Somewhere cold

[cookie05]

Joan wasn't sure where she was or how she got here. She had been walking for days alone carying only her guitar and her knife.
An icey cold wind picked up and sent shivers down Joan's spine. The sun was setting and Joan thought she better find a place to hide for the night as she could see that there were hardly any street lamps and basically all but one were not working.

She spotted the old building and woundered what it use to be. As she moved closer she noticed that it was an old police station.
Joan slowly made her way through the front door..well if you could still call it that.
Desks, paper, glass, wood it was scattered everywhere on the floor.
She just stood in the one spot where she had come in and looked around. Joan placed her hand on the handle of her knife not knowing if there was anyone around, and if there were, what sort of people were they?

She slowly made her way around what must had been the front office.
Joan couldn't find any sign of life but she was finding other things
Joan found a warm jacket just lying on the ground and she quickly picked it up. It was way to big for her but at least it would keep her warm for the night.
The wind then blew through the windows where glass should had been but it was lying on the ground in little pieces. A dented old rubbish can rolled our and Joan saw it.
She still had some matches on her and so she thought she could make a small fire.

Picking up the can and a stack of paper she made her way over to a corner where she sat down.
She placed the rubbish can down and put only some of the paper in it.
Lighting the match she threw it in and it started to burn slowly. After a couple of minutes she had a fire going.
She smiled slightly as she welcomed the warmth from the fire.
Joan put the jacket on and then took her guitar in her hands and started to play and sign to herself 'Boulevard Of Broken Dreams' by Green Day

"I walk a lonely road
The only one that I have ever known
Don't know where it goes
But it's home to me and I walk alone

I walk this empty street
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams
Where the city sleeps
and I'm the only one and I walk alone..."

[Sheryl Freeman]

~*Chilling winds blow
Down this alley of darkness
Here I walk
All alone*~

Walking in this cold breeze with only a sweatshirt wasn’t the best thing to do. Sheryl shivered where she was standing in the alley. Up till today she had had a nice and warm jacket, but for some reason it had chose to disappear. But surely she would find it, or a new one, before this day was over, or would she? She had been searching all day, first in the “neighbourhood”, and now here, but she had found nothing. Slowly her positivity was running out, and when it did so, what was she to do? Cry? Start cursing? All that would be in vain since it would not make her jacket reappear. Mainly there were two reasons why this jacket meant so much to her. One: it had belonged to her husband. Two: it was the only thing she had to warm herself with.

Her hope was running out, and she had already sat down, resting her back against a cold stonewall of an old police building. Then she heard it, a very weak but soft sound coming from somewhere inside the complex. She rose quickly, and looked around. What was that? She made for the door and entered, slowly making her way inside. Since the floor was covered by shattered glass, pieces of wood, and God knows what more, she was careful about where she put her feet. Then she saw the girl further in. She seemed to be playing the guitar and what a voice! Sheryl couldn’t remember when she had last heard music, but it was long ago. The sound made her calmer and it felt safe to listen to it. Slowly she moved closer, she didn’t want to disturb the girl playing.

~*Say the night is ending
A new day will begin
Don’t stop the music
It heals the wounds within*~

[cookie05]

Joan didn't hear the other person walk in and she just continued playing and singing to herself.
The fire beside her burnt brightly and gave off warmth which was helping to keep Joan warm along with the jacket which was way to big for her.
Joan then stoped playing to add more paper to the fire.
As she did she noticed that she was no longer alone.

She slowly placed her guitar down next to her and moved her hand onto the handle of her knife as she sat there.
Joan had run into many people along the way and all what they have tried to do was take what was hers, and she wasn't about to let that happen again.
"Who's there?" She called out.
Joan didn't know this place and didn't know what sort of people were around so she was really cautious of all she meets.

ooc - sorry its short.

[Sheryl Freeman]

~*Grieving won’t ease our pain
Fighting won’t kill it
Just let me help you*~

Not knowing if it was her mother instincts or just some random feeling she had, but to Sheryl it seemed like the girl was frightened, or at least very cautious. She had stopped walking at the same time as the music died, and her gaze swept over the fire and then landed on the girl. Who was she? She didn’t seem old, so she probably still lived with her parents, or did she? Perhaps she was one of those runaways? Or had she been abandoned? Or had perhaps her parents died? At the last question Sheryl felt a pinch in her heart, as she was then reminded about the fait of her own family. She gave her a look, though the light from the fire was slightly blinding her.

It’s alright, I won’t harm you.

