Lennon

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen – Just a Little Unwell

 

“Hey Jude,” I begin to softly sing to myself, “don't make it bad.”

                I swing my arms at my side as the tune picks up, making me sound like a dying creature even worse. It’s a good thing that I’m alone out here in the woods or I would be scarring innocent people with my voice. Once you hear my singing, your eyes are in jeopardy of bleeding to death.

                After my little breakdown yesterday afternoon, I haven’t been feeling completely there. Meredith noticed it after she came home in the evening and noticed the pillows thrown all over the room and broken frames littering the cabin, but she didn’t question me on it. She sensed that all I needed was a bit of alone time, so she wasn’t surprised when I woke up this morning and told her that I needed to go for a long walk in the woods. She always senses this kind of stuff, as she’s just that good.

                God, I will love that girl until the end of time.

                “Take a sad song and make it better,” I continue to chant along to the melody in my head.

                The Beatles have never been my cup of tea, as I never really got into the old school rock music. That kind of music was more of my dad’s thing, as I’m more into pop alternative. Whenever my dad got drunk enough to talk to me kindly, he would bring up the origin of my name.

                My parents meet in the early nineties at an old fashioned record store, as both of them where reaching for the same copy of a Beatles record. My dad was sober and happy off of the fumes of his joint, so he let her take it if she just promised to call him later. She must have been smoking way too much that night, too, as she called him when it was nearly midnight.

                He always said that their romance all happened in a blur, both too far into their personal Nirvana’s to remember that first year well enough. Before they even knew what was happening, she had a ring on her finger and baby on her hips. John Lennon was both of theirs favorite member of the band, so they thought it would be totally rock and roll to name their baby girl after him.

                I’m not too sure that naming me after a legend like that was a great idea, as my dad soon became dependent that I become a legend. He’s a horrible father and person all together, but man does he have good choice in music. Hey Jude has soon become my favorite record of them, with no relation to Jude whatsoever, of course.

                The sound of muffled weeping breaks the choruses of the song, making me break off in the middle of a word. I search the landscape, ducking behind all of the trees I can find in order to look at the source of the crying. Nearing having my face ripped off of my head from a stubborn branch with twigs as sharp as knives, I let out a loud huff in protest.

                The crying comes to a halt, the person tensing up due to the sound of my voice. I guess the person thought they were the only ones in the woods, just like I thought. I don't move, my heart catching in my chest. I want to help this person feel just a little better, so I can't just leave the way I came and try to forget the person is in pain. I'll just have to trick the person into thinking I'm not here anymore, so that I can narrow it down as to where they are.

                A few sniffles later and it comes apparent to me where exactly the sound is coming from. The person has to be almost right in front of me, through the barricade of branches that hides what's on the other side. It's a tricky path to do through, considering my track record with all things pointy, but I march through it anyways.