The Cliff

He didn’t exist.

My boyfriend, my whole reason for getting out of bed in the morning, was... gone. Just like that, he didn’t exist anymore.

Only yesterday we had lain on his bed, his brilliantly sculpted body pressed gently up against mine as our lips pressed together in perfect ecstasy. His tongue had gently prised open my teeth, searching for mine as he slowly ran his beautiful hand upwards from my hip, along my ribcage and finally resting gently against my face. I had never been happier than to be held in the arms of a God like him.

And now he was gone...

Monday

The waves crashed against the cliff sending an explosion of salty spray up the sheer face of the cliff and against Chris’ legs, which dangled over the edge.  Chris loved this spot, it was one of the few spots he could be himself and be by himself, just thinking. It was here that Chris entertained fantasies of what life could be like if he told someone, anyone at all, about who he was. It killed him, putting on the daily façade of happiness when all he wanted to do was curl up into a ball and scream until the world went away. But here, on this cliff, Chris felt happiness and it wasn’t a mask. Here, he was able to admit to himself what he was and what he felt. There was no lying to anyone to pacify them here, Chris could just be Chris.

But being himself wasn’t enough; it was a wonderful feeling, but being himself, alone, was almost as painful as stretching his face into the mask of empty happiness that he wore every day. Chris was sick of being alone, sick of having to work through everything life threw at him without a single person to lean on. Most people turned to their friends but how could Chris? The only friend he had was him. And turning to his parents was out of the question.  They didn’t want to know about his problems, theirs were so much more important, their lives so much harder than Chris’. How on earth could his seventeen year old life be as difficult as theirs? Chris didn’t have to work and put up with an unstable marriage did he?

Chris felt tears welling up in his eyes and blinked furiously for a few minutes, trying to control them. But he couldn’t, this was all just getting way too much for him to handle. The tears stung as they rolled down his face and joined the salty ocean below.  Would they even notice if Chris just ‘slipped’ off the edge of the cliff? Would his parents just assume he’d done this to spite them, to make their lives harder? It wouldn’t have surprised Chris at all if they did think that. Even in his own mind, Chris sounded bitter, saying all this about those who ‘loved’ him but it was reality. Chris hid himself behind all his masks, creating false depths to his character that would lead anyone who tried to get near him away from the truth of who he was...what he was.

Chris came from a coastal town where everyone fitted their expected roles perfectly and Chris knew that he couldn’t tell the deeply Christian people of the town who he was. So Chris sat on the cliff and cried. He cried for not being able to change who he was, he cried for being alone and he screamed at the ocean for everyone who would hate him for who he was.



The sun was touching the horizon by the time Chris had started the walk back home, back to the tense silence and the angry glances that screamed abuse at the receivers, back to the mask of happiness and life.  Living like this, constantly lying to himself and everyone around him was slowly breaking Chris apart. Some days he would be unable to even hold a conversation with anyone -especially not him- because Chris couldn’t contain the urge to just let someone know what was happening in his head. Sometimes he wanted to stop seeing the images that came crashing in whenever he closed his eyes, he just wanted to stop feeling what he felt. It made him feel wrong, it made Chris hate himself and everyone around him, and Chris knew that the only way out was the cliff.  Suicide crossed Chris’ mind on an almost weekly basis but he, unlike the majority of people who thought of suicide, didn’t refrain from it out of a sense of cowardice, Chris did it out of a sense of pride. He was too strong to let other people’s hatred completely destroy him. Chris may cry himself to sleep some nights, he might hide himself from the world and lie to everyone he knows, but Chris was not going to give up on himself, not whilst he still lived.

