Heart5

           The boy sat by himself outside when he ate as always. He was crying, remembering what he said ten times every second. "Need a chin up?" a familiar voice asks.
            She smiled next to him. "How did you get here?" he whispered in a calm voice. He did not look at her.
            "I followed Angel after he got some groceries," the girl answered. "He told me not to tell you he was involved." She smiled at him. The girl appeared less dejected than before.. Her hair was styled and clothes appeared to match.
             "Is your brother alright?" the boy asked her.
             "He is," she answered. "Thank you for your-"
             "Did you put in an offering?" the boy asked abruptly. The girl looked puzzled. "The box near the doorman. You're supposed to give an offering to God in it."
             "I forgot to bring money, when I followed Angel."
            The boy smiled. "Everyone always seems to think it is money. Which currency do you think God uses?"
            The girl tried to think of an answer.   The girl looked down and prayed. The boy looked up to respect the girl's privacy.
            "And thank you for your help in the park," the girl said.
            "I always respected a nice walk. How can someone have freedom without a walk?"
           "Freedom?... " the girl wondered. "So you live by yourself in your own house and everything?"
           "Yeah..." the boy answered laconicly. He answered almost facing the girl.
           "Sounds cool! I guess...," the girl tried to be more silent. "Sorry about yelling at you before...,"
           "And calling me a freak? I guess I'm a superfreak now huh?" the boy jokes without changing his tone.
           The girl has no problem giving a laugh for the joke though. "Well that and the fact that you were in a hospital for weeks..." the girl did not laugh this time. "So I guess it really most have hurt you emotionally huh? You went in there with a bunch of people who know who you are and then just yelled at them like nothing."
           The boy quickly rushed in with an emotional response. "THEY DON'T KNOW ME!-" the boy yelled out. The boy then takes in a deep breath. "... and they don't know who I am...." The boy looks at the floor.
           "You seem to have no problem expressing yourself..."
           "Actually, to be more accurate: I have no problem with venting out bad emotions. Emotions that could damage people and I, of course, will care less. And it will be the biggest miracle, if people listen to me, even if a whole bunch of loud, emotional garbage hits them like a dumpster.." the boy took another deep breath and looked at the girl. "I guess it doesn't really matter if people know me or not... They'll be happy and I'll be whatever this is... This mix of blood...."
           "Don't worry. I know how it feels to be alone...," the girl stated. "I know how it feels to be listened to also, of course..."
           "Tell me about it someday. Sounds like a very long story..."
           The girl stands up. "I guess it is...," the girl stares the morning sky.
            "I never said I wouldn't listen to it you know?" the boy laughs and stands up next to the girl.
            However, this was the girl's time to be sad again. "Freak..."
            "I never said it had to be now either." The boy stared the other way and let the girl vent her emotions as he had. The boy opened the door that led back inside the church.
            "Why is it that you and your parents don't get along?" the girl asked before the boy could leave.
            "That my dear," the boy started. ".. is my life story..." the boy smiles with a joyful smile on his face before he leaves.

              "Son...- " the parents started as the boy walked from the stairway. "What were you talking to the girl about?"
               "You, of course, and how you keep making my life worse," the boy responded before loudly throwing his trash into the waste disposal unit. No one interfered in the conversation between the boy and his parents. "Oh and by the way, why was she escorted by our bodyguards and what was done about her?"
               "We sent more men in to help dissolve the situation in the park," the parents quickly answered as if it was written on a cue card.
              "Messing up stuff as usual, I see..." the boy said, while walking away. Was it actually me, who made her change or did my parents do something? I hate being set up with prostitutes.... Sorry, God. I'll pray over that in the church ASAP, but you know what I mean....- blind dates. Oh well... Better fix the situation's situation then...Oh well. At least, she actually questioned me about my parents and me....

BACK

        The next Sunday morning, the boy went to church again.
          "......."
          Good thing I checked the schedules... the boy thought to himself.
          The boy raised his hand during the beginning of the service. It was quite odd, since most people never volunteered to serve at the altar, but the boy raised his hand.
          He silently and slowly walked up to the altar. The mother clapped her hands, while the father tried to stop her. The boy sighed. "Good morning, brothers and sisters," the boy began. People began to smile. "As you all know I was in a very scary position last week. I was struck by a car. Boy, it hurts...," he smiled and people started laughing. "Not that I got hit by a car. Physical pain is not what hurts us in this world. It was emotional pain," People started to have his full attention. "No one was there to comfort me. Sure, you all might have prayed, but the fact was I was in a bed for weeks struggling to live. No gifts. No visits. Nothing. Just a 'hope he lives' deal." The auditorium was silent. "However, I was not alone. I recieved something I had not recieved before the incident- freedom from my own parents. I knew somebody was there to give me a present. It was not my psychologist, my doctor, my lawyer, or anyone who was getting paid by this. It was a miracle giver...," People were crying at the boy's words. "It was Santa Claus....," the boy said, while his smile turned into a grimace. "Merry X-mas and a happy A-Men to you all," the boy said. He held his heart in pain saying those words before he sat down. The parents scowled at him in anger.
          On the communion line, people took one step farther away from the boy than usual.
          "You're testing your own heart!" the father yelled at him.
          "Are you trying to kill yourself?!" the mother joined in.