Post by Anna on May 8, 2008 17:32:57 GMT -5
this is kind of...different. i dont know how itll turn out, and it might be kinda confusing at first, but...hopefully this is gonna work. lol ill try anyways.
People were laughing. Everyone was smiling and chatting, having a great time. For the first time in a long while, I felt happy. Wanted. Loved.
“Rachel, sweetie, come and join us.” A beautiful woman called me over to the dining room table, where everyone was settling down for dinner. She smiled at me with warm eyes and patted the seat next to her. Without hesitation, I obeyed and sat down. Suddenly she and the man sitting across from me both grabbed my hands, bowing their heads in prayer. The man began thanking the Lord for the meal set in front of us, and I looked up, at the people around me. Next to me was the woman, holding a silent baby in one arm. He played pith the corner of the blanket covering him. When he saw me looking, he stopped, and his face scrunched up into a crooked smile. I moved my eyes across the table, to the man who was speaking. His eyes tightly closed, you could tell he genuinely cared about what he was preaching, just like he genuinely cared about everything else, which was what made him so great. Next to him, a young boy was sitting, not listening-as most kids his age seem to never do-and kicking his legs wildly under the table. He stuck his tongue out at me and I returned the gesture, giggling.
“Rachel.” The woman whispered in a warning tone, opening one eye to peer down at me. She had a faint smile on her face, and as soon as the prayer was done, the smile grew. Food was passed around, and everything was just like it should be. We were together, enjoying each other and everything we had. We were family.
“Denny, get up!” My eyes shot open, and I blinked a few times until they adjusted to the light. When I saw the girl who after a few moments I recognized as my roommate Kelly, I frowned. It had been a dream.
“You ok Denny?” Kelly asked, eyeing me suspiciously. I secretly wished she’d call me Rachel, like the woman in the dream had. But I knew that was impossible, and that even though it didn't seem like it a few minutes ago, I could have only been about twelve years old in the dream. The days of ‘Rachel’, the kind, pretty lady, the loving and caring man, the smiling baby, and the hyper-sometimes annoying-boy were long gone and I could never go back to that. Now I was Denise Jones, Denise because of someone I used to know, and Jones because…it was just second thing that came to mind. I was a college student that lived in a small apartment with Kelly, the perky, energetic girl you sometimes wished you never met. I sat up in my bed, glancing at my clock. 10:32.
“Yea, I’m fine, I didn't realize I was sleeping so late.” I said.
“Ok, well I made some eggs this morning, they’re on the counter. I gotta go, I have a class at 11. See you later.” She said, standing up and rushing out of the room, giving me a quick wave before closing the door behind her. Yawning, I got out of bed, loving the fact that I had no classes on Saturdays. I could just kick back all day if I wanted to, but I knew that wouldn’t be a good idea. Still, I decided against changing out of my comfortable pajamas and plopped myself down on the couch, turned on the TV, and enjoyed the eggs Kelly had made. I flipped through a million channels, finding absolutely nothing. I stopped at the Early Show; they have some interesting stuff now and then. I sighed, didn't look like that was happening today. There were three young boys on the screen, performing some song I’m guessing they wrote. The one singing, who looked like the youngest, was actually pretty good, but he was only about eleven or twelve, his voice hadn't matured yet, and that made him sound like a little kid. The other two were a few years older than him, maybe at least fifteen-sixteen. One of them was singing along with the younger boy, dancing across the stage with no coordination whatsoever. I had a feeling he was supposed to stay in the background, but that didn't seem to be working too well for him. The third boy just stood there playing his guitar, either mouthing the lyrics or singing so quietly no one could hear him. It was a pretty ok song, I have to admit, but it wasn’t worth paying much attention to. I kept it on though, since nothing else was on this early on a Saturday morning.
“Whole town’s talkin’ about the Jonas boys.” My fork froze half way to my mouth when I heard the first thing said after the song ended. The scrambled eggs threatened to plop onto my plate at any second, but I didn't move. Did he just say…they did kind of look…but it couldn’t be. There were three of them, after all.
“Thank you for coming in, we really do appreciate it.” The man on TV was saying. I stopped all the crazy thoughts running through my head long enough to stare at the kids on the screen. They mostly talked to the youngest one, the one who had been singing, but I kept my eyes on the older two. Suddenly I got an unbelievably stupid idea in my head, but as crazy as it was, it wouldn’t go away. I knew where they filmed this show. I could be there in half an hour easily. But would they still be there? Who knew. I quickly put my plate on the coffee table, slipped some nearby flip-flops on- even though it was probably freezing outside- and grabbed my keys and jacket, fully aware that I was still in my pajamas. As I guessed, in a little under thirty minutes the huge sign came into view. Under the picture of a steaming hot cup of coffee, it said ‘Nicholas Jonas’ on it in huge black letters; this was definitely the place. I pulled into the parking lot and got out of my car, heading for the doors. A security guard stopped me.
“I have to get in there!” I pleaded, knowing it was pointless. “Please sir, just tell me if the Jonas’ are still there.” I said when he wouldn’t let me enter the building.
