let's rock n' roll

childhood memories

_your pov_

The days of my youth, if I recall correctly, were spent sitting in my living room watching cable. When I wasn't staring at the endless screen of colored pixels, I was socializing with my parents, my siblings, and my peers at school. Life at that age was relatively easy; sparse responsibilities, home cooked meals, and a welcoming house to call my own. Not to mention, our several adorable pets.

The only issue seemed to be that I was still lonely. Terribly lonely. TV static in the middle of the night, tears cascading down my cheeks, the darkness of my room overtaking me; suffocating me with its invisible clutches. Daily sensations of this crippling lonesomenesses hit me like a truck at completely random moments, making me wonder if something was truly wrong with me, or if I was just making it all up.

One summer's night, I crept out of my bed and over to the window, watching the unusual storm rolling overhead. I had always loved storms and all of their additional features, whether it be lightning, thunder, or just rain. As I observed the sky with fascination, I pushed the window open just a bit, sticking my hand out in order to feel the wind. The sensations coming from the gap calmed my troubled mind, allowing only a few more tears to escape before they ceased.

My eyes fell closed as I imagined myself standing peacefully beneath the storm; the glass sliding open further in order to satisfy my imagination. I only thought to snap back to reality when a voice from a different plane of existence began to whistle softly. It almost seemed to call to me, beckoning me away from my perch in the window. The voice of an unknown guest, silky smooth and gentle as could be, was wafting through my room as my eyes scanned for the source.

The song he was whispering was unfamiliar yet strangely moving, drawing me further towards my bed on the other end of the room. Still, I saw nothing. The voice wafted endlessly through my mind, putting me in a trance-like state until it, very clearly, blew a breath against my neck. Twisting around quick enough to throw myself off balance, I finally saw the source of the melodious voice, being that of a young man with a rose in his hand.

He was staring at me intently, beginning to whistle the tune again as he lazily leaned the rose towards me. Bending at the waist, he wore all leather, paired with some black boots and fingerless leather gloves. Hair slicked back and cigarette tucked behind his ear, he tilted his head towards the flower once again as a signal to take it. Reaching out with minor hesitance, I nervously plucked the delicate stem from his hand without breaking my stare.

The man flashed a devilish smile at my actions, rising back to stand at his full height as he lit his cigarette and continued to stare at me. I glanced at the rose in my hand, directing my eyes back to the expected figure only to be met with the wall instead. I whipped my head around, questioning my sanity, until I heard the creak of the bed beside me. The stranger had miraculously appeared on my mattress, lying on his stomach as he kicked his legs like a little kid.

I didn't know whether to be scared or intrigued, observing him just as he did to me. I was prepared to say something, anything, to try and understand what was going on; and yet, he somehow knew. Putting a finger to his lips to signal my silence, the man smiled again as he hopped off of the bed and waltzed towards me. He had begun to hum that song from just a few minutes prior, one that I swore I wouldn't forget, as he circled me like prey.

Taking one more look at the rose clutched in my small hands, he swept me off of my feet; using one arm to hold my shoulder and the other to hold my hip. Despite my fear, I couldn't help but feel that maybe this charming stranger had no intention of hurting me. Not that he was exactly being friendly. After only a few steps, I realized that I had just been sat on my bed by the apparition-like visitor. With one more puff of cigarette smoke, he leaned in and spoke clear as day.

"Until next time, dolly."

From the moment I had woken up with the rose still in my hand, my sweet, childlike mind considered him a friend. A companion when times got tough. I never saw him again after that night however, only hearing the melodies he would sing from time to time. As the memory died out, I chalked it up to a crazy dream caused by my desire for companionship. And eventually, around when I turned 12, there were no more signs of him at all.

As I continued to age, the presence of something unusual had suddenly made its way into my life. Occasionally, I would catch bits of humming or whistling, seemingly emanating from the back of my mind rather than solid reality. The sweet smell of hairspray or fresh leather would sometimes gain my attention, only to disappear in an instant. I tried almost desperately at times to identify where these sensations were coming from, feeling out of my mind for believing that they were really there at all.

In order to distract myself from these occurrences, I joined a band with five of my closest friends. We were a real unique bunch to say the least, but we got along just fine and our band even sounded pretty good, all things considered. After some other students in our high school discovered our pastime, we began to take hire from them. This fact lead me to where I am now. In a crowded car, blasting music, on the way across the state with my companions.

This summer is going to be great.