He was always there, standing. Watching. But like a gust of wind, moments later his silhouette vanished from sight, gone within seconds. I didn’t know how he did it...how he managed to cause me these hallucination-like visions, but I wasn’t at all complaining. To be completely honest, envisioning him, this mysterious stranger, made me feel safer...like as long as I felt his intense gaze that no harm would come my way.

It all started back 2 years ago at one of the many “extravagant” high school parties that occurred every saturday night. I had just turned 16, and apparently that was the age where multiple things were thrown at you all at once, whether it was alcohol, drugs, or sex...or even a combination of all three. It was a parent’s worst nightmare, too bad I didn’t have any. Well, any that actually cared. 
I was eight when my father left me and my mother. Most people would think that that was the tragedy that took place in my life, but in fact it was the one gift I was given. Ever since I turned five and started enrolling in school, tension grew between both of my parents, of course it was financial problems. My father always in a way scared me...his presence intimidating and dominant, his eyes dark, his touch not in any way comforting. Things got only worse from that point on, my dad getting into drinking after just recovering from being an alcoholic in his teenage years, my mom still her needy unstable self which I never quite understood. If my mother wanted to be, she could be a bright intelligent young woman, it was her lack of confidence and self esteem that held her back. She couldn’t take care of herself.
That was when the beatings began. Every night, there was smashing of glass, yelling, pushing, crying, but it all ended the same way. My father gone, my mother broken on the floor, her knees drawn into her chest, while she wept. And it was me, at the age of five, taking care of her. This went on for three years. Three. No one was there for me, to ask how I felt...I was on my own. And it scared the hell out of me.
Walking into that high school party, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I had no experience in this kind of situation at all, never received any motherly advice, I had friends, but they all went to parties, so why shouldn’t I?
“Hey, Lissa! You made it!” I spotted my friend, Amanda, run across the lawn over to me. At first, I didn’t even recognize her. Her usual curly blonde hair had been straightened, her face covered with makeup, and she wore nothing but skimpy ripped up jean shorts that revealed a whole lot of leg, and a shirt that looked like she cut half off with a pair of scissors. She didn’t look 16, she could easily pass for 18. Was that what you were supposed to do? Make yourself look older?
“Hey, Amanda..” I muttered, suddenly feeling very out of place while I looked down at my jeans and converse.
“You look...good,” She commented, her eyes scanning my very average outfit. That slight hesitation was enough to indicate that I was right, I was way overdressed.
“Well, I guess I didn’t get the memo.” I laughed humorlessly, my arms falling to my side. 
“Here,” Amanda suddenly was removing my cardigan from my shoulders, tossing it into the lawn.
“Hey-” began to protest but was shushed before I could finish my sentence. She then rolled up my tank top that I had put on under my cardigan somehow so part of my stomach was visible and then pulled it down, revealing a little more cleavage that I was comfortable with.
“There, now just your hair,” Before I could dodge her reach, she got a hold of the ponytail I used to hold my hair back. Now that she had it pulled out, my boring coffee-colored wavy hair fell over my shoulders, now blowing in the warm breeze. “Good,” Amanda smiled proudly, studying me like a piece of artwork. “I have a little makeup I brought along in my purse that I left inside, I’ll let you borrow something and you should be good. Come on, it’s time to party.” With a tight grip on my wrist, she pulled me behind her in the direction of the house where the party took place. There was no turning back now.
Smoke, sweat, and alcohol. Those were the only three things I could smell while being in the crowded building. There were so many people, to the point where I was lucky if I recognized one of them. I’m sure a good handful of the kids that were there didn’t even go to the school, but that didn’t stop them from coming.
It was loud, too. The music was so intense it caused the entire house to vibrate, along with the jumping and dancing of the bodies that surrounded me. I lost sight of Amanda, which meant I was on my own, trying to push my way though the people to get to a somewhat empty space. I felt sick; the one cup of alcohol Amanda had encouraged me to drink unsettling in my stomach. The flashing lights and pounding music didn’t exactly help either.
I had finally made it to the end of the crowd of bodies, and hurried down a hallway that hopefully led to a bathroom. Turning a corner, I was suddenly thrown off of my feet, fumbling back but before I could hit the ground, a hand swept just in time to catch me and set me back on my feet.
“Whoa, my bad.” The voice spoke, my eyes meeting with the person I had crashed into.
