|Hey There Delilah
Author: lenmari PM
A short thing I wrote whilst listening to Hey There Delilah by Plain White T's. Lots of angst, apparently. Deep regrets. Mostly nonsense though.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Angst/Tragedy - Words: 752 - Published: 01-06-12 - Status: Complete - id: 2986186
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
The man on stage was singing to someone named Delilah. She couldn't really be sure. She watched him as he sang, singing his heart out to this poor girl Delilah. She sipped her cocktail and waited for someone to say something.
No one said anything and so she just stared at the man, wondering how her life had turned out. She had everything she had ever wanted. She had fame, glory and money. She could do whatever she wanted now.
She had nothing of those which she shunned when she was young. She had no children. They were a bother, she told herself when she was much younger. She could never stand the wailing and crying of children. She could never stand it whenever they embarrassed themselves and their parents in public places.
As she grew older and older, as she came into more and more money and became more and more famous, she counted herself lucky for not making the mistake of having children.
She had everything she had ever wanted now.
She drained the cocktail and put the glass back down on the table. She got to her feet, giving the man singing on the stage one last look before walking out of the bar. Outside, the cold wintry air assaulted her skin. It was as if she could still hear the man singing to his precious Delilah.
She breathed in a sigh, looking at the world passing around her. She had everything and yet she had nothing. Everyone was changing but she remained the same. She could not understand. She had everything that she had ever wanted, why did she feel that way? She walked on, clutching her coat tighter around her body, determined to give herself some sort of comfort.
She came upon an old couple walking down the street. They were holding hands. She watched them. They never spoke to each other, nor did they look at each other but it was as if they were moving as one.
She felt afraid, suddenly. Would she be able to walk like them come time? Was there anyone in her life that mattered enough to take a walk with at the end of her life?
And then, on the next street, three little kids and their mother and father were looking at some display on one of the shops. She knew she could probably buy all those displays in all those shops but she also knew that she could never buy what that family had.
She refused to think about it. She never was good at admitting her mistakes. She walked on, determined to continue without any regrets.
On the last street, she saw a man begging for change. She reached into her pocket and pulled out some coins along with some bills. She put it in the man's cup and he thanked her profusely. She saw the man's eyes light up like a child on Christmas morning when she handed him the money.
Did she ever feel like that? That genuine happiness over a small amount of money. She was rich. Yes, she was extremely rich. But for her, it had always been more, more, more. When had she ever felt that it was enough, she wondered? She shook her head once more, ridding herself of those unpleasant thoughts.
She walked on, crossing the street this time. She was deep in thought. She had not noticed that the red light had turned to green. Her eyes were on the ground, her mouth turned into a perpetual frown as she realized that she was all alone. She had built a life for herself alone and well, she was alone. There was no one else. She would be remembered, yes… but by strangers. Had she really wished for that when she was a little girl? Had she really wished for those things?
There was a loud buzzing noise. It was the horn of some car, a truck or a bus perhaps. She stopped, looked up but all she could see were lights. Shiny, bright lights. She closed her eyes and heaved a deep breath.
The realization had come too late. She should have been more careful. She should have watched her surroundings. It was all her fault. She had no one else to blame but herself for this.
In the distance, it was as if she could hear the man singing again… to his precious Delilah, whoever she was. Delilah…
…it's what you do to me.