Green blues

By Bryan

You are sixteen, prom time is nigh, and
your moss suit needs watering.
The way the light catches it, you swear
there are gold flecks in it. But it's been
getting browner since you first hung it
in the downstairs shower, away from the creeping
soap scum blanketing the bath between your room
and your sister's.
You've been spending all your time trying
to care for it but what the hell do you know
about horticulture?

Prom Transportation

By Marcy, who has been watching way too much "Super Sweet Sixteen" latey and thinks those spoiled girls need a dose of reality.

Rick Masters asked me to the prom – I was floored! I of course said yes and I skipped school the very next day to find a dress. Daddy gave me his credit card and told me to get whatever I want – like I wouldn’t anyway! I found the most awesome dress ever – it was deep purple satin with a barely there neckline by some designer I can’t pronounce. And I don’t care – I just loved it. It perfectly shows off my new boobs that Daddy gave me for Christmas. I found the perfect shoes to go with it – only $750, a real steal. And the jewelry – oh, god, the jewelry. Diamonds, that’s all I can say. $15,000 worth of sparkle, all on me! I wanted to wear something that would match the tiara when I won prom queen. And I knew they were going to vote me prom queen because I had thrown the most amazing Sweet Sixteen party and invited the entire school earlier that year. They owed me prom queen.

So prom night came, and I was getting dressed after a luxurious spa day to relax from school that week. Daddy had arranged for a Hummer Limo to pick up me and my friends - I was so stoked!! I put on my dress and my amazing jewelry, and my cheap shoes, and checked my hair one last time – making sure the updo had enough room for a tiara in front of it. And when I opened the door to my room …

…I don’t know how to describe it. It was like the house wasn’t even there. Instead there was a dark, torch lit cave. I looked back into my room, which looked perfectly normal. I thought maybe Daddy was playing some kind of practical joke on me, so I walked out and closed the door behind me. I called for him, but nothing changed. And when I turned around to go back in my room, the door was gone. It was just solid rock. I walked through the cave, crying off my mascara in the process. My heel broke on my cheap-ass shoes. I had to find the way out. And I didn’t get any cell phone reception wherever I was. But I have to say, my diamonds sparkled amazingly in the torchlight.

At last I found the mouth of the cave, and there were a group of scummy looking guys sitting around a fire. Three of them wore furs, and had large weapons sitting next to them. One of them wore a grey cloak, and looked at me as if he had seen a ghost. I told them who I was, that I was lost, and that I don’t know how to get home. They spoke in some sort of guttural language I didn’t understand. The scummy guys with the weapons looked like they were going to attack me, but the guy in the grey hood stopped them.

That was 5 years ago. I’m now 20 years old, and I don’t think I’ll ever make it home again. The tribe that adopted me claims I’m some sort of good luck omen. They feed me well and shelter me. I even understand their language now, mostly. But I miss Daddy, and my friends, and I wonder if Rick Masters thinks I stood him up. He had the prettiest green eyes.

Nobody means maybe

When Lisa Hunt had politely told him maybe, he was sure that it meant no. It wasn’t just that he woke up thinking about her every day, day dreamed about her during all of his classes, thought of her before he went to sleep and then dreamed about her all night. It was that nobody said maybe unless they meant, “No, but don’t make a scene.” Why would she want to go with him any way? She was perfect and he was lame.

So he had agreed to DJ the dance. Looking at Senior Prom as a gig took some of the sting out of it. Instead of spending all of his money of corsages, overpriced dinners and a shared limo he would rake in a sizable bundle of cash which he could put toward that used Pontiac in the Autotrader. He might be able to snag the car just after he passed his drivers test. It wasn’t a complete disaster. He might even sneak in some Goth or Acid rock and freak out the yuppie clones.

The theme song from Trailer Park Boys wafted up from his hip and he looked down at his cell Text message? Who sent him text messages? Thumbing a few buttons he pulled it up. “Maybe = Yes!” he read with a bolt of adrenaline. She said yes! The girl of his dreams was going with him to Prom, this was the best day – his elation incinerated instantly – and I’m the DJ!

Shit!

-BriHack