sorry this one is kinda melancholy but intersting

The cool breeze of an Autam afternoon flows through her hair, and the sun shines off it like a blazing wild fire. She sits quietly, basking in the comforting warm afternoon air, waiting to catch the 3:30 train back to school. Her ears are plugged with the sound of music, blocking all the noises of spring that are abundant in the outside world. She wears a smile because of song that plays. It is Layla, by Eric Clapton. She loves hearing the words "you got me on my knee's," as a result of her own name. She likes being in a postion of hierachy, where instead of yearing for attention, she is the one being yearned for. Layla has not experianced this in the span of her life.
She is surrounded by people. Sitting across from her is a teenage mother, or mabye that is her little brother, but the bags under her eyes seem to point more in the direction of a caring mom. But this sight is not foriegn to her. The scare three years ago makes it easy to relate, but i guess some people just have better luck.
Flash! With out warning, a lightning storm of past memoreis flash through her head. Flash! She remebers the car pull to the side walk, it pulls so close that it nearly knocks her off her bike. Flash, flash! The smell of the car when she was the tender age of six flows through her nostrils. That musty smell, that she now knows was a mix of liqour and cigeretts. She could describe every awful detail of that day. The black leather interior of the car. The sereing pain she endured, which to this day has never been matched. The look of the man. His every shape and form. The mole on the top of his left shoulder. The cut about his eye. She begins to shake as a result of the hate that flows through her. Any hint of that man, or that act in which he forced her into enflames her.
Flash! The storm takes her to her Sophomore year in high school. She remembers the boy, and the feel of she soft silk sheets rubbing against her bare back. How she was looking for comfort in all the wrong places. How she felt embraced in his arms, even though she was fully aware that everytime his lips spit the words " i love you," was nothing more then an exertion of tension during the height of passion. It was not the boy she cared about, she could give a damn whose arms she was in, but the attention she was getting from the opposite sex. She had never had it before, and felt it was nessecary to have, even if it ment attaining it by any means nesscary. This was her escape, her way to acceptance.
flash! the final thought. She remebers pushing open the door, walking to the desk, and hearing her test result come as positive. The first time since the last that she felt lost. He, he was no where to be found. What should she do? Where would she go? Who would she... ding ding. The 3:30, right on time.