A girl with short, brown hair is walking down the street towards her house. She reaches the front door, slots the key in the lock and steps inside quickly, taking a furtive look up and down the street first. She walks down the short corridor in the dark, and opens the door at the end that opens into her kitchen. The light blinds her for a second before she gets used to it. She enters the kitchen, and immediately turns the stereo in the corner on. The loud, haunting music fills the small house, echoing into every corner, every nook and cranny. And she begins singing with the music, the voice on the record and her voice become one;

Playground schoolbell rings again,

Rain clouds come to play again,

Has no one told she's not breathing,

Hello I'm your mind giving you,

Someone to talk to,

Hello.

She sings whilst changing in her bedroom, stripping to her pants and bra. She stands in front of the mirror, looking at herself, hating herself for what she has done

If I smile and don't believe,

Soon I know I'll wake from this dream,

Don't try to fix me I'm not broken,

Hello

I'm the lie living for you so you can hide,

Don't cry.

She sings as she traces the scars on her lithe body, the straight lines etched into her back, the string of soft curving mauve scars down her left side, the speckled patch on her left shoulder, the paper-thin mark across her throat

Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping,

Hello I'm still here,

All that's left of yesterday

She sighs as the song ends, takes a last look at her scarred body and reaches behind her to pick up a big T-shirt on the bed and slips it over her head. She pads on bare feet silently back to the kitchen. The stereo is silent. She takes the CD out and slides another one in, turns the bass on full blast. This one is louder than the first, drums beat, bass is played, a single electric guitar picks out a tune within all the noise, then a low male voice breaks in,

Controlling my feelings for too long,

Forcing our darkest souls to unfold,

And pushing us into self destruction,

And they make me,

They make me dream your dreams,

And they make me,

They make me scream your screams, he sings.

A young man who looks about four years older than the girl, with chocolate brown hair, curling almost down to his shoulders, jutting cheekbones, and large green eyes, is running. From what he doesn't know. His feet hit the hard surface of the road as he runs on, running his rage and pain away, trying to run from it but it is impossible, it keeps coming back. His breathing becomes ragged, and he has to stop and regain his composure. He is so angry, with himself, with her, with him for messing her up so much. He is standing at the end of her street, he has run there without realising it, there is her house, the little one squeezed in between two red brick houses. All it would take is a few steps up to her front door, but he knows as he stands there that he can never make those few steps unless she lets him into her world.

The girl is lying in bed, asleep, dreaming. She is shouting, throwing the sheets off, breathing heavily. In her dream her father is hitting her, kicking her, telling her what a useless person she is. You'll never do anything with your life he says and kicks her in the stomach, bone cracks as he continues his tirade. You're a fucking bitch, a good-for-nothing bitch like your mother, both exactly the same, leeching off me, he shouts. He pauses for breath then picks her up and throws her on the bed in the corner of the dark room. She is barely conscious as he orders her to take her clothes off. She shakes her head in weary refusal; so he does it for her - rips her shirt off, pulls her skirt down, tears her underwear off until she is lying, naked, shaking on the bed, tears streaming down her face as she pleads with him. He moves closer, onto the bed, reaches over her...

She awakes suddenly, sitting up, drenched in sweat, the tears still running down her cheeks.

The young man is thinking about her, why was he so attracted to her in the first place?

Something in the way she moved, her graceful body, her walk, swinging hips, standing straight. She always looked so proud; you could not see what was going on underneath, everything was carefully hidden.

Something in the way she spoke almost a whisper yet it commanded your attention. The things she talked about.

Something in the way she sang. The first time he met her properly and they actually spoken to each other - she had been standing on a stage, singing. Just singing and it was so remarkable that everyone was listening, when she finished her song the whole room was silent.

Nothing unusual, nothing strange

Close to nothing at all

The same old scenario, the same old rain

And there's no explosions here

Then something unusual, something strange

Comes from nothing at all

I saw a spaceship fly by your window

Did you see it disappear?

Come sit on my wall

And read me the story of old

And tell it like you still believe

That the end of the century

Brings a change for you and me

There's something I've learned

'Cause you feel it when they take it away

Something unusual, something strange

Comes from nothing at all

But I'm not a miracle and you're not a saint

Just another soldier on the road to nowhere

Such a beautiful song, a beautiful voice, a beautiful person.

He remembers the first time he saw her; she was running in the rain, running home in her school uniform. Her hair was dripping with water, she was soaked through, but she was happy. A smile played about her face, there she was, running in the rain; no one could touch her there, she was alone, happy and safe.

He remembers so much about her; too much perhaps, maybe he spends too much time thinking about her, there is nothing he can do now. She has gone.


1st Song: 'Hello' - Evanescence (I do not usually like this band but this song I love)

2nd Song: 'Showbiz' - Muse (one of my favourite bands, and this is one of the most powerful of their songs)

3rd Song: 'Amie ' - Damien Rice (one of my favourite of his songs)

I apologise if I have changed any of the lyrics as I did for 'Amie', I didn't want the name there.

This is my first story, and the writing style is inspired by an amazing book I read about six months ago, but I can't remember what it was called.

This was completely unreadable though, so I had to change it slightly.

Reviews are welcome. Thanks