American Love

I hold the mic in my hands and breath in deep trying to steady my nerves. I can feel my hands slightly begin to shake and try to keep them steady. The sudden urge to vomit fills my throat and burns my chest. No, please no. I swallow it down and grip the mic tighter in my hands.

"Go on then Jessica, we haven't got all day." My teacher says loudly, causing a ripple of laughter to begin from my classmates. I climb the small stairs and stand center stage, feeling everyone's eyes burning into me. I look at them all, trying to imagine them in their underwear like Michelle had told me too. But I couldn't, instead they all sat there, staring at me like I was a bug on a windscreen. I swallowed deep, could they smell my fear?

A hand appeared in the sea of faces, a friendly wave. Michelle smiled at me, ah there, my friend was there to support me. I smiled back and put the mic in the stand and stood straight with my shoulders back. I looked past the crowd and focused on the painting of multicoloured swirls that hung on the back on the theater wall. I gave a small smile to the man that was in charge of playing the backing track and tried not to focus on everyone staring at me, but instead the music.

Singing was my passion. It always had been, ever since i could talk my mam always said i was singing.

The music began and I loved the beat of the drums as they played and echoed through me into my soul.

Another head hangs lowly

Child is slowly taken

And the violence, caused such silence

Who are we mistaken?

I could hear a slight murmur through the crowd. I guess this was a rock song, and I didn't really look like the type of girl that would be singing rock music. But I loved The Cranberries, ever since I first heard this song, I knew i had to sing it.

But you see, it's not me

It's not my family

In your head, in your head, they are fighting

With their tanks, and their bombs

And their bombs, and their guns

In your head, in your head they are crying

I tried peering into the crowd, because now I could hear full on laughter in the audience. Their faces were hidden in shadows, distorted and disfigured. What were they laughing at? What was I doing wrong?

Did I really sound that bad?

In your head, in your head

Zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie

What's in your head, in your -

I could see disgust on my teacher's face as she stormed to the music controls, trying to turn it off. I stopped singing and looked at Michelle who was sitting there shaking her head. Was this a nightmare? Was this really happening? The music stopped and I could hear everyone's laughter loud and clear now. I looked down to make sure I still had my clothes on, that had happened a few times in previous nightmare's, but I did have them on.

"What's wrong Jessie?" I heard his voice come from behind me. I turned and I saw him, Stifler was standing right behind me, his arms spread wide, not an ounce of shyness on his face or his body. Steve was a handsome man, he always had been, and he knew this. He had blonde shaggy hair that I think he spent a lot of time on in the morning to make it look like he hadn't done anything to it. He was athletic, and had very handsome features. He was the typical man you could admire from afar, especially for no one like me. But, then he would open his mouth, say something stupid and the illusion would be broken. He was a jerk. I knew he was naked, and tried my best not to look. But i couldn't help it, i glanced to quickly see his definitely not shy penis then straight back up to his face that was grinning ear to ear staring forward to his audience. "Do you like what you see?" He asked and gave it a little shake at me.