Wrote this while listening to John Mayer's "Neon". I like this one a lot, actually.
Disclaimer: Jonathan Larson pwns my soul. And these characters.
She's out tonight.
Sometimes I worry about her. I do. It may not look like I care, but I do. Secretly, where no one can see. It's hard to worry so much and really have no one know.
Of course, I let her know a little. I mean, it's kind of unconscious when I do it. I've always been like this, I suppose. "Please. You're going to hurt him," I say. "You know, sometimes I worry about you both." And she just gives me a kiss on the cheek, and smiles that amazing smile at me. Thanks, she says, but I'm fine.
She's out tonight.
She's going to find a high, however she can. Right when he passes out from fatigue, she jumps up and runs out the door. Twilight's child. Anything to find a high. Doesn't she get enough money from her job? I know what she does behind those closed doors. She can't hide it from me.
She's out tonight.
One time, she and I had a fling. Something small, almost meaningless. Almost. But, somehow, it meant something to both of us. That affair was something behind closed doors, behind the drawn curtains, something sweet and beautiful but bitter and ugly at the same time. I don't know why we did it to him. He never knew, of course. Never. And so we kept that little secret to ourselves, the little unlikely affair. But there was something in how we hurt each other, something unspoken, something that lurks into your mind just as you drift off to sleep. I still see her sometimes, her image imprinted on the back of my eyelids, sleeping, peaceful, not drugged up like she usually was when she was around him.
She's out tonight.
I wish I could save her, but I can't. Maybe he can. She's his girlfriend, after all. I love her, I do. But I can't help her now. It's not my place. But, if she came to me for help, I don't think I could resist. I think I would wrap my arms around her, hold her tight, convince her to sleep in my room tonight. Twilight's child, my angel of the night. I want you home. Even if I can't hold you, even though you and I are taboo, I want to know you're safe. But you're out, getting high any way you can. I know what you do behind those doors, I know. You wish you could hide it, but once I saw you come in the door that one time, one hand in your pocket, the other rubbing your arm, I knew. And you saw me, and our eyes met. No, I won't tell him. I won't tell him what I know.
You should tell him before it kills you. But part of me thinks you're already dead, April.
She's out tonight.
-fin.
Hopefully some part of it you thought, "ZOMG!" xD Reviews are always welcome, pumpkins.