He was the reason Chris walked along this overgrown trail out to the cliff, he was the reason Chris couldn’t show people who he was, he was the reason that Chris was broken into pieces on the inside, like shattered glass. His name was Zac and he was, in short, amazing. He had shaggy brown hair and a shy smile that made Chris’ heart race every time he saw it. Chris’ feelings towards Zac may have almost ruined his ability to connect with anyone, but the hole that they created in him was filled by the attraction and love Chris felt for Zac. He was one of the typical guys, the type that work out, the type that likes and knows stuff about cars, they are the sort of guys that have a laid back nature and talk to girls easily. They were the type of guys Chris had always hated, until the year before, when Zac and Chris were in the same P.E class.  There weren’t many other guys in the class so the few that were in the class ignored their usually strict social barriers and gravitated towards each other. Zac and Chris started becoming friends; they started talking whenever they ran into each other around school and developed inside jokes. Whenever Chris and Zac would talk around Zac’s other friends they would be given weird looks, but Chris didn’t really care, he was thoroughly enjoying the friendship, it was one of the first good ones he had had since coming to High School, and things with Chris’ parents had become so bad that he was glad to have the distraction of a friend.

Chris first realised that he had feelings for Zac when they did swimming in P.E. It took Chris a great deal of effort to take his eyes off Zac’s muscular chest when they were standing around the pool waiting for the teachers instructions. At first Chris just thought it was weird, but when Zac commented on how hot one of the girls looked in a bikini and Chris felt a pang of jealousy, he knew what it was. Chris lived in a small, deeply Christian town and he had been raised to be anti-gay. The idea of having feelings for another guy had made Chris sick, and the realisation that he did have feelings for another guy made him want to throw up. That day was the first time Chris ever went to the cliff. He had sat on that cliff for hours, trying so hard to come to terms with what he was feeling. But he couldn’t.

The next day Chris avoided Zac as much as possible, in the classes they had together he sat on the opposite side of the room, but as hard as he tried, Chris couldn’t take his mind off him, even from the other side of the classroom he watched him, noticing all the things about him that made him attractive. That night was the first night Chris cried himself to sleep.



Chris rounded the corner of the track and saw it, his house. Not his ‘home,’ that was the cliff, this was just where he resided. Chris quietly opened the gate and walked up to the front door, placing his ear against it gently. There was no noise coming from inside, which was good, it meant that the fighting hadn’t started yet. There was hope that he wouldn’t get screamed at as soon as he stepped over the threshold, that maybe he would just receive a cold stare with a few clipped words before being ignored again.

Chris opened the door and walked past the kitchen doorway and towards the stairs that led up to his bedroom. As expected, the act of walking past the doorway made his mum turn and give him a cold stare.

“Where have you been?” She made the question sound like he was a naughty five year old who had come in covered in mud, “Never mind, dinner will be in half an hour. Go on, get out of my sight.”

Chris did as he was asked; he kept on walking without giving a response. When Chris reached his room he entered and gently closed the door. Slamming it, or even giving the slightest hint that he was closing it violently led to his parents assuming that he was angry at them, and thus a rage-filled lecture would ensue about how ungrateful he was for everything they gave him. Chris had learnt that silent was the safest way to be; silent about his actions, silent about his opinions, silent about his feelings; silent about everything. Chris let out a sigh as he moved across the room and fell onto his bed. He lay so that his feet were still flat on the floor but his back was on the bed and he was looking up at the ceiling, his eyes following the roses carved into it, trying not to think about Zac. Chris thought that if he could manage one minute without Zac filling his mind then maybe tomorrow he would manage two minutes, and maybe he would eventually be able to live life without Zac intruding on his thoughts. But it didn’t seem likely.



Even though Chris had mostly come to terms with what he felt, the awareness that other people hated it, in particular knowing that Zac hated it, tore him apart inside. How could he ever be comfortable and be himself around people if they only ever saw a lie?

“Well?!”

Chris’ father’s voice broke into his thoughts. Chris made some excuse about listening to music, to which his father replied:

“I don’t care, dinner’s ready, get your selfish arse downstairs now!” He looked Chris up and down, grunted to himself and slammed the door shut.

