All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
The Stranger
The couch is still warm from his body that laid upon it. But his presence has disappeared as the sun peaks above the tall skyscrapers. There’s an indent on the black pillow from his head, and the blanket, draped on the couch, is positioned like he is still beneath it. But as I touch it, to perhaps feel as if I’m with him once again, I feel abandoned and alone.
He left a note on the door and the ink is smudged. It says: thank you for giving me a home for the night. But no name is left for me to find him.
I wonder why I didn’t get out of bed once I heard the front door shut. Or why I didn’t tell him to stay for a while. I wonder where he went. If back to the ally beside to eccentric clothing store I just happened to stop in.
I don’t know why I feel this way. Something comforting and familiar about him made me feel safe. He made me feel happy and weightless; I want him to come back. But now that he’s gone, I feel as if my heart was ripped from my chest and the tears are about to spill from the lids holding them back.
I feel as if I loved him. Something about him lures me in and makes me want to run away with him, who seems like the love of my life.
Maybe that’s why I took him in…
I lay on the couch where he did. I wrapped the blanket around me and felt the first of many tears slide down my face.
A knock at the door made me sit up and hold back the tears that wanted so badly to fall. I opened it to the 20 year old boy that just slept in the couch in my living room.
“I forgot my hat.” I stepped aside and let him take the hat off the chair. I took a look at him, from the blue eyes that sharpen his face to the hand carved heart between his thumb and first finger. One that looks exactly like the one Jack Marshall put on my hand when we were twelve.
He moved but said to me right before he did, he’d find me again someday.
I looked up at his face from his hand. “Jack?” he looked over and I walked to him just as he was opening the door to leave forever. “Where are you going?”
“I’m not sure,” he said.
I pulled up my sleeve on my shirt and showed him the heart. “It’s me Jack, you found me”
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 8 comments.
48 articles 0 photos 1752 comments
Favorite Quote:
Grab life by the balls. -Slobberknocker<br /> We cannot change the cards we're dealt just how we play the hand<br /> Experience is what you get when you didn't get what you wanted<br /> It's pretty easy to be smart when you're parroting smart people<br /> -Randy Pausch