Chapter Six

For the fifth night in a row, Veronica sat on her bed, crying into her hands. She wanted to see Taylor so badly...she needed his strength to take her through this. And she couldn’t have it. It wasn’t fair, how this was ending up. For all she knew, Taylor was dead and they just wouldn’t tell her that. She remembered that night, the week they’d met, (it seemed so long ago) when she’d had that horrible nightmare and he’d let her crawl into bed with him. She remembered how soothing his voice had been when he’d sung to her, and how he’d tried his very best to make her feel better. That horrible nightmare...it...it was happening. Did that mean she was going to die? What did it mean? Thinking about that only made her cry harder. Suddenly, someone sat down beside her and wrapped their arms around her. She looked up at Taylor, and gasped sharply. He grinned.
“Oh, come on, Ronnie. Don’t be afraid of me. It’s not like I’m dead or anything.”
She suddenly choked on a sob, and he stroked her face, rather apologetically.
“I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean it that way.”
She rubbed her cheek against his and sighed raggedly, whimpering slightly.
“I missed you so much, Tay. I missed you so bloody much.”
He brushed hair from her face, and kissed her gently.
“I know, Ronnie, I know. But I’m never going to let you go. I’m never going to let anything happen to you. You know that.”
She nodded a bit, to show she understood.
“Yeah, I know.”
Taylor suddenly smiled.
“I’ve been saving this for the right time...but I wanted to give it to you. Of anyone I’ve ever met, you are the one that I care about the most...” he took her hand, and dropped a ring into her palm. “I know neither of us is old enough yet, but...when you hit that all-powerful age eighteen, will you marry me?”
Veronica looked up at him, fresh tears welling up in her eyes.
“Of course I will, Tay. You knew I’d say yes...”
He put his finger over her lips, and kissed her again.
“Hush...I love you, Veronica.”
She smiled, sniffling, but happy nevertheless.
“I love you, Taylor.”
He sighed deeply.
“You don’t know what it means to me to hear you say that, do you?”
She shook her head.
“I don’t think I ever will,” she answered, sounding very mature, though she didn’t intend it. What she didn’t know, however, was that she was right...she never would know.




"It seems to me that fans of celebrities who say they are by no means obsessed and flip out royally when someone says they are are the fans who must know shampoo, toothpaste, toothbrush colour, and brand of underwear. And they say people who don't follow them but still like the celebrities aren't true fans. Isn't that ironic?"

- V. Maloney; Night Mare, author of this story.


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Chapter Seven