“Ma’am, I can’t tell you that, I’m sorry. You’ll have to leave now.” He said, gently taking my arm and turning me around, away from the doors.
“But I just…” I started, turning back around. “Never mind, thank you, gotta go, bye!” I finished quickly, seeing someone coming from the other side of the door. They were still here; they had stayed for the rest of the show. And now the three boys I had seen singing this morning were walking out of the building, happily talking to a beautiful woman with warm eyes and a happy, kind looking man, carrying a young boy in his arms. I stared at them for a moment before realizing I couldn’t let them see me. I had to leave, and soon. I glanced through the door one last time before quickly spying the line of bushes bordering the lawn. Why did I even come here? Was I planning on just walk right up and say ‘hey, remember me?’ Yea, that was going great; here I was about to hide in a bush like a little kid. I dove behind them just in time, the door opened and the family walked out, the woman continually complementing the boys on what a great job they did. Hearing her kind, genuine voice made my chest feel heavy and my throat start to close up. I watched from my hiding place as she passed me, followed by the two younger boys and the man carrying the child. The boy with the guitar followed behind, set a little apart from the rest of the group. You could tell he was in his own little world, the way he just stared at the trees and flowers as he walked by. I took a deep breath; at the same time making a decision that could have been one of the many I’d make that day.
“Kevin!” I hissed, barely in a whisper. He stopped walking, causing the rest of his family to also stop and turn.
“Kevin? What’s the matter?” The man asked him. Kevin shook his head, clearly confused.
“I…I could have sworn someone said my name.” He said.
“It was her! I saw her say it!” The little boy announced, pointing a chubby finger at the bushes where I hid. I squeezed my eyes shut and cursed under my breath. I heard footsteps, then leaves rustling.
“Frankie’s right, there’s someone here.” It was the background singer who couldn’t dance, talking about me like I wasn’t even there. I sighed; they knew I was there.
“Uh…yea, that was me, sorry.” I mumbled, keeping my head down. I turned away from them and walked quickly toward the parking lot. I could hear the adults quietly discussing what had just happened behind me.
“Wait!” I heard the woman yell. I started to run. She kept calling after me, but I only ran faster. Finally I made it to my car, got in, and drove off as fast as I could. Stopping at the streetlight, I glanced in the rearview mirror. The woman was standing in the middle of the parking lot entrance, staring at my car, tears falling from her eyes. The man was running after her, leaving four very confused boys behind on the sidewalk. I wanted more than anything than to turn around and go back to them, but I knew that was impossible. A tear rolled slowly down my cheek. I had left them behind once; I could do it again.
People were laughing. Everyone was smiling and chatting, having a great time. For the first time in a long while, I felt happy. Wanted. Loved.
“Rachel, sweetie, come and join us.” A beautiful woman called me over to the dining room table, where everyone was settling down for dinner. She smiled at me with warm eyes and patted the seat next to her. Without hesitation, I obeyed and sat down. Suddenly she and the man sitting across from me both grabbed my hands, bowing their heads in prayer. The man began thanking the Lord for the meal set in front of us, and I looked up, at the people around me. Next to me was the woman, holding a silent baby in one arm. He played pith the corner of the blanket covering him. When he saw me looking, he stopped, and his face scrunched up into a crooked smile. I moved my eyes across the table, to the man who was speaking. His eyes tightly closed, you could tell he genuinely cared about what he was preaching, just like he genuinely cared about everything else, which was what made him so great. Next to him, a young boy was sitting, not listening-as most kids his age seem to never do-and kicking his legs wildly under the table. He stuck his tongue out at me and I returned the gesture, giggling.
“Rachel.” The woman whispered in a warning tone, opening one eye to peer down at me. She had a faint smile on her face, and as soon as the prayer was done, the smile grew. Food was passed around, and everything was just like it should be. We were together, enjoying each other and everything we had. We were family.
“Denny, get up!” My eyes shot open, and I blinked a few times until they adjusted to the light. When I saw the girl who after a few moments I recognized as my roommate Kelly, I frowned. It had been a dream.
“You ok Denny?” Kelly asked, eyeing me suspiciously. I secretly wished she’d call me Rachel, like the woman in the dream had. But I knew that was impossible, and that even though it didn't seem like it a few minutes ago, I could have only been about twelve years old in the dream. The days of ‘Rachel’, the kind, pretty lady, the loving and caring man, the smiling baby, and the hyper-sometimes annoying-boy were long gone and I could never go back to that. Now I was Denise Jones, Denise because of someone I used to know, and Jones because…it was just second thing that came to mind. I was a college student that lived in a small apartment with Kelly, the perky, energetic girl you sometimes wished you never met. I sat up in my bed, glancing at my clock. 10:32.
“Yea, I’m fine, I didn't realize I was sleeping so late.” I said.