The girl had sounder a little frightened or then it was just the acoustics of the room they were in, either way Sheryl’s mother instincts had awoken. Her own voice was soft, though a little hoarse due to the fact that she had been walking the cold streets without her jacket for the whole day. Surely she would catch a flue of something worse before this was over. Carefully she stepped a little closer. She had seen a lot, and wasn’t exactly careless when approaching a stranger, she knew that a beautiful mask could hide a demon behind it, the same went for innocent.

I’m Sheryl, Sheryl Freeman.

~*Become my friend
I’ll help you out
Together we’ll be stronger
Than alone*~

[cookie05]

Joan slowly took her hand off from the knife's handle and then started to add more paper to the fire.
It had been a while since she talked to anyone but it wouldn't hurt to talk.
"Joan...Joan Harvey" she said and then picked up her guitar again and held it in her hands.
She saw that Sheryl was freezing and since the jacket was to big for her and the fact she had the fire burning she took off the jacket and threw it over to her.
"It'll keep you warm, its too big for me any way" she said

Joan then moved her hands over the top of the trash can to warm them up from the fire which was brightly burning inside.
When she felt they were warm enouth she started to play again softly. She was playing 'lonely no more' but she didn't sing.
As she played she looked at the lady and wondered why she was out and all alone.
For some reason Joan felt safe been around this lady, she had never felt safe in her life. She has always been running from something, either her abusive parents or from gangs or from people who wanted to hurt her and take what was hers.

Joan started to humm quietly along to the tune. Music always confort Joan for when she was alone or in trouble.
Her gaze then went away from the women and she just looked at her guitar and sat as close as she could to the trash can for maximum warmth.
Suddenly loud thunder could be heard followed by flashes of lightning which made Joan jump but she tried to hide the fact that she was scared of lightning.

She then started to sing the words to herself.

"I don't wanna be lonely no more
I don't wanna have to pay for this
I don't want to know the lover at my door
Is just another heartache on my list

I don't wanna be angry no more
You know I could never stand for this
So when you tell me that you love me know for sure
I don't want to be lonely anymore..."

[Sheryl Freeman]

~*Lay your fears behind you
Time will heal your wounds*~

Sheryl just stood there awaiting the reaction. Then the girl, or Joan, seemed to relax. She stepped a little closer, with a sort of longing look at the fire. Her hands were almost numb by the cold, and as the jacket was thrown at her she caught it in a tight but slightly fumbling grasp. She put it on and came all the way to the fire, taking along a stack of papers and some wood, and then sat down, almost next to Joan. She felt some warmth in the jacket, which must be what the girl left in it. Then she leaned fourth, added some wood into the fire, and held out her hands. Slowly she could start to feel them again.

The sound of the guitar made her feel much more relaxed, and a smile appeared on her lips. She closed her eyes and just listened, letting the tunes carry her away, far away, to a far better place that this. And then there was the thunder. She was woken by the thunder and her eyes widened a little as lightning striking outside lit up the room. Looking over at Joan she noticed the girl seemed tense.

It’s all right, dear.

Her voice was calm, and soft. Some concern could be recognized in it, some caring too. This girl was out here for a reason, but any parents who really cared for her would not permit it. Therefore Sheryl felt a sort of responsibility towards her. She looked at Joan for a moment as she continued singing. She deserved to have a better place to stay at.

~*Lightening strikes
Lighting our paths
Still we struggle to find them*~

[cookie05]

Joan looked at her, she wasn't sure how to react with her coming closer and sitting down but she saw she brought no harm.
Joan had forgotten what it was like having someone to be with her...she never had someone to be with her. The only people she felt close to for a while were the people in the gangs she had joined but then she found when trouble came around they were only out for themselves and you were left to deal with the law on ya own, this was how she always got caught and she moved alot around from gang to gang.

Joan stoped playing and took a minute to recovour from her shock from the lightning.
She then heard Sheryl say 'dear'.
"why do you call me dear?" she asked
Joan wasn't use to people caring about her. She has always been an outcast...a loner...unwanted.
She has lived on the streets most of her life when she wasn't hiding in the cupboard hiding from her parents when they were fighting so she wouldn't get hit.

Joan then looked down at her guitar and then started making up a tune on the spot.
She didn't know what she was playing she just played.
While she was playing Joan sneezed and as she breathed you could hear her shivering but she continued to play acting like she didn't sneeze or that she was freezing.
A strong wind then picked up and blew all around the run down building.
Joan closed her eyes but continued playing. Soon she found it was getting harder to play so she stoped.
She placed the guitar on her knees and placed her shaking hands over the trash can and closed her eyes as the heat from the flames heated her hands.
Joan then broke her silence...she wasn't much of a talker, it was hard for her to talk to people.
"what are you doing out here any way? don't you have a home to go to?" she asked. Joan's voice was shaking and sounded funny.

