The Diary of Jane

I just kept running.
Running, running, running, running.
Breathing, breathing, breathing, breathing.
Running, running, running, running.
Thinking; where am I going?
Why am I running?
How could he do that?
But mostly, it was just running. My thoughts couldn't catch up on the speed I kept. I think I ran faster than I ever did before. Then, eventually, I stopped. But as soon as I did I regretted it, cause that where when everything catched up on me. My throat ached from the sudden exercise and my chest heaved up and down, panic spreading out like broken glass inside my head. I leaned against a wall and closed my eyes. Tears sprickled down on my cheeks and warmed my cold face a little. I hadn't even taken a look around.
After five minutes of trying to collect myself, I opened my eyes. I had never been to this place before, but it looked exactly like on the street where I lived, except it was somewhat trashier and there were hoboes nearly everywhere.
Someone poked on my shoulder.
"Whats a fine guurrl like ya doin 'ere?" one of the hoboes asked, obviously drunk.
I stared up on his face, which was decorated by a toothless smile and limp eyes. Without answering, I started walking away from him. I had to go back to that place. That place that I should call home. But is hell really home? Okay, I'd lived there for a few years... But it wasn't my home, it was my hell. And it wasn't fucking comforting at all to go back there.

Well at home my dad had passed out on the couch. I sighed in relief. This whole scene had been playing again and again, too many times. He'd touch me in indecent places and I would either go inside my room or take the bus to Frans mom's place. Running was a new thing for me. I thought I'd never stop.
I sneaked into my room silently, not even looking to his direction. I lay down on my bed and looked up in the ceiling, with feelings swirling around in every ounce of my body. It used to feel sore and exhausted, but today was different. Even though my dad had acted like an asshole, I felt comforted because of... This may sound corny but, because of that guy in School today. He seemed to be as angry, hurt and sad as I was. The difference between us was that he was beautiful and I wasn't, but I tried not to think about that.
He had his way of walking, I remembered. A little sway on his hips, like a girl, and really thin legs. His whole body was thin. Didn't he eat? I wanted to hug him so badly.
Oh, I couldn't believe what I was thinking! Like a highschool cheerleader, crushing on some jock!
But... if it was like that I'd probably already fucked him and called my friends to brag about it, so... It couldn't be exactly like that. These emotions where real. They where realer than real. I smiled to myself. Smiled? Wow. I did many new things today. I smiled again before I fell asleep.

"Dear diary,
I'm thinking about the guy in School all the time. I think I know where I recognize him from now... I think he's the angel from my dream, just in real life so he looks pretty much normal. I always thought he felt personal, but like this? Was he really my saviour? I can almost feel his presence when I sleep, when I feel Evil Angel hug me. I always have my back against him in my dream, with his arms around me. It makes me feel safe, but I want to see his face. Will that ever happen?
Fran came home again yesterday. She sleeps in my room all the time now, I want to have her under my supervison.. Just so dad can't touch her without me knowing about it. It feels good to have someone else in my bedroom. I feel safer and a little comforted. The only bad thing is that I can't cry all night like I use to... Crying is overrated and girlish, I should really stop it now.
/Jane."

