[S] His Name

Hi! Lynden25 here! I'm still nervous lol! But here goes!! So I decided to share to you some of my drabbles back in my high school days. However this first one may count as a short story. I've done this as a project and I just felt so connected to it. Hope you like it! :)

It was the first day of my senior high. I was nervous, since my family just got here a few days ago. We were totally unfamiliar with the place and we literally have to go back to square one: a new place to stay, a new job, a new neighborhood and especially me finding a new school to attend. I looked around, and I saw everyone in groups chatting, maybe about a movie they watched recently or maybe they're talking about me. Wow, what a crazy idea. I sighed.

I found an empty bench and I sat there, dumbfounded. I'm not bold enough to approach someone or some group I don't even know. A few minutes later, in the corner of my eye, I saw a person sit beside me, I mean, sit at the other side of the bench and started rummaging his bag. What I noticed was the sketch pad being pulled out. So he likes to draw.

He didn't even shot a glance at me, he just started. Am I really that unnoticeable? That stung a little. I'm not even doing anything to approach a single person so I guess I deserve that. I just leave him alone and stare aimlessly at students walking here and there.

Scribble, scribble. Scribble, scribble. That was the only sound I could hear while the two of us sat.

Scribble. Pause. Scribble, scribble. Pause. I made a side glance. The man stopped. My eyes widened and I quickly turned my head away from the man. Then I heard him continuing his work again. Due to my growing curiosity, I stared at him again. So fast! The once blank page is now full of different shades of black. I can't see it clearly, but I am certain that it's a great work of art. I haven't realized that I already went close to the man and was blatantly watching him. It made him stop and look at me with wide eyes. I am sure I was doing the same thing.

Seconds later, I realized what I have done and quickly apologized, repeating it again and again, unaware of the fact that I hav closed my eyes. When I realized and decided to open them, he's already gone. It made my brows furrow. That was... Rude. But, I want to see the finished work of his.

A week later, I was slowly but surely getting accustomed to the place we're in. I got to meet a few people - some of them became my friends, but I still haven't seen the man with the talented hand. I tried going back everyday to the bench where I first and last saw him, but there's no sign of him there. I decided that this will be the last time I'll try getting to know him and give up. I sat at the bench again, staring aimlessly at the sky since there were no students at that time of day. I eventually closed my eyes and breathed slowly. It came out as a yawn after which made me laugh at myself.

Then I heard that familiar sound, joined with a small hint of laughter. I turned my head and recognized him - Mr. Evanesce; the name I came up for him a few days after his disappearance - drawing with the same sketch pad, and the same posture. But, this time, with a seeming smile on his face.

I called him by the nickname I made, and he looked at me with confusion. I awkwardly explained to him why I called him that, but his confusion just became more evident in his face, countering my explanation: "I have my own name, why make another one for me? That would make me 'somebody else', not 'me'."

I got confused at what he said. Having a nickname won't make him somebody else that quickly, right?

"Then, what is your name?" I asked him wearily, not sure if asking is the right choice to make. He was silent for a second while he stared at me blankly, though I'm not sure if he's really looking at me or not. I waited, hoping for an answer, but he suddenly continued what he was drawing.

That made me confused even more. I tried looking at his sketch pad, but it was covered by his left arm and he was crouching like he doesn't want his work to be seen. That stung, just like what happened before. I sighed and I just relaxed myself while waiting for him to finish. I made myself think that he doesn't want to be distracted.

Scribble, scribble. Pause. Scribble, scribble. That was the only sound I could hear while the two of us sat. It seems like we're having a déjà vu. But I still waited. One minute. Two minutes. There was a long pause, so I take that he is already finished and I started stretching my arms. He tugged at the hem of my shirt so I turned. My eyes widened. I saw myself staring at me. It was slowly dragged down, and I caight sight of the man who drew the portrait. He was smiling, and he was pointing at something.

I followed the direction where his index finger was pointing to, and a smile slowly crept to my lips.

This, waiting. It's not so bad after all.