Chris lifted himself off the bed and slowly walked downstairs to the dinner table, to the sharp tapping of knife and fork against the cold china plate, to the silent anger that hung over the table like a suffocating cloud of poison. But worst of all were the lies; not only Chris’ lies, but his parents. They had both had affairs, they had both lied about it, yet for some reason they hated each other for the affairs, but refused to divorce each other, because that was against Gods law. It had reached the stage where they didn’t even talk, they didn’t sleep in the same room and Chris seriously believed they were just doing this to make his life worse. 

Chris survived dinner by employing his usual routine; looking down at his plate and not directing his eyes towards his parents for any reason whatsoever. After dinner Chris crawled straight into bed and disappeared into his thoughts and, as usual, wondered what it would be like to be normal, if such a thing existed. From conversations he’d overheard throughout everyday life he was aware that no one who was socially accepted spent their afternoons sitting on the edge of a cliff and they didn’t have parents that hated their son more than the Devil. Normal people had happy families, their parents loved them and each other, they had nice cars to drive around in, and they hung out with their friends or studied in the afternoon. It was here, under the covers, where Chris would often toy with the idea of telling the truth tomorrow, and not answering the usual question “What did you do yesterday?” with a lie, but with the truth that he’d balled his eyes out and thought about jumping off a cliff. But no, they wouldn’t really care; it would just make life awkward. Chris imagined what it would be like to honestly answer that clichéd question of who he ‘liked.’ Just imagining the look on everyone’s faces made him want to both laugh and cry at the same time. The tears won. Chris covered his mouth with the pillow to silence the sobs and after a while he drifted off into sleep.

Tuesday

I awoke to the sound of someone trying to break my bedroom door down and my sister calling out that it was time to get up. I rolled over and groaned something that was meant to be “I am awake” but it came out more as “armour walk.” I tried to focus on my sister, but sleep kept trying to pull me back under.  As usual, the first thing that came to mind was Chris. I felt so lost; I hated this feeling, wondering always if he knew I had feelings for him, wondering if he had them for me and then knowing deep down that of course he didn’t. I was his friend and a guy and that was all he would see me as.

“Come on Zac! I am making pancakes for breakfast!” Emily said, breaking into my thoughts. I groaned some gibberish in response and thankfully that satisfied her. Emily was my 22 year old sister who was apparently very attractive, however being her brother, I never really saw it. My stomach rumbled as I thought about food, so I dragged myself out of bed and went to walk out of my room and downstairs to the kitchen when I caught sight of myself in the mirror. I wasn’t bad looking, I had tanned, acne free skin and I worked out enough to be toned but not overly muscular. The girls in my classes all seemed to find me attractive, sometimes I noticed groups of them looking at me talking in hushed whispers and I would occasionally hear the odd word that made me blush just knowing they were talking about me like a piece of meat to be sold. I sighed to myself, accepting that Chris wouldn’t see me as the girls did and that there was nothing more than wild fantasies between me and a guy who would never think of me as anything more than a friend and continued on with my empty day.

I went through the monotony of getting ready for school and driving there in the car my parents had bought me for my 17th birthday; a black BMW M3. Don’t get me wrong about the M3, I absolutely love it, especially on wide, open roads when I can really push it, but it is just another way that my parents try to make up for their crappy parenting. They aren’t around so they think that giving me expensive gifts will make me happy. They’re wrong.

I was barely able to stay awake for my first class (geography, of course). My whole world was in greyscale until second period; that was when I got to see Chris. We were doing sex ed. in P.E and Chris and I were the only two guys in the class this year. Everyone thought that was awesome and it was, but not for the reasons everyone else though. They all thought that it was awesome because I got to spend my time hanging out with the girls and hitting on them, when the reality is I only thought it was awesome because I got to spend time with Chris without the other guys around.

When I walked into the room Chris was already in his usual seat up the back, with his bag resting on my seat so that no one would take it. My heart leapt into my throat at the sight of him and it took all of my self control not to run over and kiss him. Was I imagining it or did he smile seductively at me before he looked out the window?

