All the Lonely People

July 12, 2012
I let the heat of the sun warm my face; it was such a beautiful August day in Colorado. I opened my eyes and took it all in. I found myself staring down at the football team running around and tackling each other. I lifted my digital SLR camera to my eye as I pushed my black framed sunglasses up onto my forehead; all I needed was one more picture of practice to finish the draft of the football page in the yearbook. I picked up my Baritone case off the bleachers and made my way down to the sidelines. I walked with my long brown braids and my camera bouncing gently against my chest. I watched as they ran and tackled each other over and over, trying to perfect it. At the bottom of the bleachers I turned to walk towards the parking lot and through the parking lot to the edge of the high school campus. I pulled a cigarette out of the pack in my bag, dug my lighter out of my bag and sat down on top of my Baritone case as I lit up the cigarette. I sat alone and thought through my day so far and about whether or not I should start walking home or go beg my neighbor for a ride. I decided to walk. I put out the butt of the cigarette and picked up my baritone, as I started my mile and a half walk home. What did my neighbor care? I mean he gives me rides a lot and usually refuses to let me walk, but I don’t need him. He doesn’t care.

I saw his white Chevy drive past me and stop a block ahead with his best friend Max in the front seat; I crossed the street and continued walking alone. He rolled down the window and shouted at me, “Eleanor! Would you like a ride?” I sighed, “No thank you, Jude. I’ll be fine walking.” He sighed and continued driving home with Max in the passenger seat rather than me. Oh well, what does he care?

She had been walking with her drumsticks about to fall out of her back pocket, her white Revolver shirt fitting her perfectly; I looked at my best friend in the passenger seat of my old Chevy. I wished she was in between us on the bench seat. I stopped a block ahead but she crossed the street to avoid me. I offered her a ride, she denied me. I just continued driving home. I’d see her at home anyways; we live right next door to each other. I had always admired Eleanor, she was pretty, and smart and talented but she never talked to anyone. I would watch her sit in her back yard and play one of her guitars and sing. She had a beautiful voice.

I stared at myself in my bathroom mirror, my ugly brown eyes, shaggy black hair. I tugged on the bottom of my baggy hand me down Pink Floyd shirt. I was nothing but un-worthy of Eleanor. I left my bathroom and flopped down on my bed. I stared at my pocket knife on my dresser and thought about old habits. I stared at the scars on my wrists. I dropped down to my floor, my knees at my chest and I just cried.

I watched Jude spend another hopeless day chasing Eleanor. We pulled over and offered her a ride, however hesitantly; she denied it, knowing she’d either be stuck between us on the bench seat or awkwardly next to me. I knew Eleanor liked me. I knew Jude was in love with her. Jude dropped me at home and then continued home. I saw Eleanor pass my house, her baritone in hand. I had seen the blisters on her hands from the case today; I had seen the pack of smokes fall out of her bag. And then there was the blade I pretended not to see fall out of the back of her phone. I had a feeling I knew, but I wasn’t sure. She and I were pretty good friends. My ex-girlfriend, Jayne used to be her best friend, maybe I should text her.

I stared at myself; I had sandy brown hair and hazel eyes. I was very plain looking I have no idea why Eleanor likes me. She’s more of a looker than me. Her long brown hair, usually in braids, and her sparkling blue eyes, every time I see the sun hit her eyes in marching band they remind me of a kaleidoscope, then she catches me staring into them and puts her dark sunglasses on so I can’t look anymore. I wandered back to my room and sat on my bed with my book and waited for Jude to start ranting about Eleanor again. But today there was no text from Jude, it was from Eleanor. She asked me to come hang out. I stared at my phone for a second before I replied that I’d be there in 20 mins. I got up, left a note on the counter for my mom, and then left for her house.

When Max got to my house I was out back playing my blue guitar I had dubbed Robin. He smiled awkwardly, and I returned the awkward smile. I hadn’t seen Jude all afternoon and neither had he so we figured we could hang out. I wandered back to my chair and he took a swig of my spiked Mtn. Dew and started coughing. I apologized and ran to get him some water. When I came back out he had Robin in his lap trying to play. I laughed and went to rescue my guitar. He pushed me away and insisted I teach him. I turned to go get my second guitar, Billy, but he stopped me again. I came up behind him to help with fingers. I gently placed my hand on his and positioned him to play one of the three basic rock n roll chords. This continued on for a while with my braids falling over onto his chest and getting in the way. We laughed and went through guitar stuff all night. I had eventually gotten Billy and we started playing some simple songs together, laughing and singing.

I had heard her guitar and then I heard her gate open. I looked out the window that faced her back yard. Max was over there with her. How could he. I watched out my window as they laughed and played and joked around all night, they kept getting closer and closer to each other. I watched as my best friend and the girl of my dreams slowly fell for each other. I cried harder on my floor. I had made my decision the second I watched Max lean in and gently kiss Eleanor. I wandered back to my bathroom with my knife, a note for them, and I stared at myself in the mirror. My eyes were red and puffy and my cheeks were tear stained. I took the knife and dug deep into my arms again, deeper than before. I sat for an hour or so crying harder and bleeding before I blacked out and smacked my head on the tub. Goodbye, Eleanor.

Eleanor and I stood next to each other at the funeral for our best friend, Jude. He had blamed us in his suicide note. We both assumed he would want us to be happy, we were wrong. He witnessed the whole night when Eleanor and I decided to get together. He finally wanted to die when we sealed the deal with a kiss. We stood at the grave as the lowered his dead body into the ground. I felt Eleanor squeeze my hand as her tiny body was racked with a new wave of sobs. I held her as she cried into my shoulder.

We got back and were sitting in my back yard; we each had a bottle and were blind drunk. We both missed Jude. Finally Eleanor’s mom called and said she had to be home soon. Stupidly we got into the car and I drove her home.

Jude’s Chevy saved our lives. I had swerved into the oncoming lane and a giant black pickup came screaming at us. We heard the car crunch around us and the world went black. I swear I saw Jude one last time. He was there in that car with us, he was our guardian angel and he had saved our lives when we did nothing but make him want to end his. Jude was a true friend.

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half.noteThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. said...
Sept. 16, 2012 at 10:15 am
  A great message, and good writing. :) But perhaps it should have been Eleanor who said that last line.   Anyways, this is based off Beatles' songs, isn't it? "All the Lonely People" is from Eleanor Rigby, as well as Eleanor's name. Maxwell is from Maxwell Silver Hammer, and Jude is from Hey Jude.   Anyways, There could be a few minor improvements, but overall I really liked it. Good job! :D
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