Jack Dawkins One Shots

Someone Who Loves You

I past the trees in the setting sun, trying desperately to salvage everything that had happened today. But I froze up as I heard a footstep, that wasn't mine. I stopped and listened closely. I could hear them coming up behind me, I could feel their presence, so I rested my hand on the handle of my knife.

I turned sharply and saw them, a figure in black darkness behind them as the sun set behind me, A hood covered them utterly.

"You're following me?"

"I am." The voice, muffled by the hood and cloak left me unsure if I knew the voice.

"Why?"

"I must speak with you, as privately as possible."

"Come to the hospital?" I suggested

"No. Walls have ears. I trust only the trees." For a moment that phrase reminded me, but of what that was too far gone to recall.

"What do you want?"

"To speak with you."

"Who are you."

"What does it matter?"

"I won't speak with you until you tell me who you are."

"Walls have-"

"Who are you?"

Silence between us for a moment, they took the hood of their cloak pulling it down to reveal a face beautiful with long hair, and a scar across her cheek. She settled the hood at her shoulders and smiled.

"Someone who loves you,"

I racked my mind but, I didn't remember her, but she knew me "Who are you, give me your name."

Those words from my lips utterly broke her heart, you could see it shatter in her face, her hands began to quiver, and a tear in her eye.

"Y-you don't remember me?"

"Should I?"

Those two little words utterly shattered her and she looked as if she was about to faint, or that her knees would give out.

"I had prayed, you would always remember me." She said, "Time has been kind to you, much more so than it has to me."

"I've met a lot of people in my life. Excuse me, if I don't remember one woman." I said,

"Would think you'd remember, such a turbulent time." She smiled,

"Perhaps you remember the way that horrid old strew used linger its smell down the alley, Perhaps you remember the sleepless nights under that broken roof, Perhaps you remember the old secret alleys and bridges, not a soul else knew, Perhaps you remember that more then you'd remember me."

"I'm sorry, but I need to get back," I told her turning to leave but I took more than two steps before she whistled, a little tune. That dove into the memories I had tried so desperately to forget.

That tune, I'd hear echoed on the streets of London through the thickest of fogs, in the nights and over the bridges I used to roam.

I turned back to see her again but still, I couldn't recall her face.

"... I see you remember that dodger."

My heart skipped hearing that word. That name. She knew me. And she could destroy me. And everything I've made for myself.

"Tell me. Who you are."

"Perhaps you remember, running down Martin Street pocket watch in hand as the cops chased you, you'd always find me at the corner. Drop your spoils in my basket so you were clean they they caught you down Pentavile. Perhaps you remember, carrying me up the top of London bridge to see the fireworks on New Year, Perhaps you remember sharing blankets watching the rain fall," She explained and with every word it became clearer and clearer, that my time on London's streets and everyone I knew widdled away and I knew she could only be one girl in the world. "Perhaps you remember how you kissed me, under the old cotton bridge hiding from the cops," She giggled