The Solitary

A/N: Thank you @AllTheStarsCollide for the beautiful cover. Sorry for being so picky!

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THE SOLITARY

According to many, loneliness is a kind of a cancer. It will eat into your happiness, slowly but surely, until you end up being a psycho or killing yourself. I disagree. Living alone is like the best damn thing in the world. Born and brought up in an orphanage, you would think that I would be craving for some company. But no, thank you. I've seen people living more unhappily together, than alone. From schools to offices to homes I've seen problems arising only because of people getting attached to people.

Most orphans often wish they were with their true parents or atleast wished to have seen them once. But I didn't. Since young, I never questioned why they had abandoned me. I understood at such a tender age, that having me would have probably complicated their lives and from this understanding stemmed my desire to live in the world, at the same time, away from everyone. Saves all kinds of trouble I thought.

I was so wrong.

It began on a cold evening. I was in my apartment watching reruns of some daytime talk show. As the hostess began to badger the audience to dance with her, I switched it off getting tired of her exaggerted false optimism. Who can truly enjoy cosying up with all kinds of artistes, some of whom they don't even like? It must be such a painful job, having a smile plastered on your face when you just want to kick them out of the couch.

Sighing at the stupidity of people, I turned the music up on the stereo. As the slow music filled my head, I moved to it. Swaying my body side to side, raising my hands above my head, I let the music fill me, when the shrill sound of my phone interrupted my musical intoxciation.

I picked it up and a song played.

"Some things gotta give now, 'cause I'm dying just to make you see that I need you here with me now 'cause you've got that one thing."

The song sounded familiar. But I couldn't put my finger on the name. Anyway it was just some popular teen song by a newly popular teen boy band. The real question though, was why would someone call me just to play some cheesy pop song? A prank? An accident? "Hello?" I said, my voice filled with doubt. The song stopped playing. I could hear someone breathing into their phone. Then a man spoke.

"Hey, sweetheart."

This was probably a wrong call. I was not close enough to anyone to call me a sweetheart. "Um, I'm sorry, but I think you've called the wrong number," I said. There was more breathing on the other end of the line.

I waited, then the man spoke again, "You've no idea. About how long I've waited to hear your voice and it is definitely way sweeter than I imagined."

I raised my eyebrow. He was confusing me. "You called the wrong number, I think," I said.

After more breathing he said, "No. You are Raina. You only think so because you don't know who I am."

"Well, then who are you?" I asked.

"You could say that I am your fan, who wants us to get closer." was his reply.

Fan? This man was mad. "Sorry, but I don't want to know who you are, so bye," I said.

That man seemed to struggle for words for a few seconds before whispering, "Please don't talk so quickly, love. I want to relish the sound of your voice. It's too sweet for me to take it in as fast you speak with them."

He was officialy crazy. There was no point in talking to him anymore. I disconnected the line, switched off the stereo and lights and retired to my bed. Tomorrow was gonna be a long day of auditing for me and that creepy caller was not going to disturb my much needed relaxation before the next day began.