God, my fantasies were starting to make me see things that weren’t there. Next I would probably ask him out or something and get a broken...well, everything, for my efforts.

I shoved Chris’ bag to the side and flopped unceremoniously into my seat. As soon as I did Chris leant over and muttered to me “Hey, do you think we’ll get to do a prac for this topic? I reckon that Cindy’d be up for it.” We both laughed at his crude joke, whilst on the inside my hope shrivelled that little bit more.

My head must be a really screwed up place, Chris is the straightest straight guy around. He always made jokes like that, so why on earth was I interested in him? And more importantly, why would he ever be interested in me?

“What did you get up to yesterday after school?” I asked innocently as the rest of the class filed into the room, hoping desperately that he paused for a moment and made up an obvious lie, hoping that he spent his time laying in bed thinking about me, the way I did.

“Played the X-Box,” He replied casually, giving a little chuckle about how lame it was.

“Oh. Ok then,” Was all I could say, my heart sinking. I crossed my arms on the desk and lay my head down on them, positioning myself so that I could see Chris from the waist down. His left hand rested on his knee, the veins standing out against his softly tanned skin as his long fingers wrapped around his knee and clenched for an instant. My eyes slowly wandered down and admired his legs. His legs were surprisingly muscular, considering that he never claimed to work out in any form but his legs, with their light blonde hair, told a different story. I lost the small aspect of self control I still had and my mind and eyes wandered northwards, in the direction of his crotch. My heartbeat increased dramatically and my own crotch began to stir so I forced myself to ask to go to the toilet.

“We just got into...Oh fine, just be quick!” The teacher responded. I had no intention of following his instructions on the speed, but I jogged lightly out of the classroom to make him think I did. I walked aimlessly around the school for ten minutes, forcing myself to forget that small moment of insanity I’d had. I had wanted to go further than looking, I had wanted to touch those legs, feel their hardness, slowly move north and make him the happiest man alive. I had been close to grabbing him then and there and throwing him down on the table. Christ that was close. As I walked I let my mind slowly process my feelings for Chris.

He clearly didn’t have feelings for me, I was just imagining his lingering looks and general tension around me. There was no way he, or anyone else, would fall in love with me, especially not in the homophobic community we lived in. I decided that I would just keep acting normal around him, not let myself imagine anything that would be socially unacceptable and not let him think I was acting weird towards him.

I received a glare from Mr. Robertson as I walked back into the classroom, but we were meant to be doing an essay so he refrained from lecturing me. I sat down and didn’t look up from my work for the rest of the period. When the bell went at the end of class I was packed up and out the door before Chris had even put the lid on his pen. As I fled from the room, I imagined Chris looking at my retreating back with sorrow, but when I turned around all that I saw on that perfect face of his was confusion. I inwardly reprimanded myself; I had promised myself I would act normally.

I didn’t see Chris for a while, not until the end of lunch. I was standing with a bunch of my friends and Chris came up and asked me if he could borrow my P.E book. My heart thudded against my ribcage as I turned to face him and noticed the dappled sunlight through the trees streaming on his face turning his usually dark green eyes into the colour of grass in the summer. I stood still for a moment, not comprehending the words that had come out of his mouth as his eyes seemed to draw me in.

“Zac...?” Chris smiled warmly; clearly aware that my mind had momentarily abandoned me. Even his smile was made more brilliant by the afternoon light, his crooked smile lit in such a way that it made him look like an Adonis. I had felt my friends all go tense when I turned around to talk to him, but I didn’t pay attention to them. In the end I didn’t give him my book because I hadn’t actually done much on that essay he wanted to copy so he just shrugged and walked off in the direction of the library. I stood transfixed, watching his retreating-I would like to say back, but that is most certainly not where my eyes were directed. Instead, my eyes were focused on the swaying beauty of his firm arse (bottom) as he casually walked away

I sighed, regretting that he would never return what I felt and turned around to face my other friends, all of whom were giving me very weird looks; some disgust, others borderline fearful.

