Hidden Behind Doors - M. Marconi (best ebook reader ubuntu txt) 📗

As I looked over at him from across the room, I thought he looked as if he shouldn't be here. There was something unique about him I just couldn't figure out. He was different looking in many ways. His eyes suddenly looked up to meet mine which caught me off guard. His gaze sent chills down my spine. I had to look away in fear of him seeing deep into my truthful eyes. I had to shield the lies that my clothes and makeup covered up. I couldn't let him see the real me. The real me wouldn't be allowed to attend a party as formal as this one was. I had to break his gaze before he came over here.
Suddenly a loud noise caught everyone's attention. The noise came from behind the boy. When I turned to look at where the noise was coming from, all heads were turned in the same direction except his. He was still looking at me. I quickly felt my cheeks heat up from embarrassment as he stared at me so intensly. I wasn't sure if he was looking at me or at someone around me, but I didn't want to take the chance.
The crowd became a frenzy for the noise had turned out to be a waitor's apron caught on fire sending the kitchen up in flames. The boy was not running from the flames, but he was walking. He wasn't walking towards the door, but straight to me. I couldn't take my eyes off of him, but I was forced to when some stranger tried to pull me towards the doors for the fire was spreading quickly. I broke the stare and ran towards to door flushed with red and teary-eyed from the smoke filling the air. I knew I couldn't wait and find him for he would see that I was just here, because I snuck in.
For many nights and many days I dreamed about him. I dreamt about how it would be if he accepted who I really was instead of walking out on me like all the others. I imagined he was different from them all. He had stared at me as if he had known something I didn't want others to know. Maybe he knew I hadn't been invited to the party. He couldn't have seen me sneak in, because I climbed in from a window and no one was there. I didn't think that's why he was staring. It had to be another reason. His eyes hadn't been knowing, but they weren't clueless either. He knew something in those eyes of his. His eyes. Oh, his eyes enveloped you. The dark blue streaks mixed in with the light blue speckles that showed you real compassion. They glowed with knowledge and darkened with jealousy.
I looked in the mirror at my haggard appearance. How could he look at me as if I were a princess? This thought ate at me all day. I didn't know why I couldn't stop thinking about him. These thoughts were just vile to me. They were taking over my mind during the day. The kept me awake at night. I tried to push the thoughts away by distracting myself with cleaning. I scrubbed upstairs and downstairs. I mopped the floors in the hall and in the bathrooms. I dusted the dining room and the bedrooms. I vaccumed the living room. I swept the floors of the main entrance. That's all I could do was clean. I had no talents. I just stayed inside all day. I lived with my grandparents in their mansion. They were never home so I basically lived alone.
I was young when my parents died. I always hear stories from my grandparents about how they acted. They always compare the way I do things to the things my mother always did. They said I looked like my father, though. My grandfather said my brown curly hair was my fathers favorite thing about me and my baby blue eyes were what my mother loved. I see pictures of them holding me as a baby, but I don't remember them all that well. My grandparents say they love me very much.
My father had gone to work one day when my mom had stayed home with me as she tried to teach me to say something. I just looked up at her never making a single noise. This always worried her, but she told herself I was just a late bloomer. As she rocks me in her arms the phone rings. She laid me in my satin cradle and went to the phone. She answered the phone and it was my father's job. He hadn't showed up yet and he was an hour and a half late so far. This worried my mother and she said she was going to call him. She hung up the phone as my grandmother walked into the room. My mother filled her in on what the situation was. My grandmother walked over to the tv and turned it on. Sure enough, on every channel it was talking about a Toyota Camry. It was my father's car. It had an impact with a train. The person in the car was rushed to the hospital. He was announced dead on arrival. My mother burst into tears as did my grandmother. My grandfather came downstairs to find out what was happening. He looked at the tv. He went outside and into his car so he could go to the hospital where my father had arrived death at. Later that year my mother had killed herself from the stress. She was a single parent and her parents only helped with watching me occasionally, but nothing more. They found her dead on the front lawns with a knife in her hand and a pool of blood around her. They didn't get to her in time.
As I walk around my house alone I try to imagine being happy inside of it. I try to see my parents walking around kissing each other and hugging me. I can see my mom making me breakfast as I talk to my dad and watch him read the paper. My mother makes my favorite breakfast: two small, buttery pancakes with a couple strips of bacon on the inside. My dad would try to steal the bacon while I peal apart the pancakes slowly. He laughs when I catch him and throw a small piece of pancakes at him.
I tear up thinking about all the happy moments as I sit on the couch. I put my feet up on the table even though I just cleaned it. I want to turn on the tv, but find that the remote is too far away. I just stare at the blank tv. My mind starts to go back to the boy. I start wondering his name. He looked like a Robert. Maybe he was an Eric. Trying to guess his name would be endless. I try to remember the scene of that party aboutt a week ago. He didn't look like he had any friends with him. He wasn't even dressed like everyone else. He wore a t-shirt and nice jeans while everyone else was dressed up, even me.
A loud knock on my door breaks my trance. I get up to see who it is. I open the door and my friend Erica walks in.
"You were a no-show last night at my weekly party," she said as she plops onto my couch.
I slapped my forehead as mentions it.
"Oh no! I forgot all about it! I guess I'll have to go next week," I retorted.
"I sense sarcasm behind that tone."
I laughed. She always managed to get a smile on my face even if it isn't a big smile. She can tell when something isn't right. She was about to turn the tv on when she looked at me and saw the distant look in my eyes.
"What's on your mind," she questioned me.
"Just thinking about my parents. And this very strange guy I met."
"Cute? How old? What's his name."
"I...I don't know."
I knew I had to explain to her what the situation was, but even I couldn't explain it to myself. I explained it to her as easily as I could. The more I spoke, the more it sounded as if I read it somewhere.
She instantly started asking about his looks and features. She knows the majority of people in our little town, but she doesn't recall this strange boy.

Publication Date: 12-01-2011

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Dedication:
To my English teacher who made us write an essay off of vocabualry words. This isn't that exact one, but it's based off of it.