Past Life

Inspired by a feeling I have towards a friend currently...

                                                   NEW YORK
                      1960s


  I know it was wrong. From the moment I saw him, though, something just sparked inside of me. There was this strange connection that I felt toward this man. My teacher. I was in college at the time, a freshman. He was my professor and I was studying the arts.
  I was only twenty-one and my teacher, thirty-two. 
  I didn't even speak to him through out the first couple of months of class. I was the quiet type who sat in the back. The teacher's pet from afar. I was getting good grades and was rarely called upon to answer a question but he never paid much attention to me. 
  Saying the discovery of this connection started right when I walked into his classroom isn't that accurate. In fact, it started at the end of the second month of class. I had to hand in an essay on Shakespeare (something I put off til the last minute) and when I rushed into the classroom it was empty. My class wasn't until the next day but we had to hand it in the day before. I was out of breath and sweating from all the running I did just to get my essay to him. Stopping in front of his desk, I slid the paper over to him and he eyed it for a moment before glancing up at me and that's when he really saw me. He didn't look at me like I was just another student, nor did I look at him like he was just another teacher. 
  There was something there. 
  Silence crept upon the both of us and as he went to put his hand over mine to take the paper I pulled my hand away. Finally catching my breath, we both looked away. He at the paper and me to the wall to the right then at my nails.
  I was nervously picking at them. 
  "Thank you, Clark," He spoke, his voice deep but angelic. And that's when we met eyes again. I gave him a smile and just stood there like an idiot for a minute before realizing I was even still there. I waved goodbye and headed out the door without another word.


                                   North Carolina
                   Present Day


  Here I was, taking yet again another handful of classes when I promised myself to take it slow this semester and leave some time to actual enjoy myself. It was the first day of the writing class and although I was very eager, I too was also very tired. I had to work a double the day before and barely got any sleep what with my other classes that took place earlier in the week and also juggling work. I'm only twenty. I should be having fun, living life.
  The door to the studio open and in walked a couple of ordinary looking people. The class was mostly full of more older looking adults. Some wanting to accomplish a life goal and other just joining for the heck of it. I joined the writing class to actually fulfill a dream. I've always wanted to be a writer, mostly for books but I thought I'd try my hand at writing a script for once.
  The door opened again and in stepped this man I have never seen before. 
  I assumed he was about thirty. He was tall with black hair that was trimmed and he wore a grey v-neck shirt and a pair of jeans. He looked just as tied as I did. 
  He sat next to me. 
  "Hello," I said as I turned my attention to the man. 
  "Hey," He greeted me with a goofy smile and put out his hand for me to shake. 
  "I'm Alex. And you are?" 
  "Anastasio," He replies and I'm taken-a-back by this. 
  "That's different," I tell him, my voice laced with interest. He only replies with a light laugh and something tells me that it wasn't the first time he's been told that.
 
  After class, I grab my note book and slide my mechanical pencil into the spiral of it and head over to Anastasio. I watch him as he collects his things and he notices me and give a hint of a smile. 
  "Can I help you?" He asks playfully. 
  "I was just wondering what other classes you take here," A lie, really. But now that I said it I did find myself being interested in finding out more about him. I can't help but to look at him him. He pulls on his red, plaid jacket and grabs his notebook and holds it loosely in his right hand. 
   "Voice over and Acting Technique," He finally answers. 
   I'm confused by this. By just why he told me this but then I remember that I did ask him what other classes he was taken. I just nod. 
  "I graduated from Acting Technique," I say with a big, prideful smile. 
  "Oh? And how'd you like it."
  "It was difficult," I reply. I deflate a bit at that. Deflate at the memories of me struggling but then I perk up a bit, "but I promise it's all worth it." I assure him. 
 
  We continue talking through out the week when we do see each other and eventually we end up adding each other on Facebook. The more we talk, the more he vents to me and the more I listen. I become his security blanket. The one person he could find sanity in. 
  The more we talk, the more I feel this strange connection growing but something inside of me tells me that this isn't the first time I felt this way ... Especially towards him. Which is odd, because I've only just met him. 

                                              
                                     New York
                     1960s


  The Stonewall Inn was a place I often went to to blow off some steam. I would lie if anyone had saw me there, knowing that it was usually frowned upon but I didn't live at home anymore. I was in New York. It was time to live my life and be who I really was and I knew this place was where I can truly be that person. 
  I went there the same night that I handed in my essay and after a few beers, I noticed a man enter and I followed him with my eyes until it hit me just who he was. 
  "Mr. Robertson," I slurred. 
  He looked up at me, his eyes going wide. 
  "Fancy meeting you here." 
  "And you," He said and I could detect a bit of fear in his voice. My whole body shifted as did my attitude. My drunkenness had suddenly left when I saw just how worried he was. "You don't have to worry," I assured him. "I'd just die if someone I knew saw me here. Don't worry, your secret is safe with me." 
  He only gave me a nod and I gave him one in reply before leaving him be. 

