Chapter 5 continued.

I woke up.

Put on my comfort robe, made some coffee, and sat on the sofa.

I stared out the window.

"Molly, what are you doing?"

It was so tempting for today to be another one of those couch days, so tempting. But I knew for the better of me, I had better get up.

I got up. I Got dressed, and headed out the door.

I was walking, but I had no idea where I was going. So I went to Old Town, where wanderers go.

I couldn't believe how the city was so nice in the fall. Beyond nice. Everything, no matter how ugly, was now beautiful. The cold and the newly warm colors warmed me to my bones.

I was awfully close to the waterfront, watching early biking commuters running into early morning joggers. So I moved past them to get closer. The water was quiet and serene. When I looked into it, I could see my reflection. My face. The water was as still as it could of been, but my facing was moving. Moving in vast chunks, and never in one place. I felt like the water was the only one who truly saw me for who I was now. I wasn't me, I wasn't in one place. I was a mess of things I used to be, floating around, trying to put myself back together again.

I took one last glance and walked away.

I was walking on a sidewalk where nicely large bushes laid. I thought this made something man-made look more earthy, and thought it silly that we needed both environments in the same place. Then I saw something.

Something in the bushes.

It was a large lump, human size, with a blanket barely covering it. It didn't hit me at first, I thought it was a pile of garbage, but then I realized it was a person. It was so cold, but everything got colder at that point. I hesitated. I looked around me. People were farther away now. I knew then I had to do something. The thing I had waited for, maybe the thing that would make me normal again, had presented itself.

I hated homeless people. Not because of who they were, but what they represented. They represented the ultimate fear that was in my mind. Being alone, and not knowing where you belonged.

When I first started college, I was on my own. My parents were divorced, and I had lived with my father since I was fourteen. I had felt the sense of abandonment when I was younger, but not so much until I was finally legally an adult. On my birthday, my dad announced he wanted me out of the house. We had been close friends since the divorce, but when he pushed me out, I had never felt more alone or scared.

I bummed off of friends for months until I saved enough from my minimum wage job to move out in some ridiculously small space.

I thank him now, for forcing me to grow up. If I had not found my own way, I think I would still be stuck under his roof.

I bent down close, but not too close, to the person and whispered,

"Sir, excuse me, sir?"

Nothing.

"Sir?"

I gently put my palm on his back. I didn't need to nudge him, as soon as I did, he slowly came back to life.

"Ugh, don't worry, I'll be out of here soon."

His voice surprised me. I expected someone much older, but it seemed the guy was only middle aged, maybe younger.

"No sir, I'm not trying to move you. I was just wandering if you were alright."

The lump removed his blankets. I saw him now, a real person. He was a young man in his thirties, probably. He had a full grown beard, and long shaggy hair that outlined his face and eyes. His piercingly sad eyes held a hint of malice, maybe at the world, government, but at the moment, it was me.

"I'm fine. You can leave now."
"Are you sure there isn't something I can help you with?"
"No."
"Are you hungry?"
"I'm Homeless. I'm always hungry."
"Well, we are right by Stumptown Coffee. Do you want some coffee?"
"I can't go in there."

I felt horrible for him. He seemed like what I was on the inside, only I was clean and had a home. Behind the beard and the gruffness, I could tell he was somebody once. Someone who used to be handsome, and maybe even liked life when it was going his way.

"Well, how bout I get some food or something, and bring it back here to you?"

He was hesitant. I knew he wanted food, I could see it in his face, but even though he was a street man, he was polite.

"Um, if you want."
"Yeah. What would you like?"
"Whatever is cheap I guess, and maybe a coffee."
"What kind?"
"Black is fine."
"Great."

I ran away, I had a sudden burst of excited energy. At first I was unsure why, but then I realized I was overwhelmed with gratitude. This man had given me a purpose, even if momentarily, to not think of my own problems and issues.

I came back with the hot coffee, and a small regular doughnut. When I went to hand it to him, he just sort of looked at it for a minute as if it wasn't real. Then he took it slowly.

When he drank from the cup, his demeanor seemed to ease everywhere. He looked up at me.

