Love Song Written in Blood

##1

Driven by a curiosity of myself, my heart fluttered. . .

I don't know what my goal is in life, but I go to work every weekday to pay my bills just in case I find a purpose other than temporary adrenaline rushes. At 20 years old, I've completed high school but have yet to go to college. I was always unsure of what I wanted to dedicate myself to education-wise and job-wise.

However, I found myself on the campus of the top university in my state. I was wandering with half of an aim in mind, searching for my next high while wearing a brown-stained bonnet and gloves and an old, faded sundress I was planning on getting rid of. The sun had started to set behind me and only one other person, who seemed as confused as I was, deciding whether or not he had a resolve in mind. He was around the same height as me, at 176 centimeters. He was alone and distracted, his eyes locked on the notebook paper in his hands, straining to read with the day's fading light. With no other people around, I made my way toward him.

Although my footsteps were silent, a pebble became my enemy as it scraped across the brick ground. The man looked up, but his expression hardly changed. I kept my pace, although now I didn't have the advantage of a sneak attack.

"Oh, hey!" the man yelled. "Can you read this for me?" My heart skipped a beat. "Just tell me what you think of it." 

I stopped and felt the box cutter in my dress pocket fall against my thigh. Considering my boredom, and current lack of strength to kill, I walked up to him and took the sheet he was holding out to me. 

The paper contained either a poem or song, handwritten in pencil. 

I'm very tired, I was always

My hands are empty and dry

But look at them, gorgeous, what are they telling you?

Looking at them, I don't know why

I'm tired of searching, I want to be someone forever

And the stars don't give enough light

You showed me my whole and disturbed heart

Can we forgive the night?

Rays hit my face painting a lie

I have to leave before the sun sets.

So no one sees myself

The stars don't give enough light

You showed me my whole and disturbed heart

Can you forgive me tonight?

I'm tired of looking for fullness

See through the monster and to the artist

A drop of water hit the paper as I finished reading, and another drop hit my hand. I held my arm above my head to brace for more rain, but not a single cloud could be found in the sky.

". . . You okay?"

Reacting in defense, my hand crawled along the fabric covering my thigh, pursuing a weapon. In that moment I was caught off guard by the warmth of a body and a touch on my arm. 

"Hey, are you okay?" the man asked.

For the first time during our interaction, I fully turned my body toward the man, knocking his hand away. My face was unexpectedly lit by the horizon's glare. He pointed at me.

"Um. . . you have. . ." he murmured as he gestured toward his own face, ". . .snot."

I panicked and wiped my nose with my sleeveless arm, suddenly self-conscious. The man stood silent, wearing an awkward expression. He attempted to keep up the conversation.