The Letter
Chapter 1
Dear Ricky,
You’re amazing. And I love you. With all my heart. I don’t know you on a personal level, but when I know about you leads me to believe you are fantastic. I’m sneaking out this Monday to go see you guys in concert. I’m so excited. Too bad I couldn't afford backstage passes. But I am in the front few rows!! Normally after concerts I’ll sit on the floor for a few hours after everyone leaves. So if you see someone there, it’s probably me!!
When I was 4 my mom died in a car crash, now my dad is a drunk. God I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. But I am. He is so rude, and hateful when he’s drunk. He’s hit me a few times. The only thing that holds me together is music. It’s a hell I live in. God I hope it gets better.
It’s muggy outside today, here in San Antonio. I guess it’s going to rain. It’ll probably rain Monday too, so bring a coat! Haha. Well, if you get this, please write me back. I’d love it. My return address is on the envelope.
Much love,
Ashley Manson.
That was the first letter I wrote to any band member; I sent it a week ago. I cried writing it. I just wanted to spill my guts out, even if he doesn’t read it. I sent it in an envelope with drawings all over it, just little stuff I had drawn. My return address was written big on the left corner of the envelope, his address in the middle. Maybe he would get it. Maybe he would reply. A girl can only dream right?
Today was the day of the concert. I threw on a black ‘Motionless in White’ tank top, blue shorts, and black Vans. I put my hair into a messy bun and did some darkish makeup. I checked myself in the mirror and smiled. It quickly faded when I saw the bruises around my arms and on my neck. It didn’t matter, I was going to have fun tonight!
I opened the window and removed the screen. It was almost dark. By now my dad would be drunk. I stepped out into the open air and began running to the venue which, thank god, was close to my house. There were people standing outside of the venue, trying to get past the bouncer. I shoved through them and handed him my ticket. He let me through, and I found my way to the front. They were playing ‘America’. I loved this song. I sang and screamed along to it. I felt as if I was the only one there, singing along to every song, smiling as I did so.
Realization hit me when I was being slammed into the rails. I put my hands in front of my stomach so I wouldn’t throw up everywhere. People behind me were moshing. I rushed back there to get in the circle. I ended up getting punched, thrown on the floor, and torn up in that pit, but holy shit was it fun. My nose was bleeding, my eyes were red, and my body ached, but I kept going. We moshed through every song until the last one, where I found myself back at the front singing along with it.
After the concert ended, I waited until everyone left, sitting there on the cold concrete floor. Patiently waiting. Maybe they’ll come out and see you, maybe Ricky got your letter and he wants to talk to you in person. I thought repeatedly. That wasn’t the case. I sat on the floor for two hours waiting, but no one came. I got up, feeling limp and lifeless; my body was in so much pain, I could hardly walk.
I waddled my way back to my house. The window was still open, the screen still off. I crawled in and went to the bathroom. I let out a sigh. That’s weird, my dad hasn’t even been in my room or anything. Something wasn’t right, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to shower, so I turned it on and stepped in. The water caressed my skin as I washed my hair and body then shaved what needed to be shaved. I got out and dried off, put my hair in a French braid, and put on my pajamas. I laid in bed, fantasizing about things that could’ve happened tonight:
Ricky going to the mic and asking if I’m there.
Ricky finding me after the show.
...
~The next day~
“Go check the mail you whore.” My dad scoffed out.
“Where were you last night?” I asked looking over at him.
“I went out. Earned us $50,000. Now go check the mail dammit.”
“That’s great dad.” I walked out to the end of our sidewalk and opened the mail box. I hadn’t checked the mail in days. I scanned over it, bills, letters for dad, more bills, advertisements. Damn, nothing from Ricky. I pouted a little and walked back inside. I handed him the mail and walked into the kitchen.
“Whatcha want for breakfast dad?” I asked.
“Eggs. Toast. Strawberry jelly on the side.” I made the toast and eggs and handed them to him. He scarfed his down as I ate mine slowly.
