Strangers and Chocolate Bars.

Sometimes a stranger's words are all it takes to save your life.

It’s 3:30 in the afternoon. His clothes are still on the floor. My hair is still a mess. The weather guy predicts scattered thunderstorms, but every day is a storm because of him. The sky is a dark, mesmerizing gray, and we all know that it will be falling soon. So where is he?

My bare feet sink into the dingy beige carpet, and I think about the time he promised me he would replace it. He saved up for months, but when the rest of the drugs were gone he couldn’t resist. I spot the exact jar he kept his change in. Now it’s empty. Just like every other promise he had ever made me.

I need to make another trip to the store. His credit card rests on the counter, and I grab it in between my fingers. If he’s gone, he won’t have to know. If I stole it, would he even notice before the drugs ran out? Before he couldn’t manage another hit, and he hadn’t the nerve to quit? Deep down, I already know the answer.

I walk to the store barefoot. No one notices. It’s cold outside, but I refuse to wear a jacket. I’m still shaking from last night, when he took me in his arms and forced me to love him. If mum were still here, she’d have been the victim. In a way, I think she’s better off dead.

When I get on the public bus, the driver makes a comment about how cold I must be. I don’t care what he says. They all stare at me as I head to the back. I don’t care about their stares. I open the window just to annoy them.

On the way to the drugstore we pass a police station. I could ask the bus driver to stop. I could turn him in. I’d have proof, because of last night. Or, I could take this bus all the way to Washington. Maybe he wouldn’t find me, and he would never take me to bed, ever again.

There is a long line in the drugstore. I don’t feel like waiting. I head to the bathroom, where I pee on the stick. I’ve seen them do this in movies, so I know exactly how it works. I’m proud of myself, because I don’t even have to read the directions.

After a few minutes, the pink plus sign is visible. The same thing happened last week. But I know I can’t be pregnant. No one has their own father’s child. No one has a child at thirteen years old. I walk out without paying. No one has to know.

I sit down on a park bench. I get more dirty looks. Parents tell their children to stay away. A teenager calls me a s**t; tears form in my eyes as she says it. This is why no one can ever know about what I’ve allowed him to do.

An older boy approaches me. He looks about seventeen. I expect him to laugh at me. But he only smiles. He sits down beside me with a chocolate bar. I wish I had enough money to buy a chocolate bar. HE hasn’t fed me in days.

“Well, hello there.” The boy says to me. He opens up his chocolate bar. When the wind blows towards us, the smell is mouthwatering. I am silent. I cannot speak to strangers. I cannot speak to anyone. But I really want that chocolate bar.

He says nothing now, but he does not take a bite. He simply watches the people around him, and curiosity fills his face when he looks at me. I wonder if he, like so many others, wants to hurt me. I am about to get up and run, when he moves the hand carrying the chocolate bar towards his mouth.

“NO!” I shout, grabbing the chocolate from him. I take a bite, and the taste of Heaven fills my mouth. The boy laughs, and I wonder what he thinks is funny. Does he know things about me? Did he see me take the pregnancy test?

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” The boy says. I am still silent. But slowly, then, I shake my head. I do not know why. But no one has talked to me but HIM in weeks. But then, he only talks when he wants sex. Is that why this boy is talking?

I have the chocolate. So why am I still sitting here? I am drawn to this boy. He seems different than the ones on the bus, and the ones with dirty looks. I decide, slowly, that I will talk to him. But I will reveal nothing.

“It’s supposed to storm,” I say softly. He nods. We start to talk about other things. I find out he hates thunderstorms. But he loves to look at the stars at night. He’s never seen a rainbow like I have. His name is Blake. He shows me his iPod. He likes classic rock. He’s actually eighteen, and a senior. One day, he wants to be a social worker. He has a girlfriend named Trish, and he lives with his uncle.

            By the time we are done talking, the park is less busy. The streetlights are on, and night in the city has started. There is a prostitute standing by the drugstore I had been in when I found out I was pregnant with my father’s baby. I have finished my chocolate bar. I am holding a piece of paper in my hands. It is Blake’s phone number. He told me that I could call him anytime. He is a stranger, but it feels like we’re close.

            I stand at the bus station. I am afraid it will be the same bus driver. Now my feet are getting cold. I start to think about HIM. I think about my mum, and wish she were still here. We could run away, we could leave forever. Why did she have to leave me?

            Tears form in my eyes. I don’t want to go back home. I take off my sweatshirt, and wear only my stained tank top. My stomach tells me it is still hungry. I don’t know where to go from here.

            The bus pulls up. It is not the same driver. I stand on the steps, leading to the aisle. I examine the driver. He smiles at me. He seems nicer than the other driver. I think of Blake, and I run over the piece of paper he gave me with my pinkie. I have already memorized his number. Then, I suddenly know what to do. I know, just like that. I feel that one stranger has changed everything for me.

            I give the driver a smile. I try to act brave. I hope I’m a good actress. “Mr.” I say, my heart beating faster. I hope he can’t see the fear I’m hiding, that’s flowing through every vein in my body. “I need to go to the police station.”

Author's Note

This is kind of the first short story I've written, so it's probably not the best. Don't be too harsh! Ignore grammar and stuff too, cause I didn't take too much time to check for mistakes.

Reviews

[WriterMe]

Wow I'm speechless. This was magnificent. I really liked it. The pain, the hurt, the twist of events towards the end. This was very good. And your 14? That is just brilliant. I never expected such a simple, short story to be filled with so much. Excellent work. =]

[Coyote Poetry]

In so few words you wrote a complete story. Such sadness and pain in the young girl life. Your description of the bus ride and the drug store was very good. Ending was very good. We need to look beyond the outside of people. To see what is really happening in someone mind. A outstanding story.
Coyote