[Sheryl Freeman]

~*Are you cold my friend
Warmth can be found
In the smallest of things
It resides within*~

Sheryl shivered at Joan’s first question. Why indeed had she called her dear? She sat there for a while pondering, trying to find an answer. She stayed quiet when Joan continued playing. The cold wind blowing through the building made her freeze a little again, and a worried look appeared on her face when the girl sneezed. As the silence then was broken by Joan, she looked up for a moment. Her gaze was blank for a moment, and then a tear rolled down her cheek. She quickly buried her face in her hands. The memories had now returned with their full power. The reason for her being here was a secret she had carried with her when she arrived, but she had never told anyone the reason.

I… I came here to search for my husband and children.

Her voice was broken, and sort of hollow, and she shook her head as a few more tears made their way down her cheek and dropped down on the jacket. Now she had said it, at last a confession that should have been made a long time ago. Her eyes sought contact with Joan’s, after first flicking over the guitar in her knees. How would she react? Would she laugh, or would she ignore it, or would the reaction perhaps be one of sympathy?

She still had the first question in her mind, an now she knew the answer: she was a mother, and a mother who had lost her two children. That was reason enough to care for other children who seemed lonely. They needed some care and devotion.

~*I’m just waiting
For this night to end
My star is falling
Help it rise again*~

[cookie05]

Joan just sat there. She didn't know how to react, she has never felt sorry, or shown love or anything towards other people.
]"hope you find them then" she said.
Joan didn't understand why people bothered looking for other, If they were gone they were gone. Was it because no one cared about her, took her in as their own. Most people just wanted to use Joan to do odd jobs and in the end leave her and not help her out if she was in trouble.

Joan then sneezed again. She kept her hands close to the fire as it felt like it was getting colder by the minute.
Joan looked at Sheryl and saw that tears were rolling down her face. Just seeing those tears made her feel strange inside but she didn't know why.
She looked away back at the small fire that was burning.

"my parents didn't care about me, they were always fighting all the time......They use to hit me when they were angry and fighting, so i spent most of my time hiding..."
Joan didn't know why but she just said it out of the blue. Was it this funny feeling she couldn't describe inside of her which made her do it? she just didn't know.

[Zane]

The wind outside was bitter and cold; it appeared that some sort of storm was on its way. The night air was quickly growing chilled, and every now and then bright flashes of lightning streaked the sky. The lightning was followed by thunder, but there was an obvious delay, so the storm wasn’t very close yet. Zane was afraid that the heavily clouded heavens might open at any moment, pouring down water and drowning him in a torrential flood of icy raindrops. He shivered slightly, despite the fact that his clothes were warm and the wind didn’t really bother him. It wasn’t the weather, so much as the atmosphere, which chilled him. Walking along desolate streets at night couldn’t exactly be called his favourite hobby. Although he wasn’t fond of crowds, he still felt that the saying of safety in numbers rang dangerously true. Maybe there was someone lurking here, watching him from somewhere, an alley perhaps, or a window? Even though his nighttime vision was much better than his daytime vision, it was certainly nothing extraordinary, nothing superhuman. What he needed now was a safe haven, a place maybe to rest and find shelter, because he had not slept in ages, and it was not wise to walk the streets alone. He was already feeling noticeably lethargic, and if he let himself get any more tired then he was bound to risk injury.

Zane scanned the street carefully, almost hungrily, searching for a good spot to stay for the night. Most of the buildings looked rather ancient, and many were burned out, or otherwise desecrated. Broken windows, doors hanging on only one hinge, boards and nails and pealing paint. This city truly had met a tragic fate, and Zane couldn’t help but feel pity for it. The decay, the sad air of lost history that surrounded the place like an aura, it was almost suffocating. Just then Zane spotted a large stone building that loomed up before him. As he drew closer he could see that it had been a police station, and that it appeared to be solid and secure. From one of the windows there shone a strange orange light, which flickered and flared, which made him think that it must have been a fire or a candle of some sort. He wondered just who might have taken up residence in the old police station, and if they might be hospitable enough to allow him to spend the night as well. He scaled the steps, two at a time, because he was eager to come in from the cold.