"Thank you."

It was sincere.

"Not a lot of people would of done this."

"Yeah...To tell you the truth, in all honesty I'm surprised I even did."

I felt pathetic. Not for him, but for myself. He wasn't surprised though.

"Yeah, it's ok. A lot of people are self driven. That's just how it is here. I suppose we all should just move to Iceland."

"Why is that?"

"It's proven it's the happiest country on earth, because when people fail over there, it's accepted. It doesn't matter."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"That sounds perfect."

"There's no such thing."

"Yeah, I guess your right. But it's something desirable. Where did you hear about Iceland?"

"Something I read once..."

"Hmm."

There was a moment of silence. Not so much the deadly silence though, the one that means death. It was a nice silence. I suddenly realized at that moment I was sitting next to a bum who was eating my breakfast. It was so odd. So odd for me. I was sitting next to my biggest fear. He was what I never wanted to be, what I couldn't even look at most days. What I was afraid to look at.

"So what's your story?"

He said.

I almost laughed that he was the one asking me.

"My story?"

"Yeah, everyone has one. I hear almost a new one everyday. A lot of people tell me, even without me asking."

"Mine isn't very interesting."

"I'm sure it is."

I didn't know what to tell him. I didn't really feel anything. I was a dead beat.

"Well, maybe I'll tell you mine."

"I'd like that."

"I grew up in Boston, Massachusetts,"

I shrugged. Just the sound of the place...

"I had a nice family, they treated me well. Somehow, I hated them for it. So i left. I went to college. Got my master's in English Literature, had a family of my own, and they hated me like I hated mine. So they left me, and I left the world."

Silence.

"Wow."

"Yeah, that's life though isn't it?"

"I would hate to think so, but some things turn out really fucked up."

"Yeah."

"What's your name?"

"John."

"I'm Molly."

"It's a pleasure."

Chapter 5

"Molly?

Listen, I'm just calling to-, to catch up I guess.

Truth be told, I miss hearing your voice...

A lot's going on over here, I think you would like it. Everyone's busy with life, it's exciting...

Apart of me feels like I don't belong, though. Maybe you know why, you always knew.

You can call if you want, if not, then I guess at least I got to hear your answering machine..."

The last time I saw him was when we mutually agreed to part ways. We were at our usual place, some old Italian get up. I guess it seemed natural to go because we had spent so many of our occasions there. Birthdays, Holidays, celebrations of accomplishments, big or small. I order a rough chocolate dessert and stare at it, not finishing for another hour. Stupid dessert. I remember how grateful I felt to the dessert. It was the only thing that brought me some comfort in the place. It had all seemed foreign to me now, and growing colder by the minute.

He reached out and grabbed my hand to get my attention. The chocolate layers held my attention, everything else held my attention more than him now. Finally, slowly, I looked up at him. I shouldn't have, I knew I shouldn't have. It meant vulnerability. I had power with not looking, but I gave in. I wanted to hope, but I knew I didn't have a chance really. I met his gaze, and instead of expecting sadness, I saw nothing but happiness. He was awkwardly happy, and he couldn't hold it back. I felt like slapping him. How could he be such a schmuck?

I didn't know this person anymore, he had transformed into a perfectly irritating stranger.

I thought about that night when I had finally laid in my bed. The weather outside made my room even more appealing, and I was excited that warm jammys were finally appropriate. I tried laying on my side, but then resulted to my back. I looked straight up at the ceiling like I eventually did almost every night. Except this night felt different. I realized apart of me was coming back, the part where I felt at peace a little. I smiled. I wasn't sure why, but I guess time was finally running its course. Slowly but surely. I was still sick with the feeling of being numb.

I thought about Raleigh. His name was so friendly, it was the perfect name for him. I was sure he was perfectly friendly to everyone, but I had the feeling he picked the revolting bitter heads for himself. I smiled again. I was so confused why he chose to bother me, to spy on me, and why he didn't just leave me alone sitting there in my hole.

"I'm leaving tonight. But I want to see you again."
"Why?"
"Just tell me I can see you again."
"Maybe."
"At least that's not a possibly."

Perfect smile.

