Write for Lyrics is a crappily-named thing I do when I’ve run out of ideas. I give you the band name and a piece of prose/poem/who knows what and, if you want, you can guess what song I based it on. Guess right and I’ll give you virtual chocolate and real love.
I fiddled with the bracelet on my wrist as I stared blankly at the people on the dance floor. It was prom, and I’d come alone. No boyfriend; no friends; no anyone. I’d been deserted by the people I’d always thought cared for me on the one night that no teenage girl wants tp be abandoned.
“Katie,”a voice whispered from behind me. I spun, but there was no one there. He wasn’t there. He’d never be there again. He’d never care again. All because of one stupid, childish mistake.
I closed my eyes, thinking of Mark. He’d had a habit of kissing me on the cheek at school, taking my hand and then slowly pulling his own back as he moved away. He’d wanted Richard to know it; he’d wanted to show the absolute control he had over me as my eyes rolled back in my head a little and I tipped my head back in bliss.
He’d wanted to show us all that I’d been taken.
Richard put up with it for a while; told me he could handle it as long as I promised that I didn’t love Mark — that it was just the tattoo, the lust, that made me act that way around him.
But eventually he couldn’t stand it anymore… and neither could my friends. They called me a slut, a whore, horrible names for something that was beyond my control. Richard handed me over to Mark, swore that he wouldn’t have anything to do with me and would leave the both of us to the both of us.
And then Mark had got tired of his play toy, and I’d been left alone.
“Katie,” the voice whispered again, but I didn’t bother looking this time; he wasn’t here.
Neither of them were.