The Boy Without A Name

Chapter Sixteen

"Sleepless Nights, Sleepless Nights,

Like a lullaby, you come over and set me free from these dreary sights,

Where I dream a little dream of you,

Too lost in this love-hue,

Only to find myself anew,

Stuck in daydreams reflected in sugary drops of dew,

As you draw me in and colour me blue,

Sleepless Nights, Sleepless Nights,

Chiming in like some northern lights,

Heavenly sites of paradise,

I drift off to see a world vice,

Made from our love imprecise,

You have played with me like some dice,

Restless nights by your hand render me to be,

A little lovesick, a little carefree,

Escaping like some bee,

I sit now in glee, waiting to float and flee."

Emmett wistfully stared at the words that he had just penned, feeling vehemently impassioned at the prospect of seeing him again. He was getting rather impatient, quite agitated and antsy due to something that he had no control over. He exhaled at the thought, whilst apprehensively running his hands through his dark tresses, thinking of reasons to assuage himself of this deplorable sentiment that had slowly empowered his senses like some fierce fire, consuming the essence of the naive moth by deceptive assertations, and some deceitful consolations. Probing and piercing his mind's fuelled fury into more subtle reasoning, his heart thumped outrageously yet fluttered fluently, at the prospect of falling in love. Love, surely he couldn't love him, he analysed. He was simply too broken to love and to be loved, he deduced disparaged at the mere mention of the aforementioned emotion, seemingly discouraged and degradingly critical at the idea of love.

Love, Emmett mused, what was love, but a complicated simpleton? An entrancing, enrapturing figment of imagination, winsomely enticing to the eye and the soul, like some confectionary, the process from a sweetened tooth to the scornful indignation mingled with only passion and ire, a hail storm abridging the chaotic seashores with some barbed wire of sleet and ice, held in dismay and in the pure delight of what it could never be, what was love but the enigma for the fools? What was love but a channel between the heartbreak city and the seventh heaven of dreams? What was love but a tragedy immersed in the ashes of the once beating heart?

Emmett picked up his phone and exhaled dramatically at the blank screen; his phone's battery was done for, and he was feeling somewhat helpless. Maybe, he could visit Gloria's Diner and make himself scarce? He could possibly request that from them since he was sure of Gwen's rage and possible anger at his tardiness since her wrath was quite fearsome, it was quite instinctive on his part as he glanced at his watch and looked at the time, only to feel a bit deflated for some undefined reason. Great, it was half-past eight, and the Sun was still beaming at him, he shook his head rather despondently, before following the trail that leads towards the park's exit, whilst absently tugging at his denim jacket, as he fixed his much disordered and dishevelled hair, slowly making his way towards that diner.

After walking for approximately ten minutes, Emmett almost looked relieved at the sight of the restaurant, as he briskly entered into the establishment, determined to make that phone call. As soon as he saw someone familiar, he swiftly approached them.

"Excuse me?" He called out.

"Yes, how may I help you?" The boy turned around to face him with a welcoming smile.

"I wanted to make a phone call since my phone's battery is literally dead, may I use your phone? It is quite urgent and I do not know what to do than to come here and seek for help." Emmett requested, eyes fuming with urgency.

"Sure, here you go, mate." The boy agreed, instantaneously, handing him the device.

"Thank you so much and may I talk somewhere in private?" Emmett asked.

"Yes, there's a backroom, it is pretty much empty, so ya can go there to talk." He elaborated, pointing towards the direction of the room.

"Great, thank you again," Emmett stated, already making his way towards the aforementioned room.

"Happy to be of some help!" He responded.

Emmett offered him a soft smile in return, as he patiently waited for her to pick up his phone, a bit distraught when she hadn't picked it up in the first place.

"Gwen?" Emmett inquired.

"Em? Is that you?" She asked although Emmett couldn't clearly hear her.

"Gwen, I cannot hear you, where are you?" He asked again, concentrating on her voice.

"I am in the metro, the signal's a bit dingy here. Do you have any idea how brainsick I have been because of you?" She exclaimed.

"I know, but the thing is that my phone...it kind of broke and I-" Emmett began.

"Excuses, Em. You have always been too good at making them, lad. Listen, I have to go, I cannot talk right now." Gwen urged.

"Gwen, please. Just listen to me, I am sorry for being the cause of your concern but I need you, I need my best friend right now and I miss you, does that not mean anything to you?" He pleaded, hoping to make her understand the value of their friendship.

"No, Em. It doesn't mean anything, you could've tried to talk to me, you could've borrowed someone's phone the instant you had found it to be broken, but you did not choose to, and you know exactly why that is, Emmett. I was worried but then I talked to Tom, and he has no idea, does he? What have you done, Em? Do you have any idea?" She demanded furiously.

"Gwen, please. Listen to me for a second-" Emmett tried to say something, anything to make her understand his point.

"I can't. You have me fooled with what you suppose to be your weakness, Emmett Anderson. It has always been too clear, you have never cared for me, have you? I have never been your priority, and I never will be. Goodbye!" Gwen declared, on the verge of tearing up.

"Gwen," Emmett called out to her.

"No Emmett, do not call me until you've realised your mistake. I cannot always forgive you for your trespasses, you have to learn it the hard way, this time." She described before abruptly cutting him off.

Teary-eyed, Emmett could only squint at the phone, mostly melancholic and mournful of a loss that he couldn't ever reinstate. Remorse, like a divulging discharge from a densely demarcated river bed, seeped through the scorched and smelted embers of some magnified lava, formidably gnawing at his heartbeat, fusing it with his mainstream, reeling him in an unfathomable pain, that he had to clutch his shirt in agony, whilst supporting himself to stand and walk towards the door. It was indescribable, her words cut through him, charring away at his mind as he had never thought in his wildest of dreams.

Discreetly, Emmett made his way towards the park, staggering and stumbling all the while clenching his shirt in torment, absurdly walking like some crazed maniac on the sidewalk of this broken boulevard that he had the misfortune to step upon, woefully plunging himself in the profound abyss of his shattered hopes. He was surely walking with half a heart, skipping away in some fit of rage without a piece of his soul, as numbness poked at his overwhelmed emotions, mellifluously silencing the specks of his inner distress with some repellent that he had no idea about, making him feel nothing.

Nothing, he repeated in his mind as he approached his bench, it was sometimes good to feel nothing, he had deduced, looking afar with a forlorn look.

"Nothing."

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