"Silver Stars"

She held the sharp blade above the flickering flame of the candle as the wax ran down in clumps to the carpeted floor. Her long, stringy hair hung in her eyes, but she could not see it for the haze of tears. The salty drips left blackened trails behind them from mascara running down her pallid cheeks as she cried. She dug her fingers into the carpet and clutched the fibers in her grasp as she suppressed a scream of fear and pain. She absently fingered the lace hem on her violet silk skirt as the tears rolled down her snow-white cheeks. She stared at the photo in front of her and choked back a sob. The boy's eyes stared back at her, full of life even in a photograph. His face was pale, but darkened by the somber expression of his Kohl-lined eyes and his ebony lips, parted in perfection as he stared at her. Her eyes once again filled with tears as she gazed at the photo, and she lowered her head into her hands and sobbed silently.

How often had he whispered words of reassurance to her? How often had he held her hand and told her things would be okay, that they would get away from all the pain and sorrow she had? How often did she trust him with her body, her mind, her soul? These thoughts swam around her head like a sea of ink, and the darkness began to drown her fragile mind. She cried and cried; yet the tears would not stop coming. She felt as though she would cry until her red, raw eyes dripped blood.

"Darrell…" she whispered softly, her fingers going to the photo and softly tracing the outline of his long, dark hair as it fell over his face and down his throat. "I need you…" she muttered as she ran her fingertips over his lips, closing her eyes to feel their sensation through the photo in her mind just one more time.

The tears still flowed as she lay down on the carpet, staring up at the ceiling and the stars he had painted there for her that night they hadn't left each other's sides. "I paint what I see," he had replied when she had asked why he had wanted to paint stars for her. "These are the stars in your eyes. The stars that we will go to together, where we can be safe forever…" She wrapped her arms tightly around herself and shivered with fear that was building inside her like a wall, shutting her weak and lonely soul off from the world a little more. She closed her eyes and her sobs slowed, her breathing slowed, and she drifted into a restless slumber.

She was lying on the bed when she opened her eyes. At first there was a terrible feeling of confusion, then she felt the pit of emptiness in her stomach try to swallow her whole again. But a sound brought all her fears to a halt. The soft sound of someone else's breathing next to her. She felt the soft rise and fall of a ribcage pressed tightly to her body, and felt a warm arm around her stomach, embracing her protectively. She felt breath warm on her neck and a chin rested gently in the hollow of her collarbone. She smiled softly and groped to find the hand on her belly. She took it in hers and squeezed it gently, letting her fingers caress the smoothness of the skin on the hand she held.

She felt a movement behind her and heard a soft yawn beside her ear from the face that rested on her shoulder. She rolled herself over, never leaving the warmth of the arm around her, and faced the body lying against hers.

"Good morning angel," Darrell whispered softly, his lips parting in a perfect smile. She looked deep into his dark eyes and saw the love there, and she felt safe at once in his warm embrace.

He reached up and gently brushed a long blonde hair from her forehead. She shivered a bit from the touch, loving the sensation of his fingers against her face. His smile grew and he pulled her closer to him. It was only then she noticed they were both fully clothed. Nothing had happened between their two bodies, only the warm, comforting, protective embrace of a caring friend. That comforted her even more as he held her close to him, and she knew that he would never harm her.

He gently kissed her cheek and rested his head on the pillow, his eyes focused intently on hers. She smiled, and his eyes twinkled.

"Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are?" he asked, glancing over her ivory face.

She felt her cheeks grow warm, and glanced downwards. Darrell's smile grew even larger and he chuckled softly to himself.

"Beauty and modesty… what a combination."

He put his hand to her chin and gently raised her face so he could look her in the eyes. In his beautiful azure eyes she saw all the moments they had shared together… all the times he had talked her out of suicide… all the times he had wiped away her tears after a bad breakup or a fight with her father… all the times he had dabbed at the blood on her face and clothes after the thrashing her father inflicted on her…all the love that he had for this little girl he had barely known when he had saved her from herself. She didn't understand his love, or why he cared about her at all, but she knew that if the time came, she would give her life for him.

He moved his face forward and delicately kissed her tender lips with his, a gentle, loving kiss that only a true friend could ever create. She kissed him back softly, knowing that nothing would ever come of this kiss but a friendship that would last from now till Armageddon, perhaps even longer…

He cradled her in his arms and whispered soft words to her for hours, her head resting gently on his chest, her eyes closed as he stroked her hair. She had never felt so safe, never felt so at home anywhere else before. She let him hold her until she fell asleep again, the most wonderful, relaxed sleep she had ever had. Though she had not slept peacefully in months, Darrell's soft, soothing voice and his delicate caress made it easy for her to drift off and dream sweet dreams of other days…

When she opened her eyes she was lying on the soft carpet of the floor of her bedroom. The warmth against her body from his was gone, the feeling of serenity and security vanished like a summer breeze. Tears filled her eyes and she bolted up into a sitting position, her knees drawn tight to her chest. She faced the photo and broke down into sobbing, her breathing ragged and heaving as she stared into those beautiful eyes that had been taken from her. Why couldn't he have stayed home that night? Why did she call and make him walk over to be with her? How could she have been so selfish? That one car, one drunken bastard behind the wheel of a death machine on the road to hell… one person in the wrong place at the wrong time… She couldn't bear to think of the last thing Darrell had said to her…

"Angel, we'll be alright. I'm here with you, I am with you always…"

Her vision blurred as the tears ran from her eyes like never ending, burning waterfalls that stung her face as they trickled down her cheeks and off her chin into puddles on her dress. The face in the photo became a blur, the candle flames smeared together in one solid ray of light, and she stared at it for a long time as the tears flowed, feeling so selfish and ignorant that she felt she no longer deserved the pity she gave herself.

As she stared into the light, she heard a soft sound behind her.

"Angel… I am with you always…"

Her heart leapt. Darrell's familiar voice spoke those words, and she spun around to wrap her arms around him and never let go…

But there was nothing. Not even a shadow or a faint flicker of light to show he had been there. Only the dark chasm of her room, and the shimmering silver paint of the stars on the walls.

Her eyes closed and she lowered her head to her knees and sobbed. He was gone. She had killed him. She had made him go out that night to soothe her after another of her father's drunken beatings. She was so weak that she had made him die for her.

She glanced down and through the pool of her tears she saw the razorblade, sitting on the floor, twinkling in the glow of the candles. Her fingers reached out and she touched it gently, picked it up and cradled it in her hands. The metal was cold in her palm, and she traced the sharp edge with a gentle fingertip. Her eyes focused on the photo lying on the floor between the candles, and she clutched the blade in her fingers and raised it to her chin.

"Darrell… I'm sorry… I love you always… I will be with you soon…"

She touched one hand to the photo, her fingers pressed against Darrell's ebony lips and with the other hand carefully, slowly, pressed the blade against her throat. The artery spilt easily and blood poured down her neck and over her dress as she collapsed on the floor.

As her blood poured out over the carpet, over the puddles of candle wax and spent tears, over the edges of the worn photo, she heard a voice…

"I am with you always angel…"

And she took Darrell's hand and walked home...