Date: Sat, 3 Feb 2007 00:02:52 -0800 (PST) From: Nifty Writer Justin Subject: Against All Odds 1 This story is pure fiction, something created solely in my mind. Any comments, feedback, or suggestion are welcomed. Hate-mail is ignored. If you like this story and want to hear more, e-mail me at: niftywriterjustin@yahoo.com ****************************************************************************** "Through rain or snow or sleet or rain..." That is the creed of the United States Postal Service. However, some could say it is the creed of love. Love happens all the time, regardless of any situation. Sometimes you can control it and sometimes you can't, but for the most part, you have no control over love and what it decides to do. It really can be your best friend or your worst enemy. This story is about how unpredictable love can be, how it can break down even the strongest man and give strength to the weakest. All in all, love does pretty crazy things, but it always has the best intentions deep down inside. ****************************************************************************** I absolutely love scary movies. The intensity, the feeling of your heart beating inside your chest as you watch wide-eyed the movie, the passion you have to scream at how idiotic the people are. This movie had me captivated and I was completely focused on the action in front of me - my chest heaving, my heart thumping against my rib cage, my forehead dotted with sweat. DING DONG! "Holy shit!" At the sound of the doorbell, I screamed probably the loudest I ever have in my life. I flipped off the couch and ended up flat on my back on the floor. Thank goodness no one was around to see that. I looked up at the clock. "12:37 a.m." Who on Earth would be at my door at almost a quarter till one in the morning? I got up from the floor and peaked around the corner; I really was afraid someone with a butcher knife was waiting for me on the other side of the wall - I really do watch too many scary movies. I saw through the wet glass plane of the front door someone was standing out there. I still had no idea who would be outside at almost one in the morning in the rain. It had rained almost all day, one of those Saturdays where you just sit at home and relax because it is too depressing to go outside. All through my mind, I imagined what would happen when I opened that door: someone would grab me and kidnap me; I would get knifed by a psycho; someone coming to rob my house. I approached the door and grabbed a golf club from the hall closet. I may be 18, but I still have to protect myself! I cautiously approached the door and turned the handle, raising the golf club high above my head. I had never hit someone with the intent to seriously injure or kill before, so I was shaking like a leaf. The door began to open and someone began to appear. A familiar figure began to appear, someone I had seen all the time, someone who meant a lot to me, someone who would change my life forever from that point on. "Vince!" This boy, almost a man now, looked at me with the saddest eyes I had ever seen. He was soaking wet, shivering, and looked as if he just saw everyone he ever loved die in front of him. He didn't say a word, just stood there with that expression that made me feel cold and depressed inside. "Get in here!" I grabbed him and pulled him in. I was still in shock about opening the door and seeing someone I have gone to school with for five year, someone I call a friend, standing outside my door in the middle of the night. I ran into the closest bathroom and come back with towels, wrapping them around him. It was chilly outside, so coupled with the rain, he had to be freezing. "What are you doing here, Vince?" I really wasn't expecting an answer, because he looked in shock. I really had no idea how to respond to this situation, but he was my friend, and I had to help him. I shook my head at the silent response he gave me and almost literally dragged him upstairs. "Here, you need to take a shower and get warmed up. Go in there and shower and I'll leave you some clothes and go fix you food. Maybe then you will talk to me." He just looked at me, nodded, and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. I went into my room and grabbed some clothes I figured Vince could fit into. I opened the bathroom door and placed the clothes on the counter. I yelled over the sound of the water that I had left clothes there, but got no response. With that, I headed downstairs and heated up some leftovers, placing them at one end of the table and sat down at the other end, waiting patiently for the guest of honor to arrive. Vince came downstairs about ten minutes later, dressed in my clothes, freshly showered, but still looking as depressed as the moment I opened my front door. He sat down and scarfed the food I had there, and within mere moments, sat back with a subtle look of pleasure across his face. He looked over at me and we just sat there in silence, boring holes in each other's eyes. Any conversation I tried to start was met with silence, so I just gave up. "Fine. If you won't talk to me, then you can go to bed. You can sleep in one of the extra rooms." He followed me upstairs and I showed him where he was sleeping, in the spare bedroom closest to my own room. Without saying a word to me, he walked inside and closed the door behind him. I stood there for a few moments until I saw the light turn off. After that, I walked back into my room and sat down on the bed. Vince, the charismatic, fun, talkative guy I had known for so long, was now sullen, depressed, and silent. I had no idea what had happened, how he ended up at my house, or what was wrong. And for the first time in a long time, I sat there and cried.