A/N – FNL started recently here in South Africa (We're up to epi 5) and I'm loving it! I love every character (with the obvious exceptions of Voodoo and Buddy Garrity).
This fic is just a short oneshot (songfic – a first for me), it deals with Tyra, straight after the LA Bigshot left the hotel room in Episode 5 – "Git 'er Done!"
The song quoted is from a South African band "Tait" – You can check out their myspace, pretty great band.
This is a first for me, I've decided to get a bit into the "darker" side of a character. And well, Tyra seemed like a prime candidate, and she fitted the song really well.
PS. I'm spoiler free for the rest of the season, so everything herein is just speculation on my part. I beg of you not to spoil me on anything that is yet to come – please and thank you!
Okay, on with the story…
She's only Seventeen
She sits in the corner thinking about all the things she has done
She says she's the only one to blame
The candle next to her seems brighter than the light in her heart
No one understands her pain
I knew it was going to happen, went with it for that very reason. I knew he was going to leave me here, in this godforsaken town from which there is no escape.
Really, I knew it, but yet I couldn't help but hope…
They just don't get her
She's caught up in this story
She's only seventeen
There's no one to protect her
She's just like you and me
I don't think it's fair
Can no one see…what is going on?
Mom hasn't been home in two weeks. Apparently she met up with an old "school-friend" – meaning a friend who's demanding certain benefits. Dad's been around. Told me to go home with him, that Mom wasn't good enough for me. Yeah, like he's any better? Yeah...
She tries to hide the scars
Taking pills to make it go away
She cries herself to sleep at night
When people point at her, and treat her like she doesn't belong
She just closes her eyes
When I was younger the teachers always asked me why I wore long-sleeved shirts in the Texan summer heat. What was I supposed to say? I do it because my daddy likes to use me for a punching bag while mom watch on in horror/sadness, but yet doesn't DO anything. Yeah right, like I could ever tell them that.
At least mom finally realized it couldn't continue and moved us out of there. That helped… For a few years at least, until I reached adolescence and the men mom brought home would rather look at me/rather fondle me than mom.
Yeah, it worked for a while…
She's dying inside, nowhere to run to
Looking for love, there's no one around
Everything else feels like a daydream
I cannot believe it so hard to find
This love…that's all she needs
Then I met Timmy. Good 'ol Tim. He's a sweetie deep inside, it's just buried so deep that even he forgets it at times. It tends to surface when his dad's been gone for more than two months. That's probably why we gravitated towards each other. We've both lived some pretty fucked up lives.
Oh well, that's also over now…
Hope his alcohol and left hand is enough company for him, it sure as hell isn't for me…
You couldn't understand, even if you tried you won't believe
What it's like to feel this way
A thousand voices trying to make you feel like everything's your fault
It just won't go away
I really don't hate being me, people have it worse. Like in Baghdad or something... I only have to deal with people who think of me as the town skank, the whore that's ready to be bedded by the first guy to flash me a smile. Yeah, that's not to bad...
If only they knew that I've only ever had sex with two guys in my entire life. (Mom's boyfriends don't count… THAT wasn't sex…)
I thought of doing it with Smash, but really, with that ego I couldn't see him lifting it for more than ten seconds. Yeah… I'm not a whore…
I'm just misunderstood.
I'm just... me...
She's caught up in this story
She's only seventeen
There's no one to protect her
She's just like you and me
I don't think it's fair
Can no one see…what is going on?