This Used To Be My Playground

Written by Madonna and Shep Pettibone

This used to be my playground (used to be)
This used to be my childhood dream
This used to be the place I ran to
Whenever I was in need
Of a friend
Why did it have to end
And why do they always say

Don't look back
Keep your head held high
Don't ask them why
Because life is short
And before you know
You're feeling old
And your heart is breaking
Don't hold on to the past
Well that's too much to ask

This used to be my playground (used to be)
This used to be my childhood dream
This used to be the place I ran to
Whenever I was in need
Of a friend
Why did it have to end
And why do they always say

No regrets
But I wish that you
Were here with me
Well then there's hope yet
I can see your face
In our secret place
You're not just a memory
Say goodbye to yesterday (the dream)
Those are words I'll never say (I'll never say)

This used to be my playground (used to be)
This used to be our pride and joy
This used to be the place we ran to
That no one in the world could dare destroy

This used to be our playground (used to be)
This used to be our childhood dream
This used to be the place we ran to
I wish you were standing here with me

Chapter One

Regrets

Jackson looked at the pirate adorning the label to the Captain Morgan’s Parrot Bay bottle. It was her favorite. She loved the taste of coconut rum. He had loved the taste of coconut rum on her. He had loved her. He looked at his cigarettes and just felt frustrated with himself. He wanted so bad to give into the cravings and pull one of the unfiltered menthol sticks out and light it up, inhaling deeply. She had hated smoke. She would kiss him and make a face. A face that would haunt his mind forever because that’s how she would view him from now on. He would be her biggest mistake and she would hate him for it. He was sorry. Damn he was sorry. If only he could go back and fix the past then things might have been different. Maybe she would still be with him. Her childlike eyes fixed on him, begging him to place his lips on hers and touch her. To feel her silky black hair within his pale fingertips and be able to write again.

She had known his passion for writing. He was fresh out of college, 24, slim built, broad shoulders, black hair, black eyes, and far too pale…but she had seen something in him. Something that he himself didn’t see and he doubted that his fiancée saw. Dammit. If only. He needed her. He needed to smell the familiar soft scent of the tangerine lotion she used to wear, to taste her watermelon chapstick from her lips. Jackson felt like he was on drugs and that she was his fix. He was craving her. He wanted to feel her running through his bloodstream.

He had frightened her away. He was obsessed with her, which shouldn’t happen. He was almost 25 and he thought he was in love with a 17-year-old. It was sick. It was perverted. It was illegal, but it had happened. She had been so much older than her driver’s license stated. Her eyes seemed to hold the world, and her body was far from being a child’s. Those long tan legs and those eyes. Her eyes were his favorite past time. They were big and innocent looking in an almost shape at a slant. The color was unexplainable. It was like a gray brown…the brown was so hazy they were grayish. He had never seen anyone else with those eyes. He had never met anyone that would rest her eyelashes on his cheek when they were lying in his arms.

What worried him the most was if she had told. It had been their little secret for forever. Their love affair should have been given more time. It shouldn’t have ended so soon. He shouldn’t still be withdrawing from her, but she had just left without a note, and he knew why. God did he know why. He had hurt her, he was sure of it. What was probably the sickest was the fact that he had been her senior English teacher. She just had to survive that last year and then she was out of that shithole they called a school. She was beautiful. She was forbidden. She was Madison Bransom also the daughter of the principal that had hired him.

Jackson knew it had been wrong. Jordy Bransom, his superior, had never given him a reason to hate him. Hell, the guy had made his job extremely easy, but Jackson had broken the forbidden rule. He had gotten involved. It was a fatal mistake. His family was prestigious and rich. Who didn’t know the Roberts? It was counted as the eighth sin if you didn’t. Jackson also had Christina Florentine. A beautiful blonde bombshell of a wife that cooked his dinners, nursed his wounds, slept with him when he wanted it, and didn’t complain. Everything had been so easy and Jackson did what he did best. He screwed it up.

Authors Note: Hopefully you read my warning about this fic, but just in case you didn’t. I’m going to put it here. This story isn’t for the virgin of eyes, this story is more than likely going to fall in a half erotica type story. I don't plan to be porno, but I do plan to present the story very realistically. So please if you are offended with any of the following you may not want to read the story: (1) statutory rape (2) underage drinking (3) drugs (4) curse words (5) sex in any form (6) abuse [physical & sexual]. Okay…so you’ve been warned. I do hope you enjoy my story if it’s the type of story that you can enjoy, and please review!