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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Romance/Love · #1562557
I love the name 'Chris'. :]
I gazed at him from across the room, making myself absolutely sure that he wasn’t looking at me, too. I sighed, knowing that now he probably wouldn’t look at me as he had before ever again. It was my fault, really. He had done nothing wrong. It was me that was to blame. If I had been in his position, I would have acted in the same way. Still, even after my actions he seemed so clear-headed. He was standing there with a group of a few girls and another guy. While immersed in my thoughts, I almost didn’t notice him look over at me. Almost. But I did notice. And the look he gave me was, as I thought, nothing like the ones he had been giving me earlier today. He had a rather disgusted look on his face, and with good reason, as I realized I had been staring at him for some time. I looked away. I wished the music in the room which we occupied wasn’t so loud, so maybe I could hear what he was saying about me. I again glanced at him, but this time, out of the corner of my eye. He still had the same disgusted look on his face that he had before, but he was no longer looking at me. He was speaking to a girl with dark, curly hair: Clarisse. I hated her. God, how I hated her. I usually don’t have such negative feelings about people, but it’s almost impossible not to when one points out your flaws every time you walk past them. Clarisse looked at me, sneered, then looked back at him. She said something, then he said something, then they looked at me and laughed. I hated the fact that my once best friend was now not defending me from Clarisse as he had before, but adding more fuel to her insults. I wished so badly that I could take back the entire night. I wished that I had just not come to this stupid party. The music silenced itself as the song ended, and in that moment I heard someone call my friend’s name.

“Noah!” She called. He looked over, as did I. The one calling him was named Meghan. She didn’t hate me, but she was fairly neutral, mostly, because she was Noah’s close friend, and it’s not good to make enemies with your friends’ friends. Meghan motioned for Noah to come over to her, which he did. To my displeasure, Clarisse followed him. Sometime between when Meghan had called Noah and when he got there, the music started up again. I don’t really remember too well when it was.

Meghan had a friendly expression on her face, and as soon as Noah was next to her, I saw her mouth move very quickly, and she began to jump up and down. Noah smiled softly at her, but his expression soon changed, and he looked over at me. Upon noticing this, Meghan and Clarisse did the same. I didn’t bother looking away this time. Meghan gave Noah a strange look, before saying something to him. Still staring at me, he replied to her. She got a shocked expression on her face, and I guessed that he must have just told her what I had done earlier that night. Meghan shook her head, then looked to the ground, and seemed to say something to herself. Soon, however, she lost the pained expression which had been occupying her face up until that point, and she cocked her head at Noah and said something to him, which I figured must have been a question, because he nodded his head, and then got the same pained expression on his face that was on Meghan’s moments ago.

Watching the three of them talk about what I knew was me was too hard. I stood up, and as I turned my back to them, I could feel the six eyes piercing into me.

I didn’t know where else to go to be alone but the kitchen. It was, as far as I knew, my only safe haven from the accusations which were being spread about me. I absentmindedly walked into the party host’s kitchen. I knew the layout of the house well. After all, I had been friends with the party’s host since I started school. Noah was really the only friend I had; the other acquaintances I had made since then had willfully detached all relations with me. I didn’t blame them. If I weren’t myself, I wouldn’t want to hang out with me either.

I walked over to the stepping stool which Noah’s mother used to reach high shelves, and I sat down. Noah’s mother was short, with blonde, straight hair. She had green eyes, and soft features. Noah had inherited almost all of his beauty from her. They were all too similar. Other than the fact that Noah had inherited his father’s height and eyes, the two were almost identical.

Damn it. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Even after what happened, his reaction, I still couldn’t get him out of my head. I suppose that’s why it all happened the way it did – because of my undeniable attraction to him. I couldn’t help it. Isn’t it only natural to love the only thing you have? I suppose not, if the two of you are the same sex. But…could it really be that strange? I didn’t think it could be, but if my darling Noah thought it so, than it was likely to be so.

These thoughts brought tears to my eyes. I couldn’t believe it was wrong to love someone. If Juliet had been a man, would Romeo not have acted out his love? I suppose not, as homosexuality was more frowned upon then than it is now. But still…how could I not think of my Noah as beautiful, when it was so obvious to females that he was? Was it not obvious to all the men around him as well? I suppose it didn’t really matter whether it really was strange or not; all that mattered was that my Noah thought it so.

Basically, my life was pointless.

I wiped my eyes on my wrists and stood up. I walked over to the drawer where Noah’s mother kept the butcher knives.

Not long later, I was ready. I just needed to confirm that Noah was, too.

I concealed the short knife in my pocket, and retreated from my haven. I marched as quickly as I could across the living room to the DJ, and ordered him to stop playing. I told him Noah had told me to tell him. The DJ stopped the music. Everyone looked over to the area where the DJ and I were standing, but I didn’t stand there with him more than a second before hurrying over to Noah, who had seen me tell the DJ to turn the music off.

“Chris, what the Hell?” Noah said, glaring at me. I was about to speak, but Clarisse cut me off. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, you clingy, perverted faggot? What’s wrong with you?” I tried not to listen to her, as I only wanted to speak to Noah, but I felt my eyes tear up a bit. I tried to ignore it, and Noah looked away from me.

Meghan was the first to speak after Clarisse. “Why did you tell the DJ to turn the music off, Chris?” She seemed less angry than the other two. I looked at her, and then looked to the floor. “I’d like to speak to Noah…” I barely managed to force the words out of myself. “Whatever you want to say in front of him, you can say in front of us. You probably just want to be alone with him so you can fucking molest him again,” Clarisse said with a sneer. Noah looked at her in shock. She looked back at him and said, “What? It’s not my fault that he’s a horny little fag.” By this point, I was squeezing my eyes shut to prevent the tears, but to no avail. “Clarisse…he didn’t…” I heard Noah start. “Yes he did! You told me yourself!” She interjected. “Chris, just leave. None of us want to see your ugly face anymore, so just go away, okay?” She fininshed. That was what I needed to hear. I lifted my head up and opened my eyes quickly, revealing my tears to everyone, but I didn’t care about that. I retrieved the knife from my pocket, and I saw the horror on Noah’s face as he watched me ram the object into my temple. The pain was almost immobilizing, but I managed to pull the knife out of my head, only to ram it in again. I could no longer see, but I heard a shriek that sounded like Meghan, and as I pulled it out one more time, I heard Noah’s voice, just before the knife hit my brain. “Chris, I lo-”

I didn’t get to hear what he was going to say.
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