Trust in a Stranger

She sat, her head buried in her arms tucked around her legs. If the world had ended then she wouldn’t have minded, she wouldn’t have cared at all. She felt pathetic, so stupid, to believe such a thing, when her friends all told her it was rubbish. She embraced her knees closer, not wanting to let go, not wanting to look up and return to reality. Tears feel down her face, and began to dry upon her cheeks. She wept, as short moans escaped her, tears falling faster as her limps began to shake, not knowing of how to get herself out of the ditch she had fallen only hours ago. She wasn’t used to that sort of crying, she often was teary eyed behind her glasses, but never let her emotions leave as wildly as they were then. 1

‘Stop crying.’ A voice abruptly called out, seeming so close and yet so distant.2

She lifted her head, expecting to see her friends, shouting ‘I told you so.’ But there was no one in front, and as she turned, she could still see no one.3

‘I used to cry like that.’ The voice echoed, and she turned again.4

It sounded less familiar that time, she could hear the voice moving around her, but could see no one. It was getting darker in the park, the bench beneath her was colder, and she became more and more aware of how alone she was…5

‘I used to cry every night, it became a hobby, what’s your reason?’6

She mumbled words, unable to speak, fear taking over as a lump formed in her throat, her airways getting dryer and dryer as she attempted to follow the voice.7

‘Who are you?’ she murmured, her head turning, her hands gripping onto the railing beside her, as fear grew inside her.8

‘You look scared.’ He whispered.9

‘I…I…I…’ she knew no words to explain how she was feeling, and felt speechless as the figure appeared before her, hidden in the shadows. 10

‘Who are you?’ she repeated herself.11

She stood, approaching him, letting her curiosity take over her fear. She saw the outline, a long trench coat, long hair, and he began to move, approaching her. Her eyes flickered as he entered the light of the streetlamp. 12

‘Who are you?’ she asked again, hoping he would answer this time.13

She stared, looking him up and down, tight black trousers, zips lining the sides, chains flowing off, a loose trench coat, revealing a deep red wife beater. He had long shining black hair, make up lining his eyes, in contrast to his pale bony face. Silver jewellery lined his fingers, and a silver pentagram wrapped around his neck. Her eyes were wide in amazement, in curiosity, she’d seen people pass and ignore her, but he’d stopped, talked to her, and she wondered why.14

‘My friend used to do this to me…’ he said, his voice deep and husky.15

‘Do what?’ she asked, taking in the strange event.16

‘When I was in floods of tears, and unable to stop, he would scare me, or hurt me, a certain amount of pain or fear takes over the thoughts that cause pain and tears, he did it most nights, helped me leave the dark hole I dug myself.’17

‘Oh.’ She said, looking down.18

He approached her, closer and closer, and she trembled, head low, looking down at the heavy black boots he wore, metal lining them. He took another step closer, and she inhaled quickly, tightening her lips. Only inches from her, he wrapped his hand around her throat, raising her head, and wiping away her tears. She squinted as the light shone into her eyes, looking down at his chipped black nail varnish.19

‘Don’t cry, I’ve never met you before and just from seeing you, I know he’s not worth it.’ He whispered, removing his hand, her head falling like a limp puppet, feeling weak with his soft touch.20

His appearance was deceiving, she knew that, he seemed so rough, so hard, and yet just by a single touch, she knew he was gentle, juts by his few words, she knew his was kind.21

‘How did you know…’ she asked, wondering how he knew the subject of her tears and hurt.22

He ignored her words, walking slowly out of the light, ‘take a walk.’23

She had only just met him, and felt compelled to follow, at that moment, as he took her hand in his, danger fled her mind and they wandered through the park, silence floating comfortably between them. She stared out, listening to the rustling through bushes and trees. He pretended not to look, but couldn’t help to. She looked almost stunning and yet so scruffy. He glanced up and down, black trousers, a white top, hidden by a blue hoody, clearly too big as it reached over her fingertips. He listened to her breathing, quick, shallow, she was nervous, and so he ran his fingers along her hand, hoping she would calm.24

‘What time is it? she asked, turning to him, suddenly aware of how long she had been crying, as a headache formed.25

He glanced down to his mobile phone, his pale hand wrapped around it.26

‘Almost midnight.’27

She stopped, turning to him, ‘I should go home,’ she said, her voice quiet, more peaceful.28

‘Ok.’ He said, watching as jogged away, her shoes almost escaping her feet, her arms flailing, her legs staggering, aching….29