Exist, to Wait

August 8, 2012
By StreetKat SILVER, Hamlin, New York
StreetKat SILVER, Hamlin, New York
9 articles 2 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
V: Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin van-guarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition. The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous. Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it's my very good honor to meet you and you may call me V.
Evey Hammond: Are you like a crazy person?
V: I am quite sure they will say so.

I just simply exist, you may see me in your school, your work, maybe even your home. I am always present in everyone’s life. I exist because somewhere, at any given time, I will be needed by you. For now I wait, I watch. Sitting in the shadows of your bright and sunny world.
I went to school with you, I was that girl that no one paid attention to, who didn't look to make herself apart of the basic routine everyone falls into at some point. I was the girl who no one liked, no one talked to, no one needed around. I would watch, waiting for my turn, for that is my burden, that is all I have to live for.
By the time you were in collage you had met and re-met me time and time again, a collision in the hall, a partner for a class, picking up the same book in the library. Now it is our last year in basic collage, we go to the same one. You are studying in History, you want to be a Professor. I take the same art, history and writing class as you, I want to be a Artist.
Today we are assigned a project, one with a partner which rarely happens in our art class. We are assigned to work together. Our job is to recreate a Greek monument with clay, and write about its history. The project was to be finished in two weeks.
You we're excited, Greek History, something you knew much about. I sat quietly, you talked with your friends about the project, each group had a different thing to do. Lindy, a girl that sat across from you was partnered to John and they had the Italian Renaissance. Lindy also has a crush on you. Johann who sits next to me, was working on art from feudal Japan. She also has a crush on you.
I started sketching while waiting for the conversation to end. A half hour passed before it did, what I had sketched looked like the Olympic grounds that held the traditional games long ago. You we're impressed, you start talking about the Olympics back in the time of the Ancient Greeks. I nod every so often, never speaking. Allowing you to continue what you like to do.
For the next few classes this continues, you would talk, I would quietly work on the project. I truly was interested in what you were saying, but I just chose not to speak, and you noticed too. 'Are you mute?' You ask me and I looked at you. My answer is simple. 'No.' Hearing my voice seemed to satisfy you enough for the rest of the day.
But the next few classes it my one word responses didn't satisfy you. You would ask how my day was, my answer would always be 'Normal.' You would ask what classes I took, I would tell you each one but nothing more. You would ask me about my classes, they we're all 'time consuming.' By now the building of the project was complete, its only been five classes.
We we're painting today, it was Friday, a good day to be outside, there was only a light snow. You we're talking about the snow today. Cheerful as ever and smiling as we painted. 'What do you think of the snow?' You asked me. I answered simply, like I always have, 'it's cold. And wet.' You frowned, and the world seemed to loose its shine. Bit I was simply the only one who noticed, because I was the only one who could.
It was quiet the remainder of this class, and the next, even when we started the writing, in which you had mostly finished, it was quiet. The time to turn in the project came, and we went back to how we were before. But the light that shined bright just for you was now suppressed, at times it would resemble the light that had once shined but it was never the same.
You had started to remember. I was in your class, year after year, always alone, never speaking, just waiting, watching. And you we're starting to do the same. I sat across from you, next to you, in front of you. In art, you would study me, while you thought I wasn't paying attention. When I was paying attention more to my sketchbook than anything else.
In history you noticed I was there, sitting alone at a table for two, next to a window. I would watch the birds cross the sky, the clouds, and through the reflection. You. But now you we're watching me through that same reflection, you ghost eyes met, the light in the room wavered but I was the only one who saw, I looked to the front of the room.
A few more days and you discovered we had English together, we sat next to each other so to speak. There was a desk to my left, no one occupied it, and then there was you. On the wall to your left, was the windows. Often when I looked out them watching the leaves on the trees sway, you would watch me.
It has become a hobby of yours, not an obsession, not yet. The way I thought differed from your mind so much that you wanted to no more.
You started drifting from your friends, Lindy and Johann we're jealous. They also saw you, how u looked at me with wonder. My time was coming closer I could feel it now. All this waiting, watching, what I had been taught to do by the others. The ones just like me, who had similar jobs. Similar experiences. Soon.
You we're heading towards your car, parked only a few away from my own, but that matter was timing, not anything else. I felt the rush of panic run through the air. The parking lot had patches of black ice. The driver, a sophomore by the name of Henry lost control of his SUV, and was going to hit you. This is what I was here for. Time slowed as everyone, even you stared in horror. For me, I was at normal time, but the world around me was slow.
Moving quickly, because this moment wont last long. I moved you out of the way, a few paces in between your car and the truck next to it. It looked as if you had been pushed out of the way. Which it was meant to look like. And that moment ended, I was in your spot. And the SUV hit me. There was pain, but not from the impact itself, that would only leave a small bruise on my skin. But the pain was more, it was emotional pain. Not of my own.
I would be hospitalized, in for the normal human sentence but no human doctor would be caring for me. One of my own kind would be pretending to, though in human perspective I should be dead. My kind, would always be found mixing in with the government. After all we are guardians, we guide the human race in many ways. We are leaders, we are friends, and sometimes lovers to those we watch after. We live, and when we so choose, we die and are reborn, into a new body, to make new memories. Sometimes, if we truly love the human or humans we watch, and protect, they are granted a pardon to live with us for eternity, or we are granted a beating heart, fragile skin, bones.
In the three weeks I have been here. In this white room pretending. The pain I had felt had never stopped. It was not something I yet understood because I was so young. This was the first human I in this body I poses now, was to watch after, to protect and help. So the suffering that comes with each passing has not yet been experienced. I couldn't comprehend it.
On the first day you visited me in the hospital, I realized how dark the world was to you. The moment you laid eyes on me, the room lit up a thousand times brighter than it was when I watched you for all those years. The light blinded me, and I was crying. The pain from my chest became a mixture of emotions that I didn't understand but I didn't care about that.
You we're safe, you we're happy. I went to get up but you was already by my side, holding me, running your fingers through my hair. Whispering kind, sweet words to me. Words that made me feel happy, that I didn't even know I wanted to hear. Something someone who watches would only understand. And you did understand, because for weeks now you had been watching me, waiting for me. I barred my face into your shoulder.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.


MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!