Sacrifices We Take For Love

• Chloe Henery, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2011

I searched the serene scene for some slight movement. The picturesque park was stunning, the oak trees stood still in the pleasant air, as the bright sun slowly rose just below the horizon line. I was sitting on a park bench while the clear blue sky gradually regained its colour. I tampered with the aroma, and lit the butt of my last cigarette. I blissfully inhaled a gulp of tobacco smoke, resting my anxiety.
I kept watching and waiting for someone, and then suddenly, I saw it. A short, dark-skinned girl was striding up the path quickly and purposefully. She was beautiful, her short, spiky hair, her denim jacket, and her leather boots creating a delicate clanging on the ground. But as she drew nearer, I could see new, dark circles under her fabulous eyes, and deep wrinkles cutting into her forehead and neck. She stopped, and I decided to speak first.
"Taylor." I murmured,
"Call me by my real name, Heath." She rolled her eyes, and then gave a harsh sigh.
"Fine then, Paloma. Now tell me what the hell this urgent matter is." She took a penetrating sigh and spoke.
"She told them. She told the cops, the bloody idiot. But I’m never scared of the cops; I’ve told you that. But… I… I need to know whether you're with me or not. Because you are bound to do something stupid and… I can't take that risk." As she focused on my tired eyes, I awkwardly looked up to hers, and felt my heart skip a beat. I was slightly awakened by her beautiful scent of peach shampoo and fresh cigarette smoke, but without warning, my stomach took its pinkie finger and swirled my insides around until I felt nauseas. A tingling feeling drained my fingertips and nose, and prickly stars came into vision in the corner of my eyes. I just felt dead, lifeless.
"Heath, are you with me or not? I need to know. Now." Paloma spoke so suddenly, I jolted a little in my seat.
"I don't know…" What an idiotic statement. 'You fool.' I thought to myself as Paloma's once brilliant eyes seemed to turn misty, and she rapidly stretched into her back-pocket to reveal a large, silver polished 11 centimetre gun. Shaking, she grabbed it with two small hands and directed it straight at my flat forehead. My golden-brown eyes suddenly widened to what seemed to be the size of golf-balls, and I tried to take a gulp of saliva, she stuttered the words:
"Th-that's not good enough f-f-for me this t-time." I suddenly realised the base of her eyes were glistening as fresh tears poured out, at the same time wet drops seemed to be cascading out from my eyes too. Every part of my body seemed to have stiffened as the barrel of the gun drifted closer and I felt myself become paler. There was just one thing on my mind,
"I love you." I attempted to mumble it as calmly as I could. She closed her tired, dark eyelids in disappointment, and then slowly opened them again to just blankly peer at my terrified face. My eyes moved from the end of the ungodly barrel of the smooth pistol to watch her move her lean, trembling fingers as she pulled back the trigger.
The last thing I saw was the beautiful sun suddenly appearing above the horizon, and a slight smile spreading across her face.