I will never forget his face, it was somehow always haunting my in the back of my mind...his piercing blue eyes and sandy blonde hair. Undoubtedly, he was good looking, in fact I recognized him from a picture that Amanda had shown me off of her phone, claiming she was in love with him even though he didn’t even know she existed.
Usually, I would be absolutely swooned if anyone like him took the time to say a single word to me, nonetheless apologize for me running into him. But it was something about the way he looked at me that kept me on edge...something about the way his eyes raked me from head to toe, stopping a second or two longer in particular areas that made me blush in embarrassment. But for some reason, that didn’t get me to turn and walk away. Because I stayed.
“Oh, it’s no problem really. Don’t worry about it,” I blurted out unthinkably, immediately regretting my choice of words.
My giddiness seemed to entertain him though, amusement filling his cold blue eyes as they consumed me. “To make it even, let me get you a drink.” He offered, taking a step closer.
“No, no, I’m good. Really, it’s okay-”
“Come on, just one. It won’t hurt...” He insisted, and I could tell by the look on his face that he wasn’t going to stop until he got what he wanted. So I let him get me a drink...a drink that never seemed to be finished, somehow no matter how much of it I drank, it kept refilling and refilling to the point where I could barely stand. The room was spinning, one second I was with the guy...I didn’t even know his name, in a room full of crowded people and then what seemed to be a split second later in a room. Alone.
“Stop,” I slurred, using the best of my ability to push him away.
“Shh, it’s gonna be okay, I promise.” He murmured, his breath reeking of smoke and alcohol.
“No,” I was able to say, this time louder. His arms began to grow tighter around my body, his movements more forceful.
“It won’t hurt I promise-”
“Let go of me!” I was finally coming to my senses; kicking and screaming as best I could. I haven’t felt this type of fear since watching my father abuse my mom. It was something I wished I never would witness again...but now it was. This time to me.
“Help!” I yelped, just before he slammed me into the wall, forcing my arms above my head.
“You better keep your mouth shut, you hear me?”
Tears were falling from my eyes now, the warm drops trickling down my cheeks as my vision blurred.
Just when I was about to give up...to stop fighting and and accept the fact that there was no way out, the pressure of his towering body was lifted, and he was thrown to the ground.
Relief flooded me now that I had been released from his abusive touch, to only find him  laying on his back on the floor, another silhouette hovering above him. It was hard to watch, but seeing the new figure repeatedly pound the guy who had nearly assaulted me in the face, was almost calming...because I knew I was safe.
After the guy stopped struggling under the new person and finally stilled, he slowly began to rise. His back was to me, but there it was obvious he was a male...his shoulderblades very prominent through his plain black t-shirt. Dark jeans covered his long muscular legs followed by black shoes. His hands were still in tight fists at his side, the blood of my assaulter smeared on the knuckles of his right hand. He had a head full of dark hair, I couldn’t make out it’s true color whether it was black or shade of brown in the dark lighting of the room.
I wanted so desperately to see his face, hoping he would turn I waited in silence. Should I say something? Thank him? He did just save me...it would be the right thing to do. But for some reason, I couldn’t find the voice to do so. My words were trapped within me, unable to come out.
Suddenly, he finally moved. Not towards me, but towards the door. “Wait!” I croaked, my voice unfamiliar in my own ears.
The figure stilled once again, and this time he slightly turned his head over his shoulder. The distance was too far between us and the room was too dark for me to make out any of his features, but I did catch sight of one thing. It was his eyes. The vibrant green that seemed to glow in this dim lighting, that swirled with so many secrets and stories to go along with the many questions I wanted to ask him. Those were the eyes I would forever remember, the eyes I would never forget.
But my sudden dazing was too long, and a second later he was gone. And once again, I was alone. That was the last thing I remembered before everything went black.

I am nearly 19 now. I moved out of my mother’s home, but still lived nearby in the city of Seattle. I was in college, hopefully getting a degree in the English department which had always been my dream. I have completely transformed my old nightmare of a life into a new successful one. Well, that was my goal at least.
Going into college I was destined to start on a clean slate. Since the age of five, I knew I was on my own. I knew that from that point on I needed to take care of myself and my mother, and that I was going to be bombarded with obstacles I would be forced to overcome. But I still want my happy ending. Years from now, I want to start a family and be able to provide them with the best childhood that they will deserve. Nothing like mine. I refuse for history to be repeated...not in my new life.
