Harlequin Romance

• Chelsea Moss, Grade 12
• Short Story
• 2008

She stood at the doorway staring out into the ocean with her envious green eyes. She stood waiting in the heated summer, she stood there for him.

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Sullen he walks towards his room and hits the play button so frequently used on his stereo. It makes him smirk as his father follows close behind. His father turns it down and walks away. He wonders what makes his father believe he will not turn it up again, just like every other day. Yet for all the things his father cannot see in this room he is greatful. Not only greatful of what he hides, but also that it is hidden well. He would give anything to tell his father it could be worse, or even that the music should be the least of his worries in this room. But he bites his tongue and lets his father continue on into the kitchen.

He pulls his guitar from behind his desk. Hidden inside a lovely treat, just one of those many things his father should be worried about. He reaches into his guitar and pulls out a ziplock bag (a great invention from his point of view, not to mention the thousands of other drug users who agree) whilst saying "Just a little something to take off the edge, just a little white pill, just a little white pill to make this room not still", "Just one little white pill," he repeats and swallows. "In half an hours time I will be riding on a silver cloud." He added giggling.

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She waits because he told her to, and yes, he sounded fine. Could there be something to be worried about, or is this just a surprise?

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Gradually he feels the burst of energy he longed for, so he gets ready for his visit. He knows she is waiting because he told her to. But he has no clue of what to say. He comes bearing a gift, a smile so rarely seen. She greets him with a kiss but suddenly his mood changes. He slides his hands around her waist hugging her tightly, his face away from hers hiding the single tear that escaped in his shame.

To be continued...


“I can’t do this anymore, not with you… anymore”, at first he spoke so quickly and quite loudly but ended so softly and slowly. He almost stopped dead in his tracks and began to cry as he saw the glisten in her eyes fade to black. He didn’t know what else to do and before he could even begin to think he started again “I can’t because, well I just don’t feel it anymore. Do you still feel it? I can’t because I don’t have the will anymore. I j-just don’t and I just can’t.” He added taking a loud noticeable swallow, “I still want to talk to you and I want you to know I’m sorry.” With this, he stopped and he could hear nothing. It was that deafening silence he had heard of but never experienced, until this moment. It felt as though he had died but not known it. He turned his head to face her for the first time since looking into her eyes and saw nothing, this was not the girl he had greeted.

He noticed her look up to meet his gaze and then felt the burn of her pain as she hung her head and tears fell like rain.

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“So much for strength and dignity”, she thinks to herself. She feels his stare upon her hair; she feels the confusion and their diffusion. Her memories flood into her mind like an explosion of poems, dreams and photographs. Roses and drugs, hugs and poses, love and hate. She stares into his eyes, no longer with tears in her own “It will be okay, we will get over it”, she states but then begins to wish she could speak the truth.

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He tells her it’s over. Then rushes home, his body pumping and full of drugs his eyes full of tears but his heart full of fear. He did not make it home that night, his body tangled and his life without sight. He told her goodbye and now only god will know why.