AN: Thanks guys for the reviews.... This is probably the last story for a while. I think I just needed to get it out. Again.. if you don't want to review don't. These are just random thoughts bouncing around in my head, taking room that I do not have.
He sat in a cold with only the shadows to keep him company. A needle to his arm, a grimace on his lips. The once beautiful boy lay ruined on the floor of some dank motel. Lost he was, lost to his friends, to his family, to his career. His highs were the only thing he had left; the only thing he wanted. Since he had lost her, nothing felt good, right, whole. He remembered her beautiful smile that had faded over time, her chestnut hair growing darker with each hurt, her dark eyes growing dull with each bitter word he spoke. A groan escaped his lips as the needle was embedded into his skin, the liquid entering his blood stream, bringing some sort life to his depressed mind. But it wasn't enough, he needed more. More highs, less memories. He needed to escape.
They had loved each other. But it wasn't a lovely love; it was cruel, painful love that drove them to the brink. He drove her to the brink, pushing her into a wall until the only thing to do was fight for any type of freedom. Her escape came in blood, tears and hate. Another sigh, the needle finding home in his arm, the liquid bringing a breath to his lungs. He had found her. Her hair her halo, the blood her wings. She was an angel. An angel searching for home. A home not with him. She broke him, as he did her. But death was not an option. So he lived with the pain, pushed all those he cared for away. He resigned himself to a life of loneliness. But the loneliness became too much, created too much thought and space. She was once his addiction, so he found another. He started with pot, then coke and now heroin. She would be so disappointed. He had such potential, a talent that would be remembered. She saw that in him when no other did. She gave him hope. More. He still remembered so he needed more. The needle was his saviour, his hope for redemption.
His breathing slowed, each breath was laboured, his muscles spasmodic. His eyes were unfocused and dazed. But there was a smile on his face, a beautifully hope-filled smile. "I thought you would never come." His voice was soft, awed by the sight in front of him.
" Of course I came Chad. I love you remember." The voice was just how he remembered. The voice that haunted his dreams and created his nightmares.
"No you don't. You left me remember. You hated me, so you left me forever." His voice was desperate, panicked, pained.
"And now I forgive you." She had placed a hand on his face, a hand he could not feel but so desperately wanted to. "Go, go to sleep. There you go."
They found him hours later. A letter by his side and a picture in his hand. He had gone, gone to find his girl, his Sonshine.