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-Alie.

(Source: thirty-seconds-to-evanescence)

Do we create a modern myth? Do we imagine half of it?

The alarm on my nightstand was beeping at me. Fluttering my eyes open, I looked at the time. 7.45 in the morning, a Monday. A Monday with grey skies and pouring rain. It was always raining. The sun seemed to have vanished completely, plunging the world into never-ending bitterness.

I sighed as I sat up. I hadn’t bothered to shut my alarm up. Slowly, I got dressed and packed all the things I needed for work – pen, paper, glasses, phone, iPod, a picture of my favourite band, 30 Seconds To Mars. After knowing I had packed everything, I took a look in the mirror. My short brown hair was wavy and alive with volume. My green eyes were judging – people had always said that my gaze was deadly. I didn’t care.

Sighing once more, I hung my bag over my shoulder, slipped my flats on then headed off to work. I arrived at work a few minutes later on foot. I sat in my usual place by the window, next to the coffee maker and the fan that was never used and covered in dust. I looked around, already bored, and turned on my computer. Jared Leto, the singer and guarist of 30 Seconds To Mars appeared on my screen. He was looking straight at me, and I blushed. He had the effect on me, like any other Echelon women out there. He was 40 – and didn’t look it – I was 29.

Me and Casey arrived at our destination. It was a small café outside of town. It wasn’t the most great-looking place, but it served the best cheeseburgers I had ever tasted in my whole life. A smile crept on my face as I imagined the taste of it.

“Are you even listening to me?” Casey interrupted my thoughts of cheeseburgers.  I nodded slowly.

“I bet you’re not. I bet you’re thinking of that Jay-Z guy you like so much.” She shook her head but she was trying to hide a smile. “Jared Leto,” I corrected, blushing automatically.

“See what I mean, Alyson? You’re always thinking of him and, I don’t doubt this, I bet you image yourself fucking him.” I widened my eyes and shook my head quickly. “No, Casey! I’m not that extreme. Seriously?” Truth was, I always imagined myself with him in that way. Ever since watching Hurricane, I’ve pictured myself as that girl. The slave to his desires.

I slammed my front door shut, got into my night clothes, took off my makeup, brushed my hair and laid my head on the pillow. The Jared Leto look-a-like ran through my mind as I closed my eyes. It had to be him. No one could look that much like Jared. As I drifted into my dream state, my bedroom door opened. The footsteps were hushed on the carpet, but I knew straight away, it was him.

He was in my bedroom. He was going to be mine. The look in his blue eyes told me he was going to fuck me like the devil.