'Tides will bring me back to you'… My phone rang.
“Hello?” I said into the phone.
“Ashley! Hey girl, long time no talk.” My friend Olivia said into the phone.
“Haha, yeah. I have to go though. Busy day. Bye.” I said rushing off the phone.
Olivia wasn’t really my friend; I didn’t like her, but she thought she was my friend so I just went with it. I finished my eggs and washed mine and my dad’s dishes. There was a knock at the door and my dad demanded I be the one to answer it, so I did.
“Package for Ashley Manson.” The post man said.
“That’s me.” I smiled.
“Sign here.” He handed me a notepad and I signed it.
“Who the hell would be sending shit for you?” My dad hissed.
“I don’t know dad.” I replied, rushing back to my room.
I looked at the return address, or where it should be, but there wasn't one. Okay, that’s not suspicious. I opened it to find a black muscle shirt with a letter.
Dear Ashley,
I’m sorry to hear about your dad and your mom. It does get better. Everyone says it, I know, but it does. Sorry it took me so long to answer back. We’re busy haha. I’m glad you got to go to our concert though! Were you the one sitting alone after everyone left? I glanced at you for a moment. You looked like you were asleep so I didn’t want to bother you. You looked so peaceful. My return address is in this letter at the bottom because I didn’t want it to get out, so please don’t tell anyone. I don’t even know how you got it, but it’s cool that you did. No one ever has our tour bus number haha.
You’re probably wondering about the black shirt huh? Well I wore it for our first show this tour. It smells like me. You deserve it for being so strong hon. you stay strong and beautiful. It's the least I can do.
Much love,
Ricky.
I swear I just died. He answered me, this is insane! He even gave me his shirt. I picked it up and inhaled its scent. Dear god, he smelt amazing. I was never going to wash this shirt, ever. I put it on, along with a bra and shorts. It was huge on me, all the way to my knees. Either he’s a giant or I’m shorter than I thought.
You’re amazing. And I love you. With all my heart. I don’t know you on a personal level, but when I know about you leads me to believe you are fantastic. I’m sneaking out this Monday to go see you guys in concert. I’m so excited. Too bad I couldn't afford backstage passes. But I am in the front few rows!! Normally after concerts I’ll sit on the floor for a few hours after everyone leaves. So if you see someone there, it’s probably me!!
When I was 4 my mom died in a car crash, now my dad is a drunk. God I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. But I am. He is so rude, and hateful when he’s drunk. He’s hit me a few times. The only thing that holds me together is music. It’s a hell I live in. God I hope it gets better.
It’s muggy outside today, here in San Antonio. I guess it’s going to rain. It’ll probably rain Monday too, so bring a coat! Haha. Well, if you get this, please write me back. I’d love it. My return address is on the envelope.
Much love,
Ashley Manson.
That was the first letter I wrote to any band member; I sent it a week ago. I cried writing it. I just wanted to spill my guts out, even if he doesn’t read it. I sent it in an envelope with drawings all over it, just little stuff I had drawn. My return address was written big on the left corner of the envelope, his address in the middle. Maybe he would get it. Maybe he would reply. A girl can only dream right?
Today was the day of the concert. I threw on a black ‘Motionless in White’ tank top, blue shorts, and black Vans. I put my hair into a messy bun and did some darkish makeup. I checked myself in the mirror and smiled. It quickly faded when I saw the bruises around my arms and on my neck. It didn’t matter, I was going to have fun tonight!
I opened the window and removed the screen. It was almost dark. By now my dad would be drunk. I stepped out into the open air and began running to the venue which, thank god, was close to my house. There were people standing outside of the venue, trying to get past the bouncer. I shoved through them and handed him my ticket. He let me through, and I found my way to the front. They were playing ‘America’. I loved this song. I sang and screamed along to it. I felt as if I was the only one there, singing along to every song, smiling as I did so.