“Lissa, may I have a word with you?” My professor, Mr. Charleston spoke just before I could walk out of the door.
“Yeah, of course.” I nodded, following him towards his desk. I watched him as he leaned back in his old reclining chair, removing his reading glasses, and carefully placing them in his shirt pocket.
“Tell me about yourself, Lissa.” He finally requested, his old intelligent eyes studying me carefully.
I was taken off guard by his words, wondering why on earth he would want to know more about me than he already does. But I responded simply back anyway. “Well, I am 19 born and raised in Seattle-”
“No, no, no,” He cut me off, wavering a hand in disapproval, “I don’t want to hear the boring stuff. I want to hear about the deep stuff, Lissa. The stuff that has emotion and excitement.” When I didn’t respond he continued, “Listen, Lissa...you’re writing is fantastic. It truly is, and there is no doubt that you have a talent in it. But in a way, it is kind of flat...it’s almost like you are holding back. Like you afraid and are blocking out certain emotions or memories that could make your writing go from fantastic, to magnificent. Do you understand what I am getting at?”
Of course I understood what he was getting at. The person who didn’t understand was him...and that was okay. I would never want anyone to be put in the position I was years ago, that’s why I never addressed it. And maybe it is because I am afraid...afraid to get stuck in my past and have to relive it all over again.
I finally answered. “My life isn’t all that interesting, sir.”
He chuckled huskily, and then leaned slightly closer over his desk. “Well I’m sure there is much more to it, than you are putting out there. Dig deep, Lissa. It will come eventually.”

It was dark walking home that night, it was late November, therefore meaning that winter would soon be upon us. I nuzzled my chin deeper into my scarf, shoving my gloved hands further into my coat pockets picking up my pace slightly.
I was just a block away from my apartment that I had just recently bought with the money I have saved from working as an apprentice part time at a publishing company that I was interested in working in once I graduated from college.
The roads were fairly deserted tonight, everyone probably at home keeping warm on this cold day, so I wasn’t paying all that attention. Knowing me, I probably should have. I was a magnet for danger, or at least that’s what my mother used to say.
Having my earbuds in, I was completely consumed by my thoughts and not my surroundings that I didn’t realize that I was about to walk in the middle of the street without even checking for cars. And sure enough, the screech of the tires and the loudness of the horn was what made me spin in the direction of the oncoming car in panic.
It all happened so fast. One second I was in the blinding lights of the headlights, and the next I was tugged by some opposing force and yanked out of the street, and into someone’s embrace.
All that I could hear was racing of my heart and the heaviness of our breathing. A set of strong arms were still secured around me, my face still buried in the stranger’s coat.
“You alright?” A voice spoke just then, deep and bold. It took me a moment to process everything and collect my thoughts, but once I did, I scrambled out of the stranger’s embrace, and staggered backwards.
I was far enough away now, that I could see the person entirely. He was tall, which was the first thing I noticed. In fact, if he hadn’t just saved my life I probably would have kept my distance from him. He was wearing a pair of jeans with a black coat, his hands now hidden in his pockets. My eyes then traveled up to examine his face. The dim lighting of the flickering lamp post allowed me to make out most of his features. He had a sharp jaw, and a chiseled chin. His hair was slightly longer, a dark brown, but was pushed off of his forehead.
It wasn’t his beautiful face that I couldn’t get over. But they were his eyes.  I knew those eyes...those compelling green irises, that were burning through me with such intensity, that I could feel my body fill with heat.
“You look like you’re going to faint...” He commented once again, this time his voice bringing me back out of my daze.
I shook my head, blinking a few times to clear my head. “Uhhh, yeah I’m kind of dizzy, that’s all.” I didn’t sound very convincing, and I could tell he wasn’t buying it. “Do I know you?” I suddenly blurted out unintentionally.
There was something about the way his body stiffened, and his loss of composure wavered, even though it was only for a fracture of a second. “Sorry, I’ve never seen you before in my life.” He replied, but his tone was short now, no longer holding any concern.
I took a step closer, my eyes now searching for any other signs that there was something he wasn’t telling me. “Are you sure?”
“Positive,” He chuckled, “where do you live?”
“Down another block,” I immediately responded, shocked that I actually told him. He was a stranger...I didn’t know him, well at least that what he claims anyway. For some strange reason though, I felt like it was okay to tell him that. Like I could trust him, even if I had just met him moments prior to this.