“Why do you do that?” Sam asked softly.

“Shut up and leave him alone,” I snapped, turning and heading in the direction of my next class, but not before I saw Sam mouth ‘him?’ to the rest of the group. I ignored them; they had never understood my friendship with Chris.

The rest of the day passed in the same greyscale as the morning had, until my head hit the pillow and sleep captured me.

Wednesday

Chris dragged himself out of bed as soon as he woke up. He had learned over the past few years that the easiest way to get out of bed and face the new day was to do it without thinking, which wasn’t hard for most teenagers, but for Chris, trying not to think about Zac was like trying not to have a heartbeat; impossible without some form of suicide.

Chris slowly walked downstairs and sat at the table, staring at his empty bowl, as if willing it to fill up so that he wouldn’t have to put in the effort himself. With a tired groan he poured cereal and milk into the bowl just as his mother stalked into the room, her stare almost freezing the milk as it poured from the carton.

“Morning,” Chris said politely, receiving a grunt for his efforts. Chris rolled his eyes and scoffed down his food. He got up and walked out of the kitchen, bumping into his father on his way past.

“Watch where you’re going you little brat!” He snapped.

“David! Watch your mouth, he doesn’t deserve to be treated like that just because you’re in a bad mood!” Chris’ mum yelled from the kitchen.  Chris inwardly cursed himself; somehow he had managed to not become the one front his parents were unified on, but now he was a reason for them to fight against each other.

“Excuse me? The little shit walked straight into me!” He yelled over Chris’ head. Chris almost argued, almost pointed out that actually his Dad had run into him, but the moment before he formed the words he snapped his mouth shut again.

“What? Got something to say do you Chris? Come on then!” Chris’ Dad shouted. Chris just shook his head mutely and fled upstairs to his room and slammed his door shut. He threw himself onto his bed, trying to block out the sound of his parents arguing about him, their shouts punctuated by the crash of dishes unceremoniously being dumped into the sink and the sound of glass breaking. A door slammed and everything was quiet. Chris wiped his eyes and watched his father drive off into the mist from his window.

All Chris could hear in his head were the words his Dad had said just before leaving; “That little queer is no son of mine.” Chris took deep breaths, trying to control his urge to scream and run away. He only lasted long enough for his Mum to leave for work before he burst out of his room, grabbing every photo frame featuring his parents he could find and storming into the kitchen. He saw the glass his Dad had undoubtedly broken and lost the tiny piece of self control he had. His parents destroyed his life, they focused all their hatred on him, they existed only to make his life unbearable and Chris had had enough. His hands tore at the cupboards around the kitchen, smashing glass and anything else he could find. He stood in the centre of the kitchen, blood dripping from his hands as he stared at the pile of broken pictures in the centre of the table and the glass scattered on the floor. He grabbed a box of matches from the mantle above the living room fireplace and individually burned the photos of his parents, relishing in the feeling of destruction.

Wednesday-Zac

I woke up late; there was no one home on Wednesday mornings. Well, it isn’t like Mum or Dad were ever really home, they were way too busy, business meetings starting at 7 each morning, flying halfway around the world to negotiate overtaking some new business or closing one down because they weren’t making enough money to satisfy them. The only reason I noticed that the house was empty was because Emily wasn’t in it, she always went to stay over at her boyfriend’s on Tuesday nights, it was the only night he had off work or something. Emily made the house seem lived in because she was usually doing something, even if it was just going for a run on the treadmill in the gym or messing around in the kitchen, there was always some sound of life in the huge house, but without her the house was disturbingly silent. I hated the house being so quiet, it reminded me too much of the time when Emily had been sent away to boarding school and Mum and Dad had gone off to Europe for a month and I was the only one in the house. Only 11 years old and left alone. Mrs Baits, our elderly neighbour would come and make me dinner, but that wasn’t the same as having someone there to be with you.

