You Make The Pain Fade Away

Chapter Ten

It was three in the morning when I heard a truck zoom in. I watched from my bedroom window. Trying to get a glimpse of who it was. For some odd reason, I already knew who it was.

It was pitch dark and I could barely discern what was outside. I turned off my a/c, trying to listen.

I unsuccessfully captured any clue of what was occurring outside.

I had a feeling it was John.

I should try getting some sleep and maybe the mysterious truck will banish by morning.

No. You should go see what is out there! What if it's John and he needs somewhere to stay?

I don't care about John, I mentally argued with myself.

I inwardly sigh, giving up. Apparently, curiosity will always win. 

I slipped into my black Hollister hoodie and shove my feet into my white vans. 

Why white? Because that was the first thing I found and I am too lazy to find another pair. 

I tip toed out of my room and noiselessly went down the stairs. Almost tripping twice. I successfully reached the front porch, pausing. There was no one outside. The red truck was parked right where I had seen it. So, where is John?

I hold my breath, silently walking outside.

The crickets were singing relentlessly, which agitated me. I ambled towards the truck. The breeze was cool, creating goose bumps on my exposed legs. 

"If you started drinking, still can't stop thinking, about all those long nights alone," he sang aloud. I froze at the spot, wanting to hear more. I had to admit, he sounded amazing. My feet had a mind of it's own, because soon enough I was peering of the back of the truck. 

He was laying down, his hands were being used as a pillow as he stared up at the sky. I caught my breath. He send me a bitter glare and he was... blushing. I couldn't suppressed the smile. 

"What are ya doing here?" he growled. 

"I should be asking you that. What are you doing here?" 

"I asked ya first," he snapped, staring back at the sky. A few minutes passed and I was beginning to get anxious. 

"John," I began. 

"I lied," he mumbled simply. I frowned and quirked an eyebrow up. Lied about what? What is he talking about?

"About what?" I questioned in bewilderment.

"My mom hasn't let me back in the house. I was sneaking in, but.. yeah," he trailed off, leaving me with an affirmed conclusion. His mom kicked him out again. 

"You should've stayed here!" 

"I don't want to be in ya way." 

"You're not!," I said disbelievingly, "Why are you so stupid?" 

"Why are ya up, anyways? Isn't past ya bedtime, young lady?" he smirked, glancing at me with a cold gaze. 

"I couldn't sleep," I confessed the oblivious, staring out in the distance.

"I'm going back inside," I told him. " The guest room is open for you."

"No! Don't leave me," he sid quickly. I locked eyes with him. I knew what he was going through. The hated feeling of being alone. Alone with no one else to share your thoughts. I felt that. Every night in my room when I can't sink into a sleep. All I do is think of things I prefer to not think about. Things that get me emotional and gloomily.