put me in the spotlight, baby.
It feels like we’re going one hundred miles an hour. Just fifteen minutes late and never too early to leave. We jump out of the car and run inside, just like last time. The musty scent and overheating climate brings sweat to my forehead. Once again, I remember what I hate so much. I look down shortly and then look back up. The lights turn off and the spotlight shines bright as if I am being accused of something terrible. I tell myself: I’m prepared for this. I look up and hint a smile, however, it felt more like a smirk to me. I’m telling a lie that has never felt so good. I think they can tell, because they are smiling right back. Suddenly, it doesn’t feel so good anymore. My hands start to shake and I turn my head toward the door. My mouth opens, but nothing will come out. I’m not ready for this just yet.
August 10, 2008