Realization hit me when I was being slammed into the rails. I put my hands in front of my stomach so I wouldn’t throw up everywhere. People behind me were moshing. I rushed back there to get in the circle. I ended up getting punched, thrown on the floor, and torn up in that pit, but holy shit was it fun. My nose was bleeding, my eyes were red, and my body ached, but I kept going. We moshed through every song until the last one, where I found myself back at the front singing along with it.
After the concert ended, I waited until everyone left, sitting there on the cold concrete floor. Patiently waiting. Maybe they’ll come out and see you, maybe Ricky got your letter and he wants to talk to you in person. I thought repeatedly. That wasn’t the case. I sat on the floor for two hours waiting, but no one came. I got up, feeling limp and lifeless; my body was in so much pain, I could hardly walk.
I waddled my way back to my house. The window was still open, the screen still off. I crawled in and went to the bathroom. I let out a sigh. That’s weird, my dad hasn’t even been in my room or anything. Something wasn’t right, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to shower, so I turned it on and stepped in. The water caressed my skin as I washed my hair and body then shaved what needed to be shaved. I got out and dried off, put my hair in a French braid, and put on my pajamas. I laid in bed, fantasizing about things that could’ve happened tonight:
Ricky going to the mic and asking if I’m there.
Ricky finding me after the show.
...
~The next day~
“Go check the mail you whore.” My dad scoffed out.
“Where were you last night?” I asked looking over at him.
“I went out. Earned us $50,000. Now go check the mail dammit.”
“That’s great dad.” I walked out to the end of our sidewalk and opened the mail box. I hadn’t checked the mail in days. I scanned over it, bills, letters for dad, more bills, advertisements. Damn, nothing from Ricky. I pouted a little and walked back inside. I handed him the mail and walked into the kitchen.
“Whatcha want for breakfast dad?” I asked.
“Eggs. Toast. Strawberry jelly on the side.” I made the toast and eggs and handed them to him. He scarfed his down as I ate mine slowly.
'Tides will bring me back to you'… My phone rang.
“Hello?” I said into the phone.
“Ashley! Hey girl, long time no talk.” My friend Olivia said into the phone.
“Haha, yeah. I have to go though. Busy day. Bye.” I said rushing off the phone.
Olivia wasn’t really my friend; I didn’t like her, but she thought she was my friend so I just went with it. I finished my eggs and washed mine and my dad’s dishes. There was a knock at the door and my dad demanded I be the one to answer it, so I did.
“Package for Ashley Manson.” The post man said.
“That’s me.” I smiled.
“Sign here.” He handed me a notepad and I signed it.
“Who the hell would be sending shit for you?” My dad hissed.
“I don’t know dad.” I replied, rushing back to my room.
I looked at the return address, or where it should be, but there wasn't one. Okay, that’s not suspicious. I opened it to find a black muscle shirt with a letter.
Dear Ashley,
I’m sorry to hear about your dad and your mom. It does get better. Everyone says it, I know, but it does. Sorry it took me so long to answer back. We’re busy haha. I’m glad you got to go to our concert though! Were you the one sitting alone after everyone left? I glanced at you for a moment. You looked like you were asleep so I didn’t want to bother you. You looked so peaceful. My return address is in this letter at the bottom because I didn’t want it to get out, so please don’t tell anyone. I don’t even know how you got it, but it’s cool that you did. No one ever has our tour bus number haha.
You’re probably wondering about the black shirt huh? Well I wore it for our first show this tour. It smells like me. You deserve it for being so strong hon. you stay strong and beautiful. It's the least I can do.
Much love,
Ricky.
I swear I just died. He answered me, this is insane! He even gave me his shirt. I picked it up and inhaled its scent. Dear god, he smelt amazing. I was never going to wash this shirt, ever. I put it on, along with a bra and shorts. It was huge on me, all the way to my knees. Either he’s a giant or I’m shorter than I thought.
Notes
First chapter c:
Whatcha guys think?!
i love this story so much. its very addicting
1/10/16