The Diary of an Emo Girl: Chapter Two.

Han's hands creep slowly up my neck and knot themselves into my hair. His lips are like irresistible candy glue as they press against mine. This sensation is fantastic...its almost sinful. I feel whole again, not like who I really am.1

I shiver as his hands move down my back and his arms hook themselves under my legs. If I try to push away, his steel grip keeps me close to him. I can feel his hard chest between the thin red shirt he wears. Then, there is no shirt. His warm chest envelops me in a blanket of love. My lips move to his rock jaw and he smiles, his brown eyes drowning me. His lips jump to mine and we are inseparable.2

Suddenly, I feel like I'm falling. I no longer see his room or anything at all. We're both in a pitch. And I'm loosing him. I see Hans's face as a mask of horror and sadness as the blackness starts to take him over. My mouth pulls into a scream but no sound slips out. I try to reach his hand but the last glimpse of his face is surrendered to the abyss.3

I wake sitting up in my bed. Choking sobs quake from my throat and I rub the tears from my face. I glance at my alarm clock through my hair for a second opinion. It reads 3:24 am. I groan through my tears and fall back into my bed. For the past week I've been having the same dream. It was only another addition to my robotic-like schedule at school and my house. My hand flips automatically toward the preset button on the clock and I set it solemnly to 7:30 am. I think to myself stubbornly that I not have four more hours to dream restlessly of the same situation. And, ironically, I do...4

I walk to school that morning from the empty apartment. My mother..well, nothing needs to be said there, and my dad passed away when I was four. So basically, its just me there. I pay for the place with my scarce paycheck and few donations from Hans. His family doesn't have to worry. They have a large history as Italian royals or something. My family, well, you can say there is none. I'll tell you that my mother is a drug addict and is rarely home to see me. When she is home, well, there's nothing I can do, really. 5

I pass Hans's house on time to see him shut the door and start the trip to school. Our high school is nothing much. Its just a little school thats convenient for all of the kids whose houses are far from the nearest A-rated school. 6

Hans spots me and almost runs until we're side by side. I can smell the sweet scent of him. Its intoxicating. "So," he says casually. "Anything new?" I shake my head silently. He doesn't seem placated so he starts again. "Have you been to the basketball games for our school? They've been doing really good." Again, another head shake. He sighs and I fear I've upset him. "Look, Chloe." He stops in front of me and stops me in my tracks. "I know there's something wrong. Tell me, please. I want to help." I murmur, "There's nothing you can do," but that seems to make him even more determined. He's ignorant and that makes me love him even more. "Chloe. That's enough. If you don't tell me what is wrong, its never going to end! Don't you understand?" A tear slips down my cheek and he wipes it off with one finger. It glistens faintly before it drops to the sidewalk, meeting its death. and that gives me hope. If my tears are consuming me, then I have to let them meet their match. Their death. "Come on," I say. "I'll tell you." 7

We both walk slowly as I tell him my life story and he listens intently. I don't know if I'm imagining his understanding or if its really happening. He nods his head as I tell him of my mother and father then stops completely when I slowly and deliberately tell him of my cutting. Without warning, he grabs one of my wrists and pushes the long sleeve off and stares in amazement of the crisscross patterns enveloping my skin. There are tears in his eyes and I wrap my arms around him. "I'm sorry," I mumble over and over. "I'm so sorry." He shakes his head. "I didn't know..that..you could do things like that to yourself," he stammers. "Chloe...don't ever..ever-" I stop him. "I know, Hans. I know. I'm sorry." He closes his eyes, and suddenly gives me a hard hug and a protective-like kiss. I'm in shock. And he doesn't care. I love him even more. And I finally know what he meant to say all those days ago. He says what he meant. "Chloe, I love you."8