I was ready for school and out of the house earlier than usual, regardless of the fact that I had slept in, I just couldn’t handle being alone in that cold and empty place any longer than I absolutely had to be.

I had half of my day with Chris today and the periods with him were spread evenly, so first thing this morning I had History with him, then English without him, P.E with him and then Maths without him etc, etc. This was good, because it meant that I would be stable, I wouldn’t fall into a depression for half the day, because the fact that I only had to get through a period before I got to see those beautiful green eyes again would manage to sustain me through the time spent without him.

All through roll call, the prospect of seeing Chris again, of seeing that soft brown skin and crooked smile was all that kept me from punching Sam; who was discussing the homework we had to do in maths that he hadn’t done. As much as I liked Sam and my other friends, their contrast to Chris’ personality and beauty made them impossible to be around for long periods of time; they were shallow, they were always talking about what girl they were chasing at the moment, or what girls wanted them. They were so self-absorbed they never even asked how I was, where as Chris always asked, I could have proper conversations with him that didn’t revolve around sex. I had been excluding myself from them for the past few months, just occasionally making up rubbish excuses as to why I couldn’t go to the movies or the beach or whatever they wanted me to do on the weekend and they were inviting me to less and less of these social gatherings, which made things a little awkward when they discussed it but sure as Hell made my life easier.

The bell.

Thank Christ!

I smiled apologetically to Sam and dashed quickly out of the room, walking towards my History room quickly. When I pushed open the door I saw the empty classroom with just the teacher present, my expectant smile fading. Chris was always first to class, even when my class was only a few metres from our next class and his was on the other side of the school he would always be there first. But not today.

I walked to the rear of the classroom and collapsed into my chair. On the desk I was sitting at there was an absentee sheet, and at the bottom of the list I saw Chris’ name. My heart fell instantly. I had thought today was going to be a good day but without Chris...

My fortune telling skills were admirable; my day was truly horrible without Chris. History was an in depth analysis of Hitler’s childhood, English was going over the themes of ‘Emma.’ By the time English was over I was ready to go home, but no, I had to sit through another four periods of school. Without Chris.

P.E was horrible, it was the only class where Chris and I got to be together properly, without anyone else. I was worried about Chris; he usually sent me a text if he wasn’t going to be at school, so I decided to skip Maths and my double of Physics and go and see what was wrong with him. Sam asked me where I was going and said something about an interview. I just told him that I had to see Chris.

As I was walking out of school my Maths teacher called out to me but I just walked faster, hoping that he didn’t think anything of me leaving during the time I was meant to be in his class.

I tore out of the student car park, trying to remember where Chris lived. I remembered it being a few km’s outside of town and down a dirt road. As soon as I saw a dirt road, I turned and  sped off, kicking up a cloud of dust behind me as I began to think what exactly I was going to say to Chris; “I am worried that you took a single day off school”? Yeah, that wouldn’t make things incredibly awkward and weird at all, would it? I was beginning to regret my decision to come and talk to Chris, but it was too late now, I was at his house. I pulled up behind his car, glad to see that he was definitely here, before turning off my engine and sitting in the car for a few minutes, pondering whether or not to even bother going in. I figured stuff it, I wanted to see him.

I climbed out of my car and walked up to the front door, knocking loudly on the heavy wood. The sound seemed to echo through the house like there wasn’t anything in it. I called out Chris’ name, but got no answer. I was a little more worried now; his car was here but he wasn’t. The area around his house was fairly dense forest and it didn’t look like there was anywhere he could have gone for a walk or anything like that, except a steep, rocky downhill path, which seemed more than a little dangerous. I was certain that I hadn’t passed him on my way in, so he hadn’t gone for a jog up to the road. I tested the door handle and it turned easily, giving me access to his small, cosy home. I had always wanted to live somewhere like this; its low ceilings and small rooms gave it a homey and lived-in feeling, something my house really lacked.