“Ok, well I made some eggs this morning, they’re on the counter. I gotta go, I have a class at 11. See you later.” She said, standing up and rushing out of the room, giving me a quick wave before closing the door behind her. Yawning, I got out of bed, loving the fact that I had no classes on Saturdays. I could just kick back all day if I wanted to, but I knew that wouldn’t be a good idea. Still, I decided against changing out of my comfortable pajamas and plopped myself down on the couch, turned on the TV, and enjoyed the eggs Kelly had made. I flipped through a million channels, finding absolutely nothing. I stopped at the Early Show; they have some interesting stuff now and then. I sighed, didn't look like that was happening today. There were three young boys on the screen, performing some song I’m guessing they wrote. The one singing, who looked like the youngest, was actually pretty good, but he was only about eleven or twelve, his voice hadn't matured yet, and that made him sound like a little kid. The other two were a few years older than him, maybe at least fifteen-sixteen. One of them was singing along with the younger boy, dancing across the stage with no coordination whatsoever. I had a feeling he was supposed to stay in the background, but that didn't seem to be working too well for him. The third boy just stood there playing his guitar, either mouthing the lyrics or singing so quietly no one could hear him. It was a pretty ok song, I have to admit, but it wasn’t worth paying much attention to. I kept it on though, since nothing else was on this early on a Saturday morning.
“Whole town’s talkin’ about the Jonas boys.” My fork froze half way to my mouth when I heard the first thing said after the song ended. The scrambled eggs threatened to plop onto my plate at any second, but I didn't move. Did he just say…they did kind of look…but it couldn’t be. There were three of them, after all.
“Thank you for coming in, we really do appreciate it.” The man on TV was saying. I stopped all the crazy thoughts running through my head long enough to stare at the kids on the screen. They mostly talked to the youngest one, the one who had been singing, but I kept my eyes on the older two. Suddenly I got an unbelievably stupid idea in my head, but as crazy as it was, it wouldn’t go away. I knew where they filmed this show. I could be there in half an hour easily. But would they still be there? Who knew. I quickly put my plate on the coffee table, slipped some nearby flip-flops on- even though it was probably freezing outside- and grabbed my keys and jacket, fully aware that I was still in my pajamas. As I guessed, in a little under thirty minutes the huge sign came into view. Under the picture of a steaming hot cup of coffee, it said ‘Nicholas Jonas’ on it in huge black letters; this was definitely the place. I pulled into the parking lot and got out of my car, heading for the doors. A security guard stopped me.
“I have to get in there!” I pleaded, knowing it was pointless. “Please sir, just tell me if the Jonas’ are still there.” I said when he wouldn’t let me enter the building.
“Ma’am, I can’t tell you that, I’m sorry. You’ll have to leave now.” He said, gently taking my arm and turning me around, away from the doors.
“But I just…” I started, turning back around. “Never mind, thank you, gotta go, bye!” I finished quickly, seeing someone coming from the other side of the door. They were still here; they had stayed for the rest of the show. And now the three boys I had seen singing this morning were walking out of the building, happily talking to a beautiful woman with warm eyes and a happy, kind looking man, carrying a young boy in his arms. I stared at them for a moment before realizing I couldn’t let them see me. I had to leave, and soon. I glanced through the door one last time before quickly spying the line of bushes bordering the lawn. Why did I even come here? Was I planning on just walk right up and say ‘hey, remember me?’ Yea, that was going great; here I was about to hide in a bush like a little kid. I dove behind them just in time, the door opened and the family walked out, the woman continually complementing the boys on what a great job they did. Hearing her kind, genuine voice made my chest feel heavy and my throat start to close up. I watched from my hiding place as she passed me, followed by the two younger boys and the man carrying the child. The boy with the guitar followed behind, set a little apart from the rest of the group. You could tell he was in his own little world, the way he just stared at the trees and flowers as he walked by. I took a deep breath; at the same time making a decision that could have been one of the many I’d make that day.
“Kevin!” I hissed, barely in a whisper. He stopped walking, causing the rest of his family to also stop and turn.
“Kevin? What’s the matter?” The man asked him. Kevin shook his head, clearly confused.
“I…I could have sworn someone said my name.” He said.
“It was her! I saw her say it!” The little boy announced, pointing a chubby finger at the bushes where I hid. I squeezed my eyes shut and cursed under my breath. I heard footsteps, then leaves rustling.
“Frankie’s right, there’s someone here.” It was the background singer who couldn’t dance, talking about me like I wasn’t even there. I sighed; they knew I was there.
“Uh…yea, that was me, sorry.” I mumbled, keeping my head down. I turned away from them and walked quickly toward the parking lot. I could hear the adults quietly discussing what had just happened behind me.
“Wait!” I heard the woman yell. I started to run. She kept calling after me, but I only ran faster. Finally I made it to my car, got in, and drove off as fast as I could. Stopping at the streetlight, I glanced in the rearview mirror. The woman was standing in the middle of the parking lot entrance, staring at my car, tears falling from her eyes. The man was running after her, leaving four very confused boys behind on the sidewalk. I wanted more than anything than to turn around and go back to them, but I knew that was impossible. A tear rolled slowly down my cheek. I had left them behind once; I could do it again.
ill post more ASAP though
