hearts Heather hearts's blog: "The Thoughts"

I walk into the house. I was very surprised at how modern the house looked. I was still afraid of this man yet I seemed to not be able to voice all the questions that were bubbling in mind. He went into what seemed the butler’s pantry which then led to the kitchen. Juxtaposed to the kitchen was a dinning room and a living room. He went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. He drank from it and then set it on the counter. He looked at me and held his hand out, as if telling me to go in the direction it was pointing. I walked into the living room as he followed me. I followed his suit as he sat down. He looked so calm, almost as calm as I felt at that moment. This was quite absurd since he did kidnap me, in a way I suppose. Maybe he had slipped something into my drink and I was under some sort of control. Or maybe it was mind control. And the reason I stood outside of my car for so long was because he was controlling my mind, and made sure I paid no attention to him entering my car. But as I thought them over they all seemed absurd. We sat there in his living room for what seemed like ten to fifteen minutes, just staring at each other. I really did think he was controlling my mind, possibly even reading what I was thinking. But when he did speak, it was by far the last thing I ever thought he would say. “Alexis Allen, my name is James Drake.” He said and continued at my surprise reaction, “Yes Ms. Allen, I know full well who you are. I have been following you for a few days now. I went into the bar to tell you my urgency in keeping you safe, but when I saw them, I just could not let them know I had found you. They would be furious at me and most likely kill you in front of me for the pure pleasure of enraging me. That is of course why I had ignored you when you came up to me. I could not let them know that I had contact with you. I am sure your devastated face had told them I knew nothing of you. But when you left the bar, which had caught me off guard. I wanted to follow you, but I knew they would be watching me just to make sure I had nothing to do with you. So I snuck out that back and hid in your car. I knew they would recognize my car following yours, and having been so close to them, I was not willing to risk that. I told you the directions to my home, only because I know they will not expect me here without my car.” He had stopped and had a soft barely noticeably smile tugging on his lips. “Little do they know, I placed a bomb on the car and when they try to get into the car, they will get blown up. Of course that would never actually kill them, but I am sure that would annoy them a great deal. I do hope they don’t realize you are with me though. They are good at finding the bait, but hardly ever smart enough to figure out my traps. You must believe me that they do wish you harm Ms. Allen and I have every intention of keeping you safe.”

He was sitting in the car with me. How could he have moved from inside the bar into my vehicle so fast? Thousands of questions ran into my head and I stared open mouthed at him. I didn't really think he would harm me which was stupid and I knew it. Of course he was going to hurt me and there I sat unmoving looking at him with my mouth ajar. How idiotic, I thought. "Start the engine and pull out to the main highways," he said and I sat there for a few more seconds before complying to his demand. I thought about that for a while as I made my way down the streets to the main highway. It was a demand, not a request. He didn't say please or anything or even tell me why or where we were going. I felt this odd sense of adrenaline as I drove swiftly down the roads and carefully made it to the highway. The highway stretched through the entire state, though it did not leave it. I just hoped where we were going wasn't too far. I didn't want to be in danger, but I didn't want to be too far from home in case of trying to run away from him. But the more I sat in the car with him the less nervous I felt. I was almost feeling safe with this man, which was ludicrous, I don't even know him. I thought he considered my lower than dirt. And here I am sitting in the car with him. How strange indeed. He finally gave me the rest of the directions and I made my way to a dirt road that seemed to stretch on forever. Where was he taking me? What was he going to do with me? Oh my, so many questions running through my head, that even after I stopped that car, I still sat there lost in my thoughts. He got out of the car but didn't go into the modest looking house. I couldn't see much of it in the dark but I could tell there was a garage and a wrap around porch. It was really indeed a lovely little home. "This is my home," he said. He stared at me for what seemed like eternity and then he started walking towards the house. He was taking me inside his house!!

