I'm With
You
This story, entitled, "I'm With You"
really is based on a song, also titled, "I'm With You". This is my interpretation of Avril Lavigne's
lyrics. The lyrics to the song can be
found in the book that comes with Avril Lavigne's CD (Losing Grip) or
online. Enjoy.
The setting is the bridge in
the middle of town. Made of cold, gray
stone, with no lights around it, nobody really ever goes there at night. Except me.
I'm April. No, not the month, silly, that's my
name. I'm sixteen years old, with long
red hair and blue eyes. I'm not that
tall, but I'm tall enough, I suppose.
But enough about me, let's get back to that bridge.
| So, I'm still standing on that
bridge. It's the middle of the night (it
was around 11:30 when I left home) and the lack of lighting is really
astounding; I can't see my hand in front of my face.
There's a reason I'm here, I
know there is, but I'm not sure what. I
think I'm waiting for…someone or…something…out there.
It's raining. Very hard. I'm soaking wet. And I'm very alone. There's nobody here but me. I can't hear anything but the "tap-tap" sound
of the rain on stone.
I'm confused. What's going on here? Why am I here? Am I losing it? I don't know if I really want to go on… Life is starting to get hard for me. My friends have left me…my family; withdrawn
from me…my boyfriend deserted me. I
don't have anywhere to go anymore.
Then I heard something
new. Footsteps on the
bridge. Footsteps! The figure started to appear from the
darkness….a boy!
"You look lost," he said. He stretched out his hand to me. Still not looking at him, I shook it
tentatively.
"Dan," he stated. I gave him
what I thought to be a quizzical look.
"That's my name," he laughed. "Do you have one?"
"A-Ap-April,"
I stuttered, shivering from the cold.
"Why're you here? It's pretty cold out; are you lost?" His smile was kind.
"N-no," I said, still
stumbling over my words. I tried to
stand up straight, but my legs collapsed under what little weight I had.
"If you're not lost, what are
you doing out here?" he asked. I watched
out of the corners of my eyes as he withdrew a blanket from inside his
backpack. As he lifted it over my head
and wrapped it around me, Dan motioned towards the buildings. I couldn't find the strength to walk over,
but he seemed to understand, and helped me over until we were both safe and dry
under the awnings.
"I was confused. I was sick of my life, and I had to
escape." For the first time throughout
this conversation, I lifted my head and made eye contact with Dan. He gasped as he stared.
"You're April Cunnings," he
stated, more out of disbelief than realization.
"Last time I checked I
was." I laughed for the first time in a
long while. "Do I know you?" I wondered.
"You should…I'm Dan Lawrence. I'm in your history class…I think."
"Fourth
period? Rotted
Bones Jones?" I asked, intrigued.
"Yup," he said, stifling a laugh.
"Yea, I think I'm in that
class."
"You think?"
"I do? I never knew…" At this we both collapsed with laughter.
"Hey," I said, thinking. "I know you!
You're that boy who always sits in the corner! The one who always carries
all those books around!"
"Ha!" he laughed. "I carry all those books around? You always look like you're about to fall
over from carrying your books."
"I take lots of classes, and I
read a lot. It helps me to escape my
life," I said, my eyes downcast. Dan
drew in a quick breath. I bowed my head
low, afraid of his response.
"April," he said. I nodded, not lifting my head. "Look at me, April." I glanced at him, expecting pity on his
face. To my surprise, I saw not pity,
but…regret? Apology? What did he have to be sorry for? Was he sorry for me? I opened my mouth to start yelling at him,
but he interrupted.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm not sorry for you," he clarified, seeing
the glare on my face. "I don't pity you,
either. There's no reason for pity. I'm sorry that I couldn't see what you were
going through; I went though the same thing around this time last year. I can't believe I was so ignorant…damn," he
said, smacking his forehead. It made a
loud *SMACK* noise. I giggled at the
sound.
"Oh, so that's it? Think I'm funny, do you?" he said, teasing.
"Yup," I giggled again. He laughed, and started chasing me around
under the awnings. This was my kind of
person; he had my sense of humor! We ran
around and laughed with each other until, too tired to continue, we collapsed
onto a bench.
"Well, that was fun. What now?" he asked. I glanced down at my watch.
"It's after one in the morning. You should go home."
"But what
about you? Where'll you go?" he
asked softly. I saw worry in his eyes, and glanced down.
"Oh, I'll figure something
out. I'd love to go home…not…but…I'm
afraid of what they'll say…or do…"
"Come home with me. My mom, she's cool like that. We can work something out, I know it." Dan
said. He held his hand out to me for the
second time that night.
As I took his outstretched
hand in mine, the rain seemed to fade.
Not stop entirely, just…drizzle.
I knew it was a sign, a sign that life would get better. I could have sworn I heard music…I stopped,
trying to listen.
"What's wrong?" Dan
asked. I shook my head, and the music
went away. But one line remained in my
head…
"Nothing," I said, pulling him
forward. "I'm with you."