Chapter One
A girl sits in her room in the dark, alone. A single tear streams over her fine cheekbones. Her drunkard father is passed out downstairs, a bottle of alcohol still clutched in his hand. She tries to keep silent so she won't awaken the beast and then he'll have no reason to beat the life out of her. She takes out an old, ratty notebook and by a shaft of moonlight through her window, composes a letter to the only person she can think of.
Dear Michael,
I know we've never crossed paths and you have no idea who I am but, my name is Marissa. You can call me Mar for short. Um… what should I say about myself? I'm 15; I was adopted when I was three. My mom left when I was six, I haven't heard a word from her since that day. I love to write, almost more than breathing. Ever since I can remember I wanted to be an author. I want it so bad I can taste it, but I know there's not exactly a high demand out there for 15 year old who can out write most adults.
Another thing, I love your music, (as I suppose all your fans do) what little I get to listen to anyway. I can't let my father know that though. He has something against you for wearing eyeliner, I happen to think it makes your eyes pop. The last time I heard your songs, I was dancing to it (I'm not very good, haha.) My dad found me in the middle of it and proceeded to smash a beer bottle over my head. That doesn't make me love your music any less though.
Anyway, enough talking about my life, I just wanted to say, I don't have much to call my own so if you could write back, it would make me the happiest girl in the world, no lie. I'm probably wasting your time with all this, sorry.
All my love,
Marissa Larman
Michael is surrounded. He hates that he is forced to go to these stupid parties. He's withering beneath his heavy sequin jacket. Dignitaries and celebrities approach him in awe, like a caged animal ready to pounce. The only start talking about how much they love Thriller, or how they want to learn the moonwalk… all their speech blurs together after awhile until he just starts ignoring it all together. He just stands there like a bobble head, nodding yes whenever someone says something.
He tries to seek out an escape route but at every turn, another person runs up to him. He's frustrated but tries not to let it show, not that anyone can see pat his aviators anyway. He restlessly sways side to side, hoping that people will get the point that he doesn't want to chat. Finally, he makes a break for it. He walks briskly towards the first door he sees, the kitchen employees' lounge. Thankfully, it's the one place at the celebration that's completely secluded. He calls for his car and slips away unnoticed.
She seals the envelope and digs up an old stamp. From the books she's read she knows his address by heart, she scribbles both his and her address on the back of the slightly yellowed envelope. She slips it under her pillow for safekeeping until dawn. She rests her head, feeling the edge of the paper with her thumb until she finally drifts off.
She gets up early the next morning, just after sunrise. As usual her father has disappeared back to the bar and she's left to clean up the remains of his drunken rampage. She scrubs the dishes, sweeps the broken glass from the floor and mops out the spilt beer and urine in the bathroom. She neatens up as much as possible before she runs out the door.
The letter is held tightly in her pocket as she walks. She starts to wonder is she's a fool for writing and ever expecting a response. He gets truckloads of fan mail per day, what make her any more special than the rest of them? She pauses just before dropping the letter in, should she or shouldn't she. Just then some freshman with in need of an attitude adjustment decides to shove her face first into the mailbox.
"LOSER!" he taunts while walking away with his little cronies. She seethes with rage as she reaches up to feel a large bump welling up on her forehead just above her hairline, thankfully no blood is pouring out. She takes a deep, calming breath and drops the letter in the box before continuing to school.