If You Only Knew

note: each chapter is named "him" or "her." "him" is obviously from the guy's point of view, "her" is obviously from the girl's point of view.





HIM

She slunk into the room, taking a seat in the back, just like she always does. She’d only been here for about a month, but she had quickly drawn my attention. She never smiled. Her eyes were filled with this haunting sadness, like she had seen everything in the world that an eighty-year-old has, and not like she was only a teenager. She was so dreadfully skinny and her clothes draped over her frail frame. She only wore layers of clothes, tatty, mangy old things that didn’t look like anything someone should have. She looked like she came from a low-income family, the kind who barely has enough money to feed themselves, much less have enough to buy good clothes. They looked like really old hand-me-downs, ones who were on their last few weeks of life before being tossed in the trash.

I watched her as she did her usual Sunday routine. Come in silently, sit down in the back, and pull out a Bible that has definitely seen better years. She would say a little prayer, and then borrow a pen and some paper. She never seemed to write on the paper, but then again, I wasn’t looking at her all the time. That would just be creepy.

Church had gotten interesting since she started coming. In truth, it was just the same, and nobody noticed her, or talked to her, or even knew her name. I tried talking to her once, but she just stared at the floor, and the one time our eyes did meet hers immediately filled with fear and she looked away as fast as she could.

“Okay, class, let’s open our Bibles to the book of Joshua,” the youth pastor began. I glanced at her. Thin fingers ruffled the pages, quickly searching for the book, and then smoothing out the fine page when she found it. I returned to my book, flipping to Judges almost automatically. Having grown up in a house that was centered on God, I knew the books and where they were before I learned how to walk. I could tell she had no background with Him, and that her seemingly certain motions expertly masked the uncertainty that clouded her.

The pastor droned on. I never paid attention anymore. My thoughts were always on her. Someone asked me the other day if I had a crush on her. Did I have a crush on her? No, it was merely curiosity. How could I have a crush on someone whom I’ve never talked to, who won’t even tell you her name, how old she is, and anything about her?

She stared intently at the pastor, soaking it all in. I could see the faint edges of a smile echoing on her lips, determination overpowering her face. She wanted to be closer to God, I could see it, and whenever he read the scripture, she mouthed the words along with him, as if etching them into her memory.



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not done; just wondering if anyone thinks it is interesting enough to continue with. please tell me, even though i'll be continuing anyway.