The Gift
by Mary

Jonathan walked off the stage, exhilarated! He'd just put his body through one of the most exhausting performances of his career. He felt tired, sweaty, and hot...and good. He always felt good after a kick ass performance. Everyone was slappin' him on the back, telling him what a good show. He made the usual mouth noises, "Yeah, uh huh. Thanks," and kept walking to his dressing room.

He entered the small dank room under the coliseum and shut the door. He leaned his back against the door and closed his eyes. His head was still pounding from their new sound system. He'd have to personally thank the man who set them up with it. It was their best system yet. He opened his eyes and walked over to the dressing table, sitting down in the chair. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. He furrowed his eyebrows in mock frustration, and then broke into a smile. He laughed outloud, startling himself in the quiet of the room. Then he noticed the package.

It was a small black velvet box, tied with a red satin bow. Unconsciencly, he looked around the room, expecting to see the giver of the box..of course he was alone in the room. He picked the box up. It was extremely light. He shook it slightly and could hear something thud very softly inside. He thought about not opening the package, but took a deep breath and pulled on the bow. He slipped the top off the box and looked inside. Due to the fact that the room's main source of light was one bulb dangling from the ceiling, he had difficulty seeing its contents. He reached in and pulled out an envelope marked simply 'Jonathan'. He sat the envelope on the dressing table's top. He then reached inside the package and pulled out its prize. It was the most beautiful braid of hair he had ever seen. It was tied at each end with the same satin bow that had tied the package. The braid measure almost 2 feet in length and was the softest shade of chestnut he had ever seen. Unconsciencly he brought the braid to his nose and enhailed it's scent...'Vanilla' he thought, with his eyes closed. The braid was soft and gentle against the hotness of his skin. He reached for the envelope and sat in the chair, still clutching the braid in his hand. He opened the envelope and felt a knot in his stomach as he began reading the beautifully hand written letter, which read:

"Dear Jonathan, this is for you. It is not a sacrifice for my love of koRn, so don't think that I am a stalker or insane. I just had a story of pain that I wanted to share with you and your role in my survival. It's been almost 2 months now since it happened. I was just 18, but it seems like I was so young then. Now I feel so old inside."

Jon stopped reading the letter knowing what he was going to hear. He wanted to put the braid in the box and drop it in the trash..but he couldn't. He felt he owed her this much, at least to hear her story. He continued.

"I was leaving my little part time job at the local grocery story. Because I was the most reliable, I was given the privilege to close that night. It wasn't even that late, around 10 pm or so, as I was walking to my car, alone. Now I realize how foolish that was, but at the time, everything seemed so natural, like it had so many times before. I had almost reached my car when I heard the sound of footsteps approaching fast. I turned, but it was too late, he had me pinned to the car. He demanded that I unlock the car, shoving the knife in my face, and forcing me onto the backseat. I don't want to tell what happened, but he just kept repeating the same thing..over and over and over, and that's really about the only thing I remembered vividly about the entire incident. Incident...what a cold word. Don't you agree? But after hearing it called that repeatedly, that seems a fitting word. He kept whispering, "It was your hair..How could I not touch it? Your beautiful hair."

Jonathan looked at the braid in his hand. He could feel the pain of a headache beginning.

"After it was over, which only lasted 5 or 10 minutes, but what felt like an eternity, I just laid there. Not sure what to do. Was he gone? Was he coming back? I was so tired from the fighting, so broke emotionally, I just wanted to sleep. I just wanted to dream it all away. But then reality came crashing back on me, making me realize who I was, what had happened, and what I had to do. I jumped behind the wheel of the car, locking all of the doors. I could see no one, everything was deserted. God bless life in a small town, right? I turned the car on and put it in gear. As usual, my CD player was on, and it began playing the song "Divine"

"I pulled out onto the main road and started for the nearest hospital. Along the way I thought about driving the car off the road, killing myself. I thought about just going home and imagining the whole thing never happened. Then I heard you, telling ME "Fuck you, fed up with you, I'm not as good as you, fuck no I'm better than you." And I started to feel anger..blind rage! It wasn't MY fault! I didn't deserve what happened to me! I wasn't the criminal!

"Needless to say, I made it to the hospital and did everything they told me to do. All of the pictures, all of the tests...everything. I felt victimized all over again, but I did it. I did it for me..I did it for you.

"After I got home that night, I could hear my parents cries as they wondered how this could happen to them...to them? What the fuck? It happened to ME! Only I know the pain I'm going through, only I know how and if I can make it.

"I took the world's longest shower, washing my hair at least 4 times. I entered my bedroom and shut the door behind me. I put in the koRn CD, your first, and sat down in front of the mirror, looking at my reflection. God, when had I gotten so old? I was 18 for Christ's sake. I braided my hair, and tied it with the satin bows that you are probably holding right now."

Jon flinched. How did she know? How did she know that he would be holding the braid?

"It is beautiful, isn't it? It took me a total of 6 seconds to decide to cut it all off and to do it. As I sat there, holding the braid, probably like you're still doing right now, I felt like a weight had been lifted from my soul. Fuck him! Fuck him for what he did to me! Fuck everybody else for pretending to understand my pain! FUCK THEM ALL!!

"Well, I'm still dealing with it. Trying to make it day by day. Things have gotten better, that or I'm making myself believe that they have. That's my story, Jonathan. If it hadn't been for your music to inspire me to get on with my life, I probably wouldn't have been able to share my survival story with you, because I know I wouldn't be here. You've helped so many people in so many ways, I just want you to know that. Do with the braid what you will...that's a part of my life that I will hopefully forget sooner or later. Just know that I will be forever grateful to you and your music...Love and Peace, Me"

Jonathan sat there for a several minutes..just holding the letter and braid in his hands, which were now slightly trembling. He shut his eyes, and put the hand holding the braid to his forehead..and he wept. He wept not only for the girl, but for himself..for everyone. The world is a fucked up place, but you just have to find a way to deal with it.

He finished crying and wiped away the last of his tears. He put the braid and the letter back in the box. He picked it up and walked over to the trash can, holding it, gettin' ready to drop it in. But then he realized, he couldn't do it. He hugged the box to his chest and walked over to his wardrobe, placing the box on the bottom of the case. He looked at it, sitting there among all the clutter, and shut the door. He walked to the door and stepped out into the hall. Everything was still in excitement from the show earlier.

Head walked up to him, "Man, are you ok? You look like shit." Jonathan thought about the story again, "Nah, I'm fine." Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a young girl. Her hair was cut short, but it was still beautiful...then he recognized the color. As he tried to step away from Head, she smiled slightly at him, and vanished through the stage exit door. Jon just looked at the closed door. "Man, are you trippin' or what?" Head asked him, slightly shoving his shoulder, beein' playful. Jon looked at him, not knowing whether to run after the girl, cry, or what? He just sighed, "Nah, everything's cool. Life's just peachy," and smiled a weary smile.