Melody I

All her life, Melody had been the good girl.  Straight As, never drank a drop or smoked a joint. Never crossed that line into womanhood with a boy. She had plans, Melody did. She was going to graduate high school, go to the school of her dreams and get an English degree, go to law school and become a kick-ass prosecutor who put away the scum of the Earth. That was the plan and there could be no interference  She couldn’t afford a slip up, because a slip up could cost her everything. But like all dreams, obstacles occur. People come into your life and change you so quick it will make your head spin. Things happen that shatter your world to pieces so small you’ll be pulling slivers out of your hands until you’re 80. In Melody’s world, the beginning of the end started on a cold winter day in November with a boy who had a crooked smile but the softest smile she’d ever seen. A boy who smelled a bit too much like marijuana but stole her heart the minute he said her name. 

Throughout her life, people have failed Melody time and again. Because of this, Melody had a cold exterior to protect a heart aching for love. She found solace not in people, but in love stories; books, movies, plays, anything where a happy ending was found for the young girl in love with a Marine, for the widow who’s tired of being alone, for the man who could never seem to find a good woman.  Melody filled her head with these fairy tales and romances fashioned out of thin air and wrapped them around her like a coat. They were her shelter, her stronghold, her strength.

On her eighth birthday, Melody’s father promised he’d bring her the best birthday present he could find. On Melody’s eighth birthday her father was shot and killed by a teenager with a gun who was too eager to pull the trigger. In sixteen seconds, Melody’s world came crashing down around her. She no longer had the man who would drop all his weekend plans and take her to the beach if she wanted to go swimming at the community pool. She lost the man who taught her how to tie her shoes with rabbit ears and the man who taught her to choke up on the bat when she’s about to swing. All she had left was the mother too wrapped up in a socialite world to even see her.


A Melody in the Wind

“I’m not here to fight”, she whispered into the dark. She was silently praying for some kind of truce, a ceasefire to this war they’d been waging for what felt like forever. He blew out the breath he’d been holding and looked at the woman he’d planned on sharing the rest of his life with. With tears in his eyes, all he could do was walk away. 

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