  The whole rest of the first semester I felt very protective over Mr.Robertson. I wanted to keep him safe and just be there for him if he needed, say, a shoulder to cry on or someone to vent to. I couldn't keep my eyes off him in class but from time to time he would catch me looking and just nod. Maybe to let me know that everything was alright.
  Whatever the reason, I was happy he was at least assuring me in some way.

                                     North Carolina
                    Present Day

 
  Weeks had passed and I could not shake this feeling no matter how hard I tried. And so I did the most honest thing I could think and sent him a message through Facebook. 
                                               
                                               'Hey there. Listen, I know this
                                                        may sound a bit odd but please
                                                        do not freak out. I have this
                                                        strange feeling, strange con-
                                                        nection towards you. Something
                                                        that I can't shake and trust me
                                                        I have tried. Whenever we talk
                                                       or even whenever I'm around
                                                       you I just want to protect you
                                                       and keep you safe. I want to be
                                                       there for you and I know this
                                                       all sounds pretty weird but 
                                                       it's the truth and I figured
                                                       it'd be best to just be honest.'

  His reply told me that he understood and although it did sound a bit odd to him that it didn't freak him out and that it actually was very sweet of me to say that and he thanked me for my honesty. 
  It wasn't odd the next time we saw each other and, in fact he often looked to me, nodding as if to assure me that he was okay. I just smiled wide and gave him a thumbs up.


                                     New York
                     1960s


  Who would have expected something like The Stonewall Riot to happen. It was pretty chaotic and of course Mr.Robertson and I were caught in the middle of it all. We weren't supposed to be there, something was telling me to not go but Mr.Robertson insisted.
  We have been secretly meeting ever now and then and he wanted to meet me for a drink somewhere where we could actually talk and be ourselves and I loved him for that but I insisted several times to not go and suddenly, chaos happened. 
  I had not seen him in over twenty minutes and I was able to get myself away from the crowd of police that were making themselves known. I stood off to the distance, my heart beating rapidly in my chest and my knees weak as I grew even more nervous. I almost couldn't breath as my wide eyes scanned the raging crowd and I hoped I would've seen Mr.Robertson giving me a nod to assure me that I was fine but instead I found him lying on the ground, being trampled but he wasn't defending himself ... His arms were just lying by his side and there was blood on his face and shirt. 
  Springing from my spot, I pushed helplessly through the ground, getting knocked to the ground but finding my way carefully back up and protecting myself as I made it to Mr.Robertson's body when I held him close. His head fell back and his eyes were shut. I could tell that he was breathing. Just lightly though and eventually his left hand weakly grabbed mine and gave it a light squeeze. 
  We met eyes when I was suddenly pulled away from him by someone. I didn't see this person but they were yelling at me to get somewhere safe.
  I never saw him again. 

                                              

                               North Carolina 
                  Present Day

  I knew that he worked at the hole in the wall bar located in Downtown Asheville. It came up in a conversation he had awhile ago and so I pulled out my fake ID and was able to get in. I sat at the bar, watching him as he tended to someone at the end of the bar and when he finally caught sight of me I could see he was a bit surprised. 
  "Aren't you a bit young?" He asked, raising a brow. 
  "Not according to this," I say and show him my ID. 
  I know, it was stupid to show a guy who's a bartender my fake ID but he only gave me a wink and placed his hands on the bar, leaning forward a bit. 
  "What can I get you?" He asked and I ordered just a beer and while I sat, drinking alone he would come back over to me and chat with me from time to time when he wasn't busy. He was probably more worried about me in that moment than I was of him. I was young looking for my age with blond hair and a tiny figure. The place where I lived was very gay friendly and, like I was, he too was worried about those who might try to spike my drink so he kept tabs on me through the night.

  Around 11, I was sat with some guy at a table who I had just met at the bar. We were talking and laughing and I was actually having a good time seeing as I am usually not the one to spontaneously talk to a stranger in any sort of location. Anastasio kept glancing over me and that's when I realized that he must've had the same connection that I did towards him.
  I didn't know how it was possible but I was happy that it was coming from both sides. 
  We stayed close all through class, though he eventually moved away to New York. He said it had been calling to him and I encouraged him to go. 
  Even though we were miles away, I still felt the connection and I knew he did too. 

Author's Note

I am not sure just how I feel about the ending.
Please let me know what you think, though. I would love to hear your opinion and I could always edit it! :)

Reviews

[Valkyrie Warrior]

This is a very good story, I really enjoyed it! well done!!

[Cameron Griffith]

Very well written, I loved how everything was connected in a way. The dialogue was really well written. The characters in the story also was well done, keep up the good writing.