Lauren plans
Great things for
My seventeenth
Birthday but
I'd much prefer a
Small autumn barbecue by
The lake
Or Oscar River.
We have been
Back at school
For a week now.
And we were talking
About my birthday
At break
When you came and
Sat down next to us.
I scanned around us
To see if it was
Just a dare from your
Friends but
You seemed
Friendly and
Nice.
I averted my eyes
A lot
Because I didn't want
To create any tension
Or awkwardness
Like I always do.
But Will and Lauren
Continued on
And I just watched
Your hands softly
Tapping a rhythm onto the
Table we
Were sat around.
They looked soft
And strong.
So different to mine.
My hands are worn
And old from
Eczema and
Piano playing.
Your hands told me a lot though.
They showed you have been
Cared for and
You're healthy.
They also told me
You had no reason
To tire them
Out.
I remembered how
Your hand had once
Touched mine.
I could feel my cheeks redden
From the memory
And it was at that moment
You said my name.
Will and Lauren had
Stopped talking but it
Felt like it was
Just you and me.
And the way you were
Looking at me
Made me feel special
And wanted.
You asked what I really wanted to do
And I said
I didn't know.
I lied
Because Will and Lauren were there.
Perhaps if it
Was just you
I would have said.
At home,
I sat in bed with my birthday present puppy
And read a good book.
But even as I drifted off to sleep
And my mind was at its most vulnerable
I still thought of you.
Why do I always think of you?
Why can't I let you go.
You're not interested
Because who
Would ever
Actually love me?
Because being wanted
Is not the same as
Being loved.
I think it's to be a
Long and
Cold night.
The kind of night that
makes my hands
age in the darkness.
(found under Chloe Mcmullen's bed)
YOU ARE READING
Faded
Teen FictionBecause in the end, we are all irrelevant. Especially me. {A series of notes and letters written by a girl called Chloe McMullen, found in places you would least expect}