"Where will I find you?"
"Maybe you'll run into me again."

I smiled.

"Just don't move to England or anything."

We smirked.

I left him there at the cafe. I could feel his eyes burning into the middle of my back. I glanced over my shoulder once, and he gave me a devastatingly sincere smile. He didn't have to say anything. We both felt the same way, like we were leaving a dear friend whom we knew nothing about. Except I was trying to conceal it more than he.

I wondered in my bed when I would run into him again. Or would I ever?

I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. I knew it was Laurel coming to check up on me.

*Knock* *Knock*

"Molly?"

"Yeaahhh?"

Without a welcome, she came in anyway. She knew she was already welcome regardless any circumstances, especially with the recent one with me being a zombie and all.

She jumped and sat next to me on my bed, turning on the low lamp light on my night stand.

"I was at school today."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I had painting."

"That's cool."

"I saw you."

"Oh, you did?"

"Yeah, with a guy."

My face was in my pillow, but I could see her smirking in my head. I didn't respond to her, I knew she was going to make a big deal out of it.

"He was really cute. No, I take that back. He was handsome. Stoic, really."

I bounced up.

"I know, right?"

"As soon as I saw his face, I wanted to remember it, maybe draw it even."

"Ha ha! I felt the same way."

"So, what was up with that? Why were you with a guy?"

"I just met him today. It was really strange actually."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I ran into him at Powell's. I tried to make him piss off, but he wouldn't leave me alone."

"That's strange, I can't imagine that."

Her sarcasm was perfect. Probably from living with me. It had finally taken it's tole on her innocent niceness.

"Don't be like me."

"Ha, whatever. I can't be like you, I'm still in school."

"What? How do you know?"

"You kidding? I followed you and overheard. Plus, I'm an aid to student services. How else do you think people are going to react? You had one year left, and then you could of done anything you wanted."

"I could do anything now. That's what art is, right? You don't need a time limit in art."

"It's true, but if you had finished you could of gotten a job anywhere Molly. You know that."

"Do I? I don't think so."

"Well you should. People would kill for you."

"Not everyone."

Then she remembered how pitiful I was.

"You need to snap out of it. It's been more than two months now."

"Doesn't feel like it."

"Yeah, well the asshole keeps on calling, so I guess not."

"You're so lucky Laurel."

She smirked a smile. She made sure it wasn't to happy in my presence, but I knew she was happy. I was happy for her too, but extremely angry as well. She had Mark. She had someone, someone who was good to her. I had no one.

"Molly, I have something to tell you. But I don't want you to get upset."

"What?"

"Well, he proposed."

She was right, I was extremely angry. I wanted to cry angry tears, but I held them back. Happy little ones seeped through. I immediately hugged her so she wouldn't see.

"Molly, are you okay?"

"Yeah Laurel, I'm just really happy for you. Really."

"Oh good, I was so worried."

"Don't worry about me anymore, okay? I'm gonna straighten some shit out."

"Really? Please, don't do anything drastic."

"I won't. I've decided I need to do something, something I've never done. I'm still in search of what that is, but I know that whatever it is, it has to be extremely vulnerable so I can find myself again."

"That's good. But you know, you still are Molly."

"Yeah I know, but I don't feel like it I guess."

"Ok, well, what are you gonna do tomorrow? I don't want you to be here again by yourself."

"Don't worry, I'm going out."

"Ok, you want me to come with you?"

"No, it's okay. I'd rather be alone tomorrow."

"Ok, well, goodnight."

"Night, and congratulations."

"Thanks, Moll."

I was frustrated.

My best friend was getting married, and I would be the lone bridesmaid. It was so cliché. But I was happy for her, I would lose her, but I was happy for her. Another friend, my favorite one, was getting her dream with the best guy for her.

I thought about a lot of things in my bed. The coming months, what I would be doing, how I would be making money, and how I would be changing my life.

How does one change their life?

How does one live a life?

This is when I realized I was too much of an artist again. Stupid. For once, I wished I thought like a regular human. Like someone who doesn't know too much. Someone who has seen it all, and still likes life.

Someone who was the opposite of me now.