Points of View

POV #1:

He leaned against the cushions in the bay window with the curtains half drawn around him. All was still in the house except for the gentle hum of the refrigerator in the next room. He had a rather large and thick hardback book with a red cover and old, worn binding in his lap and a concentrated expression on his face. He ran his hand through his short brown curls, and blew out a frustrated sigh. The book was so boring and difficult to comprehend. His brow scrunched up in utter concentration as he tried yet again to continue the paragraph that made little to no sense, the tiny font not helping anything at all. He glanced out the window, and was mesmerized by the ocean. It was your average cloudy day, but the sea rolled and tumbled with such mysterious grace and power. He wanted to go sailing, to be one with the ocean and ride upon the crests and down to the troughs.  Noticing that he was glancing wistfully outside at the water rather than at his textbook, he groaned again. At this rate, he’d get nothing done! In frustration, he grabbed one of the pillows and threw it into the room, sailing over a couch and landing somewhere behind it.

Instead of hearing the muffled thump that he was expecting from the cushion landing on the hardwood floor, he didn’t hear it land at all. Instead, he heard a muffled and slightly high pitched “ouch”, and a bit of rustling behind the couch.

His senses kicked into overgear. He didn’t make a single noise as he surveyed the room and pinpointed where the noise came from. Was it a burglar? Or a creeper? He silently got to his feet and started padding over to the noise. He held that monotonous and boring textbook in his hand like a weapon, ready to incapacitate the intruder by any means.

Hearing a bit more rustling, there was a sudden movement, a thump, and a flying of feet in the air. He rushed over to see the problem, and was shocked.

“What are you doing here?”

POV #2:

“Hey, are you home?” she called from the front porch of the boringly gray house, but neat and fresh in its paint job. She sulked, knowing that he probably forgot that he needed her to bring some documents for him. Really, the man so absentminded! It really irked her sometime. If she wasn’t completely… interested… in his studies… she would’ve given up on helping him a long time ago. She pushed against the door, and found that it opened easily. Well then, he forgot to lock the door once again. She let herself in, thinking that she would leave the documents on his study table, and be done with the matter. Even if she really wanted to see his face. I mean ask him about his new discoveries, she thought to herself, even more irked that she really allowed that thought to slip into her head.

She snuck into his study, and left the papers with a bright post-it note attached on the space in the middle of his desk. It was like the eye of the storm – papers strewn around it in no particular order, as if thrown randomly, but a random empty space in the middle for him to work in. It was so him that she almost laughed.

Suddenly, she heard a frustrated sigh coming from the next room. Oh, so he’s in his little reading alcove, she thought. She crept over there, and noticed him in the gap between the curtains. His little frustrated expression almost made her giggle, and then she realized the position she was in. she had just broken into his house, and now was staring at him without him noticing through curtains. She ducked behind the couch that was conveniently placed between them, and then cringed. Wow, apparently being a stalker was in her blood. Every reflex and reaction just made her position seem worse and worse. While she was pondering, she heard a frustrated groan, and seconds later was hit by a flying cushion. She squeaked out an “ouch” before clapping her hands to her mouth. She had to get out of there. Now.

She got to a crouching position, and was about to make a mad dash for the door when she stepped on the cushion that was on the floor and fell to the floor with a flailing of limbs and a definitely audible thump.

When she got her bearings back, she saw his face looking at her with surprise and confusion. “What are you doing here,” he asked. She grinned up at him sheepishly, embarrassed to be caught in such a state, and replied, “Just stopping by.”

Alone

With a smile and a hug, I bid my excited and chattering friends farewell as they all shuffled to my friend E-'s house, a cute blue abode within five minutes walking distance from the school. Really, if that little path didn't close down, she would be a single minute away (and she probably would not be rushing in barely late all the time). However, couple angry neighbors and a fence later, the path was down for the count. Goodness, I really wish that people took better care of the path so that we all could use it...

But I digress. As I turned away, I lightly trotted in my satin black flats toward the exit of the school. I could feel the talking from the lunchroom die away as I walked farther and farther away. I approached the metal door, and braced myself as I swung it open on its newly oiled hinges. A cold blast of air met my face with great force, and I cringed a bit. It was getting quite chilly, and my knee length velvet skirt with a cute lace border did not do much in the warmth department. Oh, the price I pay for fashion...

The door swung close behind me, shutting out the last of the unintelligible noise from the munching students out. A breeze blew, and carried the faint sound of the marching band's single drumbeat over to my ears. I glanced over at the tiny figures in the football field - they looked nice and warm. Unlike me. I could make out some of them leaning over to whisper to friends as they stomped up and down the astro-turf faux grass, trying not to be caught by the band director. They had each other, they had company, they had their own secrets to share and experience with each other. Unlike me.

Feeling unbearably lonely, knowing that all of my friends were most likely laughing and chattering together on the way to E-'s – or perhaps they were already there – in companionable happiness, I fished out my black Ipod from my backpack. I dutifully and slowly unwound the pink ear buds from its coiled position around the clear plastic shell that surrounded my listening device.

Boy I like you, gotta make you mine, Imma treat you right baby


Why is everything so easy for them? Why does it seem like they’re just expressing their desire and poof everything just happens perfectly?

Baby I need you, boy you need me too

So songs really don’t apply to real life. If anyone said that, it would either be received as an arrogant statement, or be some kind of sappy romance in a chick flick. But what I wouldn’t give for my life to be a fairy tale sometimes. Happily ever after? Yeah, that sounds pretty good to me. Cutesy songs accompanying me and my lovely exploits with kind animals at every corner. Yeah, it does sound really good. Perhaps a little scary at first (after all, animals that talk and approach you and help with random tasks would be a little disorientating at first), but I could really get used to it. The good girl always wins the guy of her dreams, right? Or at least realizes that the person who loves her is the guy of her dreams, or something. It’s better that what’s happening in my life right now.

Because I’m all alone. Alone. I have friends yes, but I’m alone, my other half is missing. Although, in all honesty, I’m not so sure my other half exists, and I do pride myself in being an independent woman. But sometimes, I truly do desire someone to be with me at my side…

Thoughts race through my head, weighing the pros and cons of being alone versus with someone. Sometimes, a wistful smile passes my face, only to be hidden under the stoic blanket of indifference.

The bus comes, and I get on, alone.

Alone…

Alone.