As I brush my long, brown hair out of my face, I listen closely to a familiar song that plays through the air beautifully like a leaf blowing in the wind. Now what could be making that sound? Who could be singing such a beautiful song at this time?
I finish drinking the rest of my coffee, pack my book in my bag, get up, and decide to follow the source of the music. I cup my ear and listen closer; The sound of a keyboard plays through the night. I can just barely make out the lyrics; If you must wait, wait for them here in my arms as I shake. If you must weep, do it right here in my arms as I sleep. Obviously the man singing is very talented - he's putting so much emotion into the words. That, I can admire.
I start walking faster, trying to find the source of the music when I finally spot him. The man I knew would be my next victim. His eyes are shining like emeralds underneath the bright moon. But they shine with profound emotion and hidden secrets that have been locked away for years. His hair is thick and shines a milky-brown color. He wears a simple, long-sleeved, red flannel button-up over a grey shirt with dark jeans. He's playing a keytar while singing; a brown hat sits next to him on the ground filled with cash.
I walk up to him and stand in front of him, a smile painted on my face. After he's finished singing the song, I clap and put a five dollar bill in the hat.
"I loved that song as a child. 'You' by Keaton Henson, correct?" I ask him, trying to make my voice come across as friendly.
"Yeah! I didn't think anyone would recognize that song!" The man says joyfully, his voice deep and gravelly.
"Well, you're in luck," I say with a smile. "My name is Holly Love. And you are?"
The man sticks his hand out for me to shake. I do so and he says; "I'm Sam Butler. It's nice to meet you, ma'am!"
"Same to you, sir," I respond. "So, Sam, have you always been that talented?"
Sam laughs, "thanks. My father taught me how to play. He gave me his keytar before he passed away about a month ago. I'm trying to raise money so I can take care of my little sister, Kimmy."
"Oh, really?" I say, suddenly reconsidering my decision from earlier. "How sweet of you! I had an older brother, Henry, who served in the military. He passed away a few years ago."
"That must have been awful. I know it's been awful for me with my dad gone," Sam explains, a pained expression upon his face.
"It was. But you'll eventually learn to deal with it, you know? But that's not what you want to hear, now is it?" I say. "I suppose you won't mind me asking how your father died?"
"I don't mind. He lost a fight with cancer...," Sam tells me. Judging by the look on his face, I can tell he's very uncomfortable.
"I'm so sorry... But let's change the subject, shall we?" I say.
Sam takes out a brown wallet from his pocket and opens it up, taking the money from the hat into his wallet. He puts his wallet away and puts on his hat. "I'd love to chat some more, but I must get back home to Kimmy. It's been nice speaking to you, though! Would you like my number?"
"Oh, um, sure!" I respond, taken by surprise.
He takes my hand and scribbles numbers on it, then signing it with his name and a heart. He looks back up at me and smiles. "Call me anytime!" He puts his keytar away in the case and starts walking down the street. I watch as he disappears into the night, then I follow him, careful to not get too close.
I follow him until he stops in front of a small, brick house. He takes out his keys and I hide behind a bush, slowly making my way closer to his home. Finally, I stay hidden behind some bushes closest to the door. He opens the door and walks in; I stay where I am, but look into the window to see what he does.
I see a girl about eighteen with very long, brown, braided hair and coffee-brown eyes. She must be Kimmy. She looks like she's arguing with Sam.
After about thirty minutes, all of the lights turn off. I wait an extra twenty minutes before pick-locking the door and sneaking in. I look around the house, trying to get used to my surroundings. The TV is on, the volume low. I look on the couches, and sure enough, Sam is sleeping on one couch. Careful not to make any noise, I make my way towards Sam, taking something out of my bag.
Before I can do anything, Sam's voice pipes up; "if you're going to kill me, just do it." I freeze. This has never happened before. "Well?" Sam asks, looking blankly at the TV.
After a few minutes, Sam sighs with frustration and gets up. He looks at me as if he doesn't recognize me, and grabs the knife out of my hand, steadying it and pointing it at his heart. "Should I say bye, or?"
"I, um, wait!" I say, taking the knife from him quickly. "Tell me about why you want to kill yourself..."
Sam looks at me with anger. "You wanted to kill me and now you're stopping me from killing myself? That doesn't make any sense!"
"I know!" I tell him. "Be quiet! I'll explain after you talk to me..."
Sam rolls his eyes. "I'm not about to tell a stranger my entire life story." He lays back down on the couch.
"I'm not a stranger. You don't recognize me?" I ask him.
"Should I?" Sam responds.
"You gave me your phone number earlier. My name is Holly..."
"So... Are you going to tell me or not?" I ask. Sam sits up normally on the couch. I take a seat next to him, putting my knife away in my bag. He begins to tell me about his abusive mother.