It’s Possible

As I walk home on days like this, alone, upset, overall just unsettled, I can’t help but think. The wind is cool and refreshing against my arms. I look around the streets, seeing people milling about, doing their everyday normal things and suddenly I’m acutely aware of my short-sleeve dress. Then I realize that I’m not wearing leggings either. I think about what Skyla’s told me time after time. Bad things happen every day. It wouldn’t be hard for someone to snatch me up off the sidewalk. That thought alone sets off alarms in my head, a flurry of thoughts. Most of them scared or anxious.

The worst of the thoughts are the ones that aren’t. The small part of me that isn’t sane is hoping that I do get sweeped up. That I’m loaded into someone’s dingy white van and taken away to who knows where. I’d beg for mercy as I’m waiting for someone to come save me. A someone with crystalline green eyes and a mess of brown hair. The worst part is that I know he would. (He’s always had a kind of hero complex)  Matthew would save me over and over again. He’d look at me with worry and love and I’d smile tiredly and he’s take me home. I’d confess to him and he would accept with tears in his eyes. The simple thought of that makes me want to swoon.

But look at me, walking calmly in the streets, at a standstill. I could be at a standstill for the rest of my life. With Matthew distracted by his worries, never one looking in my direction.I sighed.

There was another way, wasn’t there? I could get him to look at me. Get his head out of his worries and onto me. That’d kill two birds with one stone, wouldn’t it? Maybe I could make a difference, get him to look my way. It’s possible.