Post by Eclipse on Jun 8, 2004 23:07:33 GMT -5
What had attracted her to him in the first place? She couldn't remember, but he'd been beautiful when she saw him sing on stage. Maybe she just fell in love with the voice of a silly chorus boy. Not that it mattered anymore. Had she been a wh*re when he'd kissed her? She found she couldn't remember that either. The wh*re had been inside her....hiding for a long time.
The sharp guitar notes rang out, and they were so beautiful, they stung her eyes. She wiggled her red toe nails to the beat, and thunder crashed outside over the bass. She could feel the heat, the thick stillness of the air. Then again, maybe it was just humidity.
She peered out the window, half wondering about the onlooker. The voice from the speaker was handsome, but timid. She couldn't help but think about him. The soft puff of his breath. The twinkle in his eye when he smiled. His fake laugh. How the light flashed off his perfect teeth.
The rain ran down the windowpane. Stop fantasizing she told herself.
Each drop told a story, and she wish she couldn't see her reflection on the glass. She hadn't known she was crying until then. She hated the weakness on her face and angerily wiped her tears away.
The metal of the gun between her thighs had warmed from laying against her tainted skin.
She fingered the safety on it lightly, carefully as to not inactivate it. Her fingers fit so nicely against the gun, and her pointer found the trigger. It quivered slightly in anticipation, but the safety was still on.
She checked the chamber anyway. The bullet's metal gleamed when the lightening flashed.
The singer sung out more angry notes, and the guitar wrung out an irritated chord. Like the player was holding back from letting his fingers fly up and down the delicate frets. Her fingers twitched in the same manner, and nothing happened when she pulled the trigger.
The safety.
That's what it was for anyway, she remembered, and then she was overtaken by an involuntary spasm before lifting the gun out of her lap.
She'd nearly buried the bullet into her thigh.
She looked up, and her face was mocking her. She could see the reflected fear, the way her lip quivered cowardly. She sneered at her reflection, and it laughed in her face. She could almost here "wh*re" echoing in the empty halls of her head. The song reached climax, and the singer screamed simultaneously as she did.
Slowly, she raised the gun up to the glass, lined it up with her sinning forehead and blew her reflection away.
The sharp guitar notes rang out, and they were so beautiful, they stung her eyes. She wiggled her red toe nails to the beat, and thunder crashed outside over the bass. She could feel the heat, the thick stillness of the air. Then again, maybe it was just humidity.
She peered out the window, half wondering about the onlooker. The voice from the speaker was handsome, but timid. She couldn't help but think about him. The soft puff of his breath. The twinkle in his eye when he smiled. His fake laugh. How the light flashed off his perfect teeth.
The rain ran down the windowpane. Stop fantasizing she told herself.
Each drop told a story, and she wish she couldn't see her reflection on the glass. She hadn't known she was crying until then. She hated the weakness on her face and angerily wiped her tears away.
The metal of the gun between her thighs had warmed from laying against her tainted skin.
She fingered the safety on it lightly, carefully as to not inactivate it. Her fingers fit so nicely against the gun, and her pointer found the trigger. It quivered slightly in anticipation, but the safety was still on.
She checked the chamber anyway. The bullet's metal gleamed when the lightening flashed.
The singer sung out more angry notes, and the guitar wrung out an irritated chord. Like the player was holding back from letting his fingers fly up and down the delicate frets. Her fingers twitched in the same manner, and nothing happened when she pulled the trigger.
The safety.
That's what it was for anyway, she remembered, and then she was overtaken by an involuntary spasm before lifting the gun out of her lap.
She'd nearly buried the bullet into her thigh.
She looked up, and her face was mocking her. She could see the reflected fear, the way her lip quivered cowardly. She sneered at her reflection, and it laughed in her face. She could almost here "wh*re" echoing in the empty halls of her head. The song reached climax, and the singer screamed simultaneously as she did.
Slowly, she raised the gun up to the glass, lined it up with her sinning forehead and blew her reflection away.