Days passed and every time I saw Evil Angel in the corridors he was either with some jocks, pushing him around or alone in a corner, deep into his own thougths. Sometimes I just stood there watching him. Figuring if I should or shouldn't sit down with him and talk. But I always shake my head and leave him be. What could we talk about? I didn't like talking. The weird thing about him was that he didn't seem to see me. That was a new thing for me. Every time I walked around in the corridors it used to feel like everyone had their eyes on me, waiting for me to stumble on my own feet or something. It made me have this stiff, nervous walk and I always walked slowly, one step at a time, so I wouldn't just fall suddenly, give them something to laugh about. With Evil Angel it was different. He didn't see anyone. He was always daydreaming, or at least I thought he was. He was deeply concentrated into I don't know what. Sometimes he sat with a notebook and scrabbled down something in it. His hand moved fast over the blank paper and it felt like he was rushing his own inspiration, like he would forget about whatever he wanted to write/paint down in the notebook.
He gave me inspiration to keep on walking Earth. Maybe he didn't know who I was, except for what everyone else saw me as, but I wanted to know about his every thought and all about his life, even if it would take eternity for me to get that close to me. Now I was pretty much far away from him.
So today, I stood there in front of him again. He didn't mind, I thought. At least I payed him some real attention. And he didn't need to say anything to get it. He simply was alive, and that was what impressed me the most. Another creature that had real emotions, still alive. Wow.
After a while in my own thoughts, studying his every move and smiling at his ruffled up, black hair and the sporadic tweak in his right foot that seemed to come and go in rounds.
Then something happened. He looked up, his eyes met with mine and showed his deep, almost black eyes. His body twitched in surprise by the look of me. Hadn't he noticed me standing there in about half an hour? No.. But now he saw me. We just stood there, with our eyes asking for entrance, to look behind them. But I didn't let him and neither did he.
The whole situation started to feel slightly embarrasing. None of us said a word and now it was him that looked at me the same way that I had watched him. I hated attention, but I still didn't move. I let him see my flaws. But I didn't look into his eyes anymore. They where still filled with anger, but not with the same hatred like they had before. They had some sort of soft edge this time. Maybe because he... didn't hate me? The thought made me feel dizzy. The only one that loved me was Fran, and now he sat there liking me? It was so unreal. The feelings in my chest felt like a knife going right in there. Okay, maybe that seemed strange, that I felt so wrong against his whole "liking"-thing, but I wasn't used to it. I had known about his existence in a week now, and I had said I had said seven words to him.
"GET THE FUCK OFF ME!"
Oh my God. Easy, Jane.
"It's okay."
Pff. It wasn't okay.Not in the nearest, but I didn't want him to worry about him. And now he liked me. It was pretty ironic. By now I adored him, worshiped his every step. And suddenly he returned the feelings. Maybe not as strong as I did, but... he gave me some sort of emotion anyway, and it wasn't negative. I knew that I wasn't loveble, or even likeble.. But... wow, was I totally off track here? Didn't he like me?
"What's your name?"
The question made my mind stop racing and I just stared at him. He had spoke. His deep voice had just broke our personal silence and let our emotions out on the surface so I fell back into reality. And now I couldn't find the words. Hell, I couldn't even remember my own name. Before I got the chance to answer I felt someone drag me by the arm.
"Come on, Jane!" Rebecca whined. "We're having class."
I just looked at him. At least now he knew my name. I didn't let my eyes go of him. He watched me too. There was something between us... Whatever it was I liked it. Something that I didn't need any questions or reassurance to feel safe in. He was there for me. I could see it. He didn't smile and wave like an idiot, he just looked at me.
And that was what I respected so much about him. He didn't make things weirder than they already where.

There wasn't anything more attractive than going to School every day and just look at a boy with fire in his eyes as soon as he sees you, and start to write down in his notebook like you where the only inspiration he needed to whatever wrote. Nowadays I sat down in front of him, because I couldn't just stand there, like I was about to leave. Today he touched my face. He took his hand and brushed it over my nose, lips and chin. I closed my eyes as he did. That was the greates affection I've felt in my entire life. He let his indexfinger caress the lining of my eyebrows. I shivered a bit when he blew cold air onto my face. Then I realised that I was crying. Everything went on so fast. I hadn't even had a normal conversation with him and now I let him touch me like no other ever had. He stroke my cheek soothingly and when I opened my eyes he sat there smiling. It wasn't a smile of pity or relief, it was just a genuine smile, telling me that he was happy around me. I couldn't smile back, and I wasn't going to force myself to it. I just looked down in my lap and sniffed a little. The tears had stopped running but the aftershock still shaked my body. This was... strange. It was the first time I cried without feeling like a loser, I just felt happy and relieved. He wanted me to sit there with him.
But happiness doesn't last long, does it? Not in my life. A minute later someone threw a milkshake on my head and kicked me right into his arms.
"Mr and Mrs Emooo!" people yelled, laughing and I could here the clapping soung of a high-five.
The slimy liquid ran down in my hair and in his lap.
"I'm s-sorry", I stuttered and stood up.
I was about to go home when he stood up too and took a hold of my arm.
"Wait", he spoke. "I..."
I waited. I wasn't in a rush, he could take the time he needed.
"I'm Benjamin."
I grinned and shook his hand.
"I'm Jane."
We watched eachother a little while. Was this... a new friendship? Was this a start of something compeletly different from my before life? I didn't know, and I certainly didn't care for now. This was just us, Jane and Benjamin. And we had finally found eachother. The scene would be compeletly beautiful if I hadn't have milkshake dripping from my hair and if Benjamin hadn't have the smeary gross liquid splattered onto his lap so it looked like he just pissed in his pants... It made me smile a little inwardly.