Once inside he proceeded slowly, making sure to tread carefully in case there might be something on the floor that could cause him to trip. He followed the light at the end of the small hallway, hearing the sound of murmured voices as he walked. Two women, one who sounded young and another which was noticeably older. They sounded calm, they seemed peaceful, but one could never be too sure. He couldn’t make out their words exactly, and he really didn’t try to either. Listening in on conversations felt wrong, but it did have its purposes, and it had saved his life on quite a few occasions. Once Zane reached the doorway he paused for a moment to catch his breath. He found that his heartbeat had sped up, and that he was panting ever so slightly. Was that nerves or was it something else, something more serious? He took a step into the room, then another, and stopped, hesitating. He raised a hand and combed his fingers through his hair uneasily. Then he cleared his throat, attempting to draw attention to himself without scaring either of the women before him. He held his hands before him in plain sight, so that they would know that he meant no harm.

[Sheryl Freeman]

~*I feel a pain inside
As you mention the name
The name of a thing I fear
That thing is loneliness*~

Sheryl turned her gaze away, at the shortcut and, in her opinion, rude reply. Was this girl really this cold or was it only a mask she wore? It had to be a mask, otherwise she wouldn’t have cared to give her this jacket. Oh yeah, the jacket. She shivered slightly: it was almost too small for her so it didn’t warm her properly. As Joan sneezed again the worried look, blended out with the expression of deep sorrow, reappeared on Sheryl’s face. This girl would get herself a real bad cold before the night was over.

I can’t allow it.

Sheryl rose taking of her jacket. She then stepped up to Joan and placed the jacket on her shoulders. The girl needed it more than she did, and it was better she stayed healthy than Sheryl. Younger people still had a change of seeing the future, while her own generation didn’t have that much left. What added more to Sheryl’s concern was what the girl had just said about her family. She leaned forward where she was standing behind Joan, gently placing one hand on her shoulder.

Two years back I was a happy mother with a husband and two children. One day they were gone, and I haven’t heard from them since.

I hope you’ll find someone who cares for you, it’s a wonderful blessing.

She would probably have continued speaking but instead she quickly rose and took a step back. Her gaze was nailed to the man who had just entered. Who was he and what did he want, and why was he wearing sunglasses though the sun wasn’t shining? Was he dangerous? His actions answered her last question, at least Sheryl relaxed slightly and nodded. She crossed her arms, not to put up a strict expression, but to try and warm herself. Her yellow sweater wasn’t exactly warm, but she wouldn’t accept the jacket back anymore now: Joan needed it much more that she did, even if it was too big for her. Sheryl still remained standing, a few steps behind Joan, but her gaze flickered away: first to the fire, then to Joan and the guitar, and finally back to the man.

Just come in.

~*Solitude
Autumn mood
A shadow
Beneath this hood*~

[Zane]

If they had been able to see his eyes then the women would have noticed a definite change in his gaze. Those words that the older woman spoke, they caused a shadow to pass over Zane’s features. His lips, which had been almost ready to smile, instead became a pained sort of half smirk. She hadn't meant to, but that woman had just given him a rather harsh emotional blow. She spoke of compassion and blessings, a cruel way to torture those who had never been given the opportunity to experience such pleasure. With one quick glance at the girl Zane could tell that she was not of the same kindred temperament, she appeared to be much colder in disposition. He nodded politely to them both nonetheless, but his stance was still rigid and tense. Yet again he was grateful to have his sunglasses, to have his barrier and shield firmly in place. Because if they had been able to see the hateful glare that he gave the elder woman, they would have surely cast him out. He meant her no ill, and he would harm none, but when someone managed to hit one of his weaker points anger seemed to be his guaranteed reaction.

Zane watched as the elder woman gave the younger one a jacket. It appeared as if they were both freezing, and that must have been why they had lit the fire. Mentally he scolded them for being so unprepared, but he felt for them as well, and when the older woman shivered his expression changed to one of concern. Now that he was inside he felt warm, and he really didn’t need the heavy leather jacket that he was wearing. It was frayed and tattered at the bottom, but it was long, and most importantly, it was warm. He took it off slowly, then rolled it up slightly, and approached the older woman. He fingered the leather lovingly, marveling at the smoothness of the worn material. It was not a beauty, but it served its purpose, and he would not throw it out until it practically fell apart at the seams. Even then he wasn’t sure if he would be able to part with it, and maybe he would keep the scraps? But he could lend it out for a small amount of time, if it was for a good cause.

Thank you, if you’re cold then you can borrow my jacket.

He handed her the jacket, attempting to appear friendly and normal although his tone was oddly neutral and colorless. After handing her the jacket he backed away a few places, away from the bright light of the fire, which was a pain to look at. He didn’t need its warmth, and he preferred the old familiar safety that the shadows granted him. Turning away from them both he set about examining the small room, brushing his palm along the wall briefly, then looking back over at the two women. He spoke again, this time allowing his voice to betray the tiredness he felt inside. He was exhausted, if one were to be truthful, and he hoped that a long discussion wouldn’t ensue. He wanted rest, to sleep and refresh, for the first time in days.

