Second; October 2006

I am having this awkward tense feeling. It is more like some sort of calling, that I am not capable of responding to. I do not understand how I read actual phrases on someones body. I toss myself onto the couch, as I hurl my hands in the air, with both confusion and exhaustion. I lye there. I attempt to relax. With my eyes shut, and my hands to my side, I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. My fingers feel as though they are vigorously playing the piano, uncontrollably at my sides. He somehow has constructed an indent in my life. Was I just imagining the thoughts and statements I read all over his black and white wardrobe. I stare at the ceiling, as my fingers continue to play a random tune on the couch. I sigh. I allow my body to turn to its side. I continue calming myself. Should I take a chance to help assist him, or end up hurting my self in process. This "feeling" I do not feel out of pity, but out of a variety of feelings that even I, can not comprehend. I feel as though I need to assist him.

I flip myself onto my back once again, and set my hands upon my forehead. Where do I start? I do not want to feel this anxiety that I have developed, from not knowing, any longer. The opportunities I have to help him, obtain many results. The possibilities are endless. It is in my control, yet somehow I feel completely out of control.

It is October now, the nights keep getting darker and colder as the month continues. The leaves have began changing their pigment, and are about to slowly create a blanket for the ground below. The cars, lawns and roof tops, accumulate more frost made by the, what feels like, negative degree weather. I wear practically my whole closet just to feel nuke warm. My fingers, toes and ears feel as though they are not one with the rest of my frostbitten limbs. The freezing weather is not on my mind, but the fact that it has been a horrible, mind boggling three months since have not seen or heard of, who I found out to be, Taylor. I continue my slow breathing routine that I have been conducting for a good fifteen minutes. I Unfortunately, did not get any contact information. I think I was to afraid, and somehow in limbo about being in contact with him, period. I am no longer acquainted with the girl over the summer, or Jake, Taylor's best friend. We are now off in our complete separate directions.

I hate the pain of desire to understand why I saw the discrete writings, only visible to myself. Not many things cause me to constantly contemplate over what, in reality, is so minuscule. There is still a coincidences that I might have been hallucinating when I was envisioning the words, that I was progressively obtaining knowledge about this particular person, just by looking at him. That alone, just might be the main cause for my constant frustrations over the past three months.

He obviously does cocaine, meth, some sort of prescription or over the counter drug. He could be violent and conniving. He might have the ability to persuade anyone into any decision in which he desires, with a fake front. I might be over exaggerating his personality. He can be a good person with a horrible past, and present that at the time, I was reading. Could it be that I have the power, let alone any opportunity to attempt to transform someones life, to continue living. Even so, he can reject my indirect offering, right from the start. It is his life to live, save or destroy. Why should I interfere. I shouldn't have to put forth myself as if I were a rescue tube, if he is not willing to float on his own.

Somehow, I think of him as a wonderful person.

Do I have a chance to help him save himself from being crushed by drugs? I grab a quilt lying next to the couch, that is quite horrifying looking to say the least. It is pink and purple, and smack dab in the middle there is a pony inside that looks as though it is drowning, in a Christmas themed snow globe. Kudos Grandma. I throw the over sized piece of material over my body. I wiggle myself into a satisfactory position, and force pressure from my hands, on the blanket, against my face. I sigh. Three god forsaken months I have been worrying about this kids health, and just over all personal well being. I have no idea how to describe the impression he made upon myself. I sit and think about about the way he acted towards me. He has an addiction, and I do not desire to have an addiction, to help his vanish.

I know that no one can conquer addiction, besides the addict. It is unfortunate. I've always been told that "No one can do everything alone". I release my hands from smothering my face, and uncover my head. I remember his forehead -of all places- state "Please save my broken soul". All these things, have been on my mind just about every minute of every day, a grand total of approximately 90 days. I stare at the ceiling, still frustrated, but more then ever, today.

I am completely delirious, at this point nothing is about to wake me up, once I am asleep. I have not done my homework. I have not even had the urge to start. I turn over to my side and continue to keep my eyelids stuck to every surface of my eye. My cat jumps on my stomach. I automatically flinch with pain, my cat is a eighteen pound monster. He jumps off once I gently shove him with my hands. "Fly away, my beautiful Butterfly" I say in a French accent. I see my phone light up, seconds later, I have just received a text message. It is probably one of my girl friends that has been continually complaining to me about this guy, that she is apparently in love with. She has been devastated for a good week. The big dilemma for her is the fact he has a girlfriend. I do not have a resolution for her. I can not wave around a branch off my orange tree, frolic over to her to lover boy, and transform his arm candy to suddenly become road kill. I do not even bother opening the text message.

My brother, being the sweet heart that he has always been, sees from the other room that I am attempting to get some rest, and was going to do me the "favor" of changing that all around. I go to grab my phone. Of course, he gets to it first. I allow the ugly quilt to yet again devourer myself. I lye there, not caring about any ridiculous prank he can pull. His stupid self is probably out of ideas. I attempt to fall back asleep. Seconds later, he slides open my phone. "Random number?" he says, grinning. I slowly sit up, my hair in a messy bun, and my eyes half open. Looking like a zombie, I glance at him as if I had no idea what he was saying. He opens the text without my consent. He coughs as if he was about to announce the Queens presence, but instead the words that come out of his mouth are




"Hello there, beautiful eyes"