He stand there. Waiting. Watching. For who? He stands among others, yet he stands out. There is no other like him, yet he is normal. He wears a black pin stripped suit. His shirt looks whiter than white. His hair looks perfect. Every strand has its own place and is holding it well. I have been looking at him for a few minutes. I look at my watch. It is a plain watch with only the numbers twelve, three, sex and nine present. It is nine-thirty. I arrived a half hour ago. I am alone. I am by myself. I am lonely. I look at the man sitting in front of me. He is still talking. Why is he still talking? What is he talking about? I listen for a minute and realize he is talking about politics. Why is he talking about politics to me? I don't care what an Irish man like him thinks about U.S. politics. Just because I am from the U.S. does not mean I want to travel this vast world with people judging me by who my president is. I don't judge him because of his ruler. Why am I being judged? I remember why I had stopped listening to him before. I look back at him. The man. The one sitting by himself. He is very handsome. Dark brown hair, fair skin, and freckles. I only wish I could see his eyes. I can only imagine how sexy they are. I want him to look at me. I will for him to feel my eyes on him. How badly I want those eyes on me. But all my willing has no affect on him. This perfect angel does not look my way. If only. I tell the man talking about how wrong politics are in the U.S. that I need to go to the little girl's room. He seems unaffected by this and walks over to another woman and starts to talk to her. She must be American too because he seems to start the same conversation up with her. I walk across the bar and sit down next to him. I am so nervous. He still hasn't looked at me. I want him to look at me so bad. I clear my throat. "Hello," I say trying to catch his attention. He looks over at me. My heart skips a beat. He is so beautiful. He looks back at something I can't seem to see. He steps a bit away from me. He does not want to talk to me. Am I really that repulsive? "Sorry," I murmur as I walk away. I walk out of the bar. I am pissed. How can he treat me like that? I can be so craved by fools I do not want and not even acknowledged by the ones I do like. Where does he get off dismissing me so easily. He barely looked at me before he made that small gesture that assured me he was not interested in the smallest bit. I am standing in the parking lot. It is cold outside, but I haven't seemed to notice. Or I am just too mad to care. I walk to my car. It is a dark blue corvette. It is my dream car. I saved up for four years for this car. Its custom paint job. Its upgraded engine, and well, everything they said I could upgrade. I wanted the best of the best. I would not settle for anything less. The price was high, but I was willing to pay. I was able to pay the entire car off. I smiled when I told my parents I wanted to bring it with me to London. They were not happy I will tell you that. It cost a bit of money to bring the car with me, but so far it has proven its worth. I have been driving around the UK for a while and plan to leave Ireland next week and return home. This vacation this year was amazing. My mind tries to trail off on all the wonderful things I did this year in the UK, but I can't stop letting my mind wonder back to him. The man who stands in the crowd. The one who has rejected me. I sigh and get into the car. I go to put my purse on the seat next to mine. But he is sitting there. He is in my car. He is watching me. My heart stops. He is in my car.

Life is a weird thing when you really sit down and think about it. I don't just mean you are bored one day and skim the idea for a minute before your random thoughts lead you somewhere else. I mean when you sit down and actually think about it. I guess I have a lot of time on my hands because I seem to do it a lot. And isn't that what a blog is for? To write out your thoughts? I have always found it easier to be able to say something or write it down to further explore a thought. Like I said before, our thoughts are generally pretty random and it is sometimes hard to follow one train of thoughts. So here I am sitting in my room writing in a blog. Lots of questions come to mind. Will anyone read this? Will they like it? Will I like it when I look back and realize what was going on through my mind a week ago, a month ago, a year ago. Wow a year, that would be a very long time. Or is it? In the vast of our lives, the older we get the faster our lives go. So wouldn't that mean each day that goes by, the faster it will seem that the next one will come? So like I said before... life. It is an interesting topic that I generally find myself thinking about. What will become of my life and what kind of people will be in it? There are just so many questions and so many new ones every time something happens. A lot of questions get answered too. Like, am I going to lose my virginity before it becomes legal for me? Nope. I still haven't lost it and I am legal now. But there are other questions that remain a mystery to me right now that even if I was told the answer I don't think I would like to hear it very much. Like when and how am I going to die. My whole life would be spent wondering what I will do in my final days.That is no way to life a life if you ask me. I want to go through my life living the best that I can without ever looking back on any decision that I make. I believe that every thing you do is done for a reason and even if you mess up on something, you were meant to mess up. I don't believe in destiny, at least not a predictable one, but I don't really think there ever really was a wrong choice. I think every choice has benefits and downfalls and even though some seem worse that others, that is just appearance. For example, my parents had me. But now they are divorced. Was it a mistake they got married? Hell no. Or else I would not be alive. I would never had done all the things I have done with my life and hope to do in the future. Even if I do make mistakes, the outcome will affect not only me but the world. It makes me sad sometimes when people get so bent out of shape about the most simplest things. I am just such a laid back person that it really does amaze me how wrapped up they are in little things. But I will leave on that note. If you did read this, thank you for taking the time to read my thoughts. Maybe I will get around to reading some of yours :P Don't worry, it makes your face look old ;) The Best!