I’m Zane by the way. I hope you don’t mind if I spend the night here with you.

[cookie05]

Joan became uneasy as she wasn't use to been around many people.
She flinched at the slightest touch by Sheryl as she placed the Jacket around her.
Looking up at the other man she had her hand on the handle of the knife. She was prepared to use it if she felt her life was in danger. Joan looked to the fire and added anouther piece of paper to it to help it keep burning brightly for she didn't want it to go out.

Joan's breathing was uneasy as she sat there. She was not one to socilize around people as she didn't trust people. She looked down at her guitar and then at her knife which she had one hand on the handle ready to use if she had to. She then looked back up at Zane, but didn't give a warm welcome look, it was one more of a cold and scared look.
doesn't he have a home to go to or was he out searching for something as well? she thought to herself.

Joan then sneezed again but this time she coughed. She tried to ignore the fact that she could be getting sick but she didn't like to show that she was. It was getting colder and it would get colder during the night. She didn't know how much longer the fire would hold out, she was running out of paper and wood to burn and if the fire did go out it would be dark and cold. Joan didn't really trust anyone but since he has brought no harm. she slowly took her hand away from her knife and picked up her guitar.
"you can stay"she said very quietly

Joan then started to play and sing 'untitled'


" open my eyes
I try to see but I'm blinded by the white light
I can't remember how
I can't remember why
I'm lying here tonight

And I can't stand the pain
And I can't make it go away
No I can't stand the pain

How could this happen to me
I made my mistakes
Got no where to run
The night goes on
As I'm fading away
I'm sick of this life
I just wanna scream
How could this happen to me.."



Joan couldn't continue singing the song, tears feel from her eyes. For the first time in years she has never felt so lone, so scared. She thought she was sure of who she was and that she could survive on her own but now...now she was not so sure.

[Zane]

((I would reply, but I really need Sheryl to say something before I can move forward!))

[Sheryl Freeman]

((I used the lyrics from the song Deep Within by Within Temptation.))

~* Is there a place deep within
A place where you hide your darkest sins
There's a strange kind of ambiance,
it's surrounding you
As a songstress you lure me,
towards the truth *~

Sheryl kept her gaze nailed to the man for a moment, almost as if trying to see through those sunglasses. She watched him take off his jacket, and was mildly surprised as he offered it to her. Had he not turned away that fast she would have objected, nut now she felt she had no other choice but to take it. For a moment she looked down at it, then put it on, noticing it was a very good size and it felt comfortable and warm. At his following words she looked up again. So Zane was his name. Sheryl gave a weak smile, but it soon died as she looked down at the fire after Joan had replied. The atmosphere was tense and somewhat cold. Sheryl now went in for an effort to lighten it up.

I’m Sheryl Freeman, and this is Joan Harvey.

She bent down and took up a bag she had brought with her. It contained some bread and a bottle of which contents we shall not speak. She looked up at the both of them, holding up the bread, and then placed it on top of the bag and roze.

This is not much but it’ll keep us from starving. I’ll get some more paper and wood for the fire.

~*Candles die down as you leave the room
In my heart you leave no gloom
As you lure me I know the truth
You're a leprechaun, I see you through *~

She left the room, and the darkness of the hall surprised her. For a moment she couldn’t see anything but slowly her eyes got used to the darkness. Following on of the walls she made her way to what must have once been an office table. Now it was shattered into pieces and among the wood was also a lot of paper. As she approached it she stepped on something, something sharp, and she grasped at the pain. She bent down to be able to see what it was. A knife. She picked it up and eyed the rusty blade and thick handle, it was a wonder it was still sharp. Then she limped the rest of the way to the shattered table, picked up the wood and paper she needed, and set off towards the light again. She bit her lip to stop herself from cursing aloud, obviously her shoes hadn’t presented any resistant of the knife; she would have to see to the wound as soon as she got back to the light.

As she entered the room again, and limped over to her place there was a smile on her lips, though it took quite an effort from her side to keep it there. She dropped the wood beside Joan, took a seat a little further away, and took a new look at the knife, letting out a sigh as she saw there was also blood on the blade. Perfect. She must have left a trail of blood after her as she got back in. Now she needed to get the wound fixed, but she would prefer to do it herself, preferably without the others noticing any pain.


~*Is there a place deep within
A place where you hide your darkest sins
There's a strange kind of ambiance,
it's surrounding you
As a songstress you lure me,
towards the truth *~