Love With Abandon

Task Two

I awoke in a room on a white bed with white sheets, white pillows, and wrapped up in a white robe; a place I recognized as the hospital.

"Are you okay?"

I turned my head to the sound, and saw Simon Cowell standing there, with a look of concern on his face.

"Why am I here?" I asked, frowning.

"I found you in a creek I like going to for relaxation. You were er... topless and bloody. You've gotten a blood transfusion, stitches on your...cuts, and a pretty nasty concussion. It appears you've hit your head when you fell down."

My eyes popped open in realization. I was in a hospital, and about to miss Task Two. "Oh god, how long do I have to stay here? How long have I been here? Did I miss task two?" I frowned. A day ago, I wouldn't have cared.

"Don't worry, you've been here for about fourteen hours. You still have a pretty good chunk of time before Task Two. Until then, I recommend you work on your song. I called Taylor for you. She's going to help you on your song. Normally, we wouldn't do this, but since you have been recently traumatized and suffered a nasty concussion, we were able to pull some strings."

"Thanks Simon."

"No problem. Taylor will be here in about... five minutes."

Then, I remembered something. "Simon, I remembered something."

"Yes?"

"I don't have health insurance."

***

"You don't have WHAT!?!" Simon yelled. I winced, the sound ringing in my ears,"You better hope you win X-Factor, or strike it rich. I'll pay for it now, but you owe me."

He left, leaving me realize hurt. I had barely spoke to him for ten minutes, and he already hated me. Just like everybody else. I guess it wasn't my family's fault they hated me.

Two knocks brought me out of my self pity. A head peeked in.

"Hey, Simon I think Simon said I would be here."

"Yeah. Thanks Taylor."

"Why are you crying?"

"Wh-what?'' I wiped away tears that I didn't realize were there.

"No, tell me what's wrong."

"I don't want you to know. I barely know you."

"Whatever it is, capture it. If you don't want to tell me, show me. Right now is the perfect time to write a song. I know you probably aren't used to it, but being vulnerable on stage, in front of the world is what people like. Capture that emotion. Here," She ranted, giving me a pencil and paper.

''Thanks."

I sat there for five minutes, eyes closed, reliving the last half year: the club, the loveless life, the self pain, the escape, the dull, bleak afternoons in only my own company, my first heartbreak, and how that changed me.

Subconsciously, my hand started moving across the paper, and these words were the ones that came out:

You can play with me

Pretend to love me

Then just dump me

Keep me hoping

That I will be loved

You can say that love doesn't exist

And maybe it doesn't

But if that's true

Then you are the one that killed it

You may think you left me messed up and brokenhearted