Bad Influence | Teen Ink

Bad Influence

October 20, 2011
By Annmarie11_12_13 ELITE, Paramus, New Jersey
Annmarie11_12_13 ELITE, Paramus, New Jersey
109 articles 0 photos 54 comments

I know I’m bad. I know my clothes are too tight and I have an awful influence on the people around me. I know I’m a monster with my dark eyes that hold a controlling glare on anyone who is idiotic enough to look my way. I know I have power, and I know I do not control it very well.

This all started as a game. I wanted to prove to myself that I was capable of seducing any man I wanted. I wanted to toy with hearts and tear people to shreds. I wanted to use my feminine charm for evil instead of good. I wanted to lead people on to the last possible second, and then drop them like they never meant anything to me. Because they didn’t.

He wasn’t any more interesting then the next male that walked through the door, but he was the one that I felt would be the most fun to work with. I knew his strengths, and, more importantly, his weaknesses. He liked when people paid attention to him and actually seemed like they cared. I made sure to make him feel most important when he was in my presence.

He seemed to feed off of my attention, loving every minute of it. It wasn’t long before I caught him trying to catch up with me in the crowded hallways, and staying late after school to spend time with me before I left for play practice. I didn’t mind; he was only making my mission easier. I could see in his eyes that he was mine.

I let him tease me; let him feel like he was in charge once in awhile. But I never let it last for too long. He was under my spell, and I was not going to let him forget that. My hold was too strong, I was in control; there was no way I was going to let go of that.

I wasn’t going to stop my fun. I enjoyed the knowledge that I had the power to seduce whoever I wished, without falling for my own tricks. I suppose my cockiness that I was untouchable was the reason I didn’t notice at first that my heart beat was picking up speed with each passing moment I was with him. The flirting that I was sure I was immune to was doing its job on me as well as him. My skin had a sensation whenever he brushed against me, something that was unfamiliar to me. I wasn’t really sure what was going on, only that I was enjoying my game mush more than I had in the past.

I was falling into the same pattern he was. Timing when he was in the hallways so that I would ‘accidentally’ bump into him and we could talk for the few minute commute to our next class. I was beginning to love Biology for once, as that was the only class we had together and we could talk and write messages to each other when the teacher wasn’t looking. I found myself drawing on his hands, little symbols that only I knew the meaning of.

I used to draw the line when someone put their hands on my waist, but I let him. I trusted that he wouldn’t take advantage of the situation, something that was out of the ordinary for me. I tended never to trust anyone, especially those who only were supposed to serve the purpose of being pawns in my little game of seduction.

I was falling for my own spell, my own tricks. I distanced myself, pretending not to see him in the student lounge, or in the halls, or just pretending to study harder in class so he didn’t try to write me secret notes. I tried to destroy the notes I had from before, but something wouldn’t let me throw them away.

I became my own pawn in my own dangerous game. Like the hopeless imbeciles I used to play with, I didn’t know when to stop, didn’t know until it was too late to change my mind. I was stuck looking like the seductress, but really I was the one that was being seduced. I had never thought about reversing the process, as I never needed to before now. I never thought I would be able to lose control, never be able to be broken. But I was.

I wasn’t sure what was going to happen next. No one was really in control anymore, after the use of my trickery he was in no shape to do the same to me, and I had fallen for my own game. Without either of us in control, who would be the one to decide when enough was enough? Who would be the one to make sure no one got hurt enough to last the rest of our lives? I was bad, but I never left a scar that wouldn’t heal completely in time. But I didn’t have that ability anymore. All my power was gone, lost not to him, but to my own game that had taken on a mind of its own.

The author's comments:
People always seem to write like they are the victims. I wanted to see what it was like for the person on the other end of the fight. And this is what happens.

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This article has 1 comment.

on Oct. 27 2011 at 1:25 pm
Odessa_Sterling00 DIAMOND, No, Missouri
87 articles 108 photos 966 comments

Favorite Quote:
All gave some, some gave all. -War Veterans headstone.

Wow, I couldn't stop reading.  I was sad when she distanced herself from him.  It was cute and sad at the same time.  I loved it!