Dear Someone

NYC Community Center

There are two types of people in the world: I don't like either one of them. Most people are so set on being approved of by everyone else but themselves. They care too much about what everyone else thinks. They often get judged on who they are, and then change themselves because someone else said they should. The "unoriginals" I call them. Then there are the people that judge. Those bastards who really don't know what they're talking about but act like they do. Well newsflash to them: the world doesn't revolve around you. I call them the "controllers". I am proud to say I neither like nor associate with either of them. I'm Allison. I'm a bit different...

I close my notebook and give a heavy sigh. The lobby is still empty. I look over to large clock on the wall above the door. It reads 7:30. The place opens at 8. People should be coming soon.

When I say "the place", I mean the New York City Community Center. People come with friends or family to take part in academic, social, or creative classes. I live here.

I have no family. They were gone before I could wipe the drool from my chin. Who knows where they went and who cares. I'm ok with being alone. I always have been. I'm not completely alone though. I have my writing. I don't need people because I have my thoughts, and let me tell you, they are more loyal and intelligent than anyone I've ever met. So I'm not complaining.

I sleep in a rather peculiar place at the Community Center. Though at times it's quite uncomfortable, I've managed to squeeze under the front desk. With pillows and blankets I've snuck from the sewing and knitting classes, I made myself a small sanctuary to last my nights. The only downside to my choice of spots is Ms. Caruso; the woman who works at the front desk. She often arrives early and I have to get out of bed quick before she gets in. That's what happened today.

Now I'm sitting in the cafeteria that was recently built for people to eat or even buy lunch. It's many table makes it convenient for me to hide for a few hours before my classes. And I seemed to have dozed off because the next thing I knew there was a shuffling of feet and the hushed tones of people talking near. I quickly gather my notebook and pencil before dusting myself off and retreating from the room and out into the lobby.

I got a confused look from Ms. Caruso but averted my gaze and kept walking. Trying not to make eyes contact with any of the instructors or usual students, I sped down the hallways to the nearest bathroom. Before I could turn the corner to reach the door, I ran head on into something- or someone, I found when I looked up to meet his gray-blue eyes. I had never really looked into anyone's eyes before, and now I realized why it was a bad idea: they were gorgeous. But after a few seconds of examining his features, I realized who it was.

He's not exaclty a familiar face in the Community Center, but he was sure well known among this little town in New York. Sam Makely was a man of selectiveness. He was rich, and anyone could see that if they were lucky enough to be invited to his top floor pent house in the apartment building just up the street. I never was; why would I have been? But I once knew a girl who's dad's brother's boss went. He said it was something of a dream.

Getting caught up in his eyes was almost as easy as beliving his apology. I sat on the ground frozen while he brushed off his shirt and looked down at me. He flashed a winning smile and I felt starstruck. But I shook my head, knowing I shouldn't waste my time with him. I reached to my left to pick up my journal that had flown out of my hand. At the same time I reached for it, however, Sam had the same thought. When our hands grabbed the journal at the same time, we froze. I tugged at it and he let go. With that, I quickly got up, ignoring the arm he stretched out for me and glared at him.

As I was getting up, he spoke. "Hey sorry... Going a little fast, weren't you?" He chuckled slightly.

When I stood face to face with him, I noticed he was a good four inches taller than me. I sighed under my breathe and began to walk away before I could get caught up in any of his other features. As I speed walked away, I heard his voice.

"Wait! Are you ok! Hey!" But I was gone.

I continued to run. When I reached my destination, the girl's bathroom in the basement, I almost didn't go inside. I had a strong urge to run back and apologize, to make sure he was ok. Instead, I opened the door, entered the last stall, and pulled an apple out from my jacket pocket. I quickly took a bite, suddenly realizing how hungry I was. I ate my apple in silence as I do every morning. Everything was just the same as always. Well, not really.