waitress-uniform placed my strawberry smoothie in front of my nose.
After one week of school, finally the vacation had arrived. Mia took this chance to visit some art convention, and Brendon always seemed to dissapear from the face of the earth after school closed.
Every afternoon, I could be found in that perticulair diner, slurping down various cold, fruity beverages. It was the summer of smoothies.
When I was young, I used to do alot of people watching.
Mia, being the floaty person she was, believed that someones intire past and soul could be read from the movements of the body. After she forced me into trying it sometimes, I secretly got hooked and graduately perfected my skills.
It's funny to see how the adverage visitor of a diner is always hasty to grab a coffee and get to work, while keeping their eyes glued to their watch constantly. Of course, there where the individuals such as me, just enjoing a cold drink, refreshed by the coolness the airconditioning spread out. But most teenagers could be found on the beach, flirting and playing beach volleyball endlessly, lighting campfires and making out in the dunes later on the evening.
Therefor, the diner was pretty much empty all the time. Me knowing the owner, sometimes he came over to start some small talk. I didn't care much for such mindless chats, I cared more for a conversation with several levels of depth. But I had been raised politely enough to keep shut about that, and play along.
The second Tuesday into the vacation was just the same.
No costumers but hasty businessmen, in sweaty soots carrying strictly black briefcases. One time a young couple came around, but I didn't mind them since all they did was sit in a back booth and make out way too much for comfort. I hated it when people went touchy-touchy in public. It felt embaressing.
And then, he walked into the room. I didn't know anything about him back then, but that would soon change. Of course, I didn't know that either. He seemed just another boy, though he did capture my attention.
Let me discribe the event in details, because I remember every color, every smell ever so clearly.
The door swung open, the little dangeling bell informing the owner who was busy back, that a costumer had arrived.
I took my glass, and took a sip, averting my eyes from the book I was reading to label the newcomer.
To mu surprise, he wasn't to be labelled. None of my stereotypes seemed to fit onto this guy, or young man should I say.
He wore a hawaian shirt, one of those colorfull, shapeless whirts with obnoxious prints you can find at almost any giftshop. A worn pair of baggy jeans, messily cut at the knees. black flipflops covered his feet.
His hair was darkbrown, almost black, and had a few lighter streaks running through.
His eyes were the most astounding green, emerald jewels sparkling in the sun. I tried to probe him, but as he walked past me all I smelled was a scent of dirt. Dirt, silty ocean air, and tobacco.
I liked it.
He sat down at the bar, on one of the bar stools which are never comfortable to sit on because they make your ass hurt after occupying them longer then ten seconds. A waitress in another prissy uniform took his order, and hurridly scurried away to fix whatever it was this guy wanted.
I shook my head at the weird wardrobe of this dude, wondered if he was nuts for a second and returned to my book.
I couldn't help but glance back, and I saw the same prissy waitress in her prissy uniform deliver mister Mystery a strawberry smoothie.
I smiled inwardly, and my mind layed a connection it shouldn't have thought about.
As I didn't pay attention when taking another sib of my own smoothie, I choked and started coughing like some downtown addict with ammonia.
While I was in desperation, trying not to choke myself to death-
God that would be sad. Me, a fifteen year old girl, cause of death: choked on a smoothie. That would make one hell of a headline, am I right?
Anyways, my always lucky self [ahem, not] managed to survive this incident.
Of course, you already got that because if I died right there, choking on a smoothie like some downtown addict with ammonia, in a distant diner most people failed to notice, I wouldn't be telling you my story right now.
I'm getting of track.
After straightening myself up, I couldn't help but glance around. If anyone was watching my near-death, I would be embaressed, and the shy part of me would blush.
Back then I used to blush alot. I was the kind of girl who cared too much about what other people thought, even though I would never willingly admit the fact.
If it was amazing concidence or a decision of fate, somehow my gaze got stuck it the gaze of Mystery Dude.
For some reason I quickly looked away, or at least I tried. My eyes pulled themselves back to his emerald orbs, and we spent the next ten [yes, ten] minutes staring at eachother plainly.
He cocked an eyebrow, and I did the same.
He smiled, I did the same.
He stuck out his tongue and boggled his eyes at me.
I laughed.
It had been a while since I had truely laughed, and I enjoyed it more then I thought I would.
I realised I did not know who this person was [he could be a childmolestor for all I knew - though I was no child and he seemed like any other boy], and my laughter died down.
Somehow my heart saddened. Something inside me ached, but I choose to keep the emotion hidden.
Why pay so much attention to a stranger?
I don't know. Something in my mind told me he would be of grave importance in my life, and I knew that this something was right. However, my common sense smacked me in the face and I went back to my book, loosing myself again in the wonderfull world of science fiction.
Suddenly, Mystery Dude chugged down his strawberry smoothie, left a tip for the waitress and walked out the door, hands stuck casually in his pockets.
I just barely registered the wink he sent in my direction.
I sat there for a few minutes, staring at where he had been sitting, on the uncomfortable barstool. It was hard to believe he was ever there. It felt like he had just dissapeared, vanished into thin air.
A smile came to my lips.
Coming back to my senses, I gathered my stuff - book, sunglasses, waterbottle, chewing gum and notepad with matching ballpoint -, threw the entire bunch down my backpack, slung it over my shoulder and hurried myself out of the diner.
He was long gone.
I let out a breath I hadn't even realised I was holding.
***
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