“I’ll walk you then.” Without waiting for a reply from me, he began walking in the direction of my apartment. The thing was, I didn’t even tell him which way my apartment was, but he seemed to already know, considering he was headed directly towards it.
That’s when I knew.

Ever since that night, Travis which I later learned his name to be, would always find me. Whether I was walking to my first class of the morning, or at the grocery store, he would be there.
Most people would think that it was annoying...stalkerish even, but I didn’t. Maybe it was because of the fact that I have never received this much attention from anyone, ever. The thing about Travis, was that he actually listened to me, and I knew that I could trust him, I felt that from him the first night we met. And I loved it.
But there was something that he was hiding, he was too perfect to be real. I haven’t brought anything up to him since that first night, but tonight was the night that I would. I needed to know, I couldn’t bare to stand one more night without finding out the truth.
The doorbell to my apartment rang, later that evening. Knowing it would be Travis, I shouted over my shoulder for him to come in while I finish preparing the chinese food I had ordered for the both of us.
“Smells good,” He grinned, his elbows resting on the counter while he leaned slightly closer to me that was on the other side.
I had been distracted all day, my mind coming up with various ways of how to bring it up, and what would happen if I did, and so on. So in response, I gave him a half smile, then quickly looked away not wanting to maintain eye contact. 
He knew that something was up, I could tell by the way his smile slowly disappeared from his face and his eyebrows came lower over his eyes the way they do whenever he’s thinking. I pretended not to notice.

“Are you going to tell me?” Travis finally demanded, after finishing eating, his voice sharper making me wince.
Well, here goes nothing.
I slowly set my half-empty container of noodles onto the small coffee table near where we were sitting on the couch. “Travis...I need you to be honest with me, can you do that?” I muttered softly, so quiet that at first I didn’t think he heard.
“I’m always honest with you.”
I glanced up through my eyelashes at him now, studying his face. His eyes were dark, in fact the darkest I’ve ever seen them. His lips were in a straight line, eyebrows furrowed. I noticed the way he continued to clench and unclench his jaw, something he only did when he was incredibly mad...and I haven’t even said it yet.
“Travis, when was the first time we met?” I questioned, swallowing hard.
His breathing increased. He clenched his jaw again, while his eyes stayed locked with mine. “The night where I saved you,” was all he said.
“And when was that?”
Silence.
He was quiet for a long time then, and this time he was the one to look away.
“I know it wasn’t the night where you pulled me out of the street,” I whispered.
“You’re right, Lissa.” His eyes were on me now, “The first time I met you was three years ago at that party. I was watching you from the moment you stepped through those doors. There was something about you, that I just couldn’t understand...I was drawn to you, like a magnet. Maybe it was your innocence, or the way you were so independent and strong, but I could tell by the look in your eyes that you’ve been through a lot. That’s when I saw him handing you drink after drink, and just as I was about to get you out of there, I lost sight of you. I looked everywhere, and then finally walked in on him...touching you like that. It made me sick to my stomach, and I just couldn’t bare to watch it. It also in a way, made me furious. I couldn’t contain my anger and that explains why I did what I did to him...”
I was quiet, but in my mind I was screaming, my head was spinning as everything I have been blocking out the past three years came rushing to the surface.
But now, everything made sense. I should have recognized those green eyes instantly, now that I allowed the memory back in my mind, I could visualize the scene almost perfectly.
“Lissa, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner...I wanted to, but I didn’t want you to have to bring back a memory like that in your life. I wanted us to start over, I didn’t want to be stuck following you everywhere making sure nothing or no one hurt you, I actually wanted to be apart of your life. So please,” His eyes voice was softer now, his eyes pleading while he took my small hands into his large ones, “let me in.”
I did. I told him my story, not the sugar-coated one I told everyone else. I told him about my mother and father, and the nights I spent crying in my room until there were no tears left. And it felt good...it felt good for someone who actually wanted to know, someone who actually cared enough to listen.
That’s when I realized that in order to start over, I had to revisit my past and meet someone who was patient to understand and  to help me through it all. I couldn’t do it on my own, and even though that’s what I’ve fooled myself thinking all these years, I was wrong.
Meeting Travis opened my eyes and made me see the world the way it is, not the way I’ve blinded myself into seeing. Even with all of the horrible and awful things I have encountered throughout my life, I can still easily say how lucky I am to live the life I do. Because not everyone has that one person that is willing to take the time to learn about, like I have with Travis. And because of that, I am lucky.