Short Stories

Stranger

Little does she know, he is watching her from afar, studying her as if she was a painting hanging on the wall. There for everyone to observe and pick apart. Picking up on the little things, like how she runs her fingers through her hair every few minutes, how she nervously taps her fingers against the bench on which she sits. Picking up on how she observes every stranger who passes by with such concentration, that he is shocked she hasn't noticed the stranger sitting on the bench behind her watching her every move. How could she be such an observant person, not realize she herself was being watched. It was astonishing, and he just couldn't understand why she could be so oblivious to the burning sensation that occurs when a person is being stared at. He sees the way her face lights up when she notices a happy couple, or a family having a day out together. But behind the happiness in her eyes, he can see the longing, the want, and the need she has while studying these strangers in the park. He sees the pain in her eyes when they disappear and she can no longer watch them laugh together or when she sees a couple that seem to be arguing. Curiosity sparks, and he wonders why such a beautiful girl is alone, sitting here studying people, watching them with such intensity. He wonders why she holds such sadness in her eyes, and within these questions floating around his mind he begins to wonder what her story is.

Taking a step back, he studies the world around her. Taking in the fresh morning air, and the children running around the park taking in the sunlight of a midsummer's day. Looking at the trees and the bushes that surround the park, and the benches and little play sets for the children, he cherishes the natural beauty of a place so pure. Knowing that the park is his safe place, he can't help but notice how his feet have begun to bring him closer to the girl. Before he even registers what he has done, he was sat next to the troubled girl; he stays silent, studying her a little bit more. Taking in account the scared look in her eyes, and how she slightly scooted away when he sat down, he ponders why she would react in such a way. Staying silent, he continued to observe her. He picked up on the slight shaking of her right knee, and how she took her lip between her teeth unmindful of her actions. Nervous, scared actions and they continued to fuel his curiosity about this beautiful stranger. He could tell she was uncomfortable, but for a reason he did not know. After all he was just sitting, beside her, nothing more than a simple everyday action.

"Isn't it marvelous?" The stranger noticed how she was studying the statue by the gates, the gates in which were the only way in or out of the lovely park in which they were sitting. Watching, to gauge her reaction, he leaned back to rest against the bench. Slowly, the girl who sparked his curiosity, started to smile. Although, as quick as it came, was as quick as it was gone. Without saying a word, she just nodded her head slowly and looked down at her hands, which were placed in her lap. The hands that were so tightly clasped together, that her knuckles were turning white. He could sense the fear coming off of her, as if it was a shock to his body. Something was upsetting this stranger, and he just wanted to know what it was. Maybe that was too much to ask from him, to know a strangers life story. But there was just something about her, which entranced him.

"What's wrong, beautiful?" Suddenly, hope flashed before her eyes before it was quickly replaced by fear. Thinking to himself, he wondered what could possibly be happening in her life to make her so alienated from the world, to make her so scared to talk to a friendly newcomer. What could possibly alienate her from the world she seems to enjoy studying, and from the happiness she seems to enjoy to see. What could be keeping her back from the things that she obviously wants for herself? What is her story? While being lost in thought, trying to analyze the beautiful forlorn girl, he failed to notice the encounter between her and a young man right beside him.

Looking up, he noticed something he didn't see before, something that was hidden under the shirt she was wearing, that had now risen up. After taking notice to the large bruise covering her stomach, something seemed to click. After watching the fear turn to horror in her eyes, and after watching the young girl get snatched up by, some one who seems to be her boyfriend, he put together her story. After watching the man, the man who she seemed to fear the most, grab her arm with such force, he stood.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" He boomed, not thinking about the idea of a crowd forming, but only thinking he has to protect the girl who he has became so interested in within the last hour. Grabbing the unknown man by his shoulder, he spun the man around, and ripped him from the grip that he had on the girl. Unaware of the consequences that could happen due to his outburst, due to his intervention of a personal conversation meant to stay between the girl and this horrid male, he frantically looked around for the girl. After seeing she was pulled into the crowd, that had indeed formed, he felt a sense of relief.

Distracted, he was unaware of the fist that was about to collide with his face. Although the collision never occurred, leaving him confused. Only to see the girl who was much smaller than him, standing in front of him holding the man's hand. She had saved him. Watching her whisper words to the guy standing in front of her, he became weary. Oddly enough, the man lowered his fist, grabbed the girl by her waist and they began to walk away.

Yelling to her, "Where are you going? You can't go with him," he saw her look back and whisper the words, "I love him."

Unable to understand, why would she love someone who has hurt her, he now understood her story and understood the pain behind her eyes.

Love is a cold callous concept that is over fantasized, and abused. Love is not always happy, love is not always safe. Love is dangerous and love is unpredictable.