I called out Chris’ name, and still got no response. I didn’t like intruding into the house so I turned to walk back out when I saw the shattered glass covering the floor. I hesitantly stepped towards the kitchen, where it had spread from and my jaw dropped. There was glass everywhere, with a pile of burnt photos sitting in the centre of the kitchen table. All the cupboard doors hung open and were empty. My heart raced as I ran out of the house, glanced around and took off down the dangerous and rocky path that seemed the only option. I ran as carefully as possible trying, and often failing to step over rocks and tree roots until the path turned and the trees thinned, revealing a cliff where Chris was sitting on the edge. The roar of the ocean was loud, but nowhere near as loud as the heartbreaking sobs of Chris were to me. Rain began to pour from the sky as though God was crying with Chris.

I don’t even remember crossing the space that separated Chris and I. All that I remember is being in one spot one second and then pulling him back off the edge of the cliff the next.

“What the Hell are you doing Chris?” I yelled at him as he lay on the grass still crying.

“Leave me alone Zac, just drive your perfect car back to your perfect friends and live your perfect life,” Chris said through the tears that ran down his face.

“What? Chris, please, tell me what’s wrong. You’re scaring me,” The last few words came out barely more than a whisper.

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong is that I am in love with you and I don’t mean anything to you! Just let me slip off this cliff, there is nothing for me now that you hate me,” Chris pushed me away and stood up, yelling his proclamation of love. My heart pounded in my chest and I lost control of my jaw allowing it to hang open loosely. All I could feel was a mix between joy and shock. He loved me. He loved me.

Chris gave me a forlorn look as he crossed the small distance to the edge of the cliff.

“Goodbye,” He whispered, the words lost in the wind.

“Chris! Stop!” I said.

“Why? My parents have spent the last year fighting and hating me, the only thing that stopped me doing this earlier was you, and now that...that you know how I feel, there is nothing!” Chris took another step toward the ocean, his toes now hanging over the edge of the cliff. I pushed myself off the ground and pulled Chris away from the edge, this time turning him to face me, our bodies mere centimetres apart.

“Just leave me-” I interrupted Chris’ words by kissing him and wrapping him in my arms. The feeling of his lips on mine was more amazing than even I had dreamed of. I forgot everything, I didn’t know where I was, I didn’t know why I was there, I couldn’t even feel the rain hitting me; all that existed was Chris. When I began to kiss him his whole body had gone rigid and tense, but after a moment, when he realised what it meant, he kissed me back passionately and intensely. He put his arms around me, one hand pressing into the small of my back whilst the other ran through my hair, his touch like electricity, it sparked and sent fire through my veins.

“Oh my God,” I whispered softly when we pulled apart up for air.

“You...What...I...” Chris stuttered, looking at my face with confusion. I disentangled myself from Chris’ arms and smiled warmly at him and took hold of his hand.

“Come on, let’s go inside, it’s cold and raining out here,” I began to lead a still stunned Chris back along the path to his house. On the way he kept trying to ask questions, but the words never quite made it out of his mouth, so I gently squeezed his hand and promised to explain everything once we got inside.

Once inside Chris took me up to his bedroom and we sat on his bed in silence for a few minutes before I had to break the silence.

“I love you too. There, I said it.”

“I don’t understand... Why haven’t you done anything about it? Just look at you, you’re a God, anyone, man or woman, would be lucky to have you,” Chris said, disbelief thick in his voice.

“Because I didn’t think you felt the same way, and besides, I really don’t see myself the way you do,” I said.                    

“Well, then you’re crazy, because you’re the most amazing and beautiful person in the whole world...What?” Chris stopped, taking note of my expression

“You’re all that and more, so shut up, make me the happiest man alive and kiss me,” I said with a smirk. He grinned and dove at me. We wrestled around a bit until we were laying side-by-side with our heads on the pillows facing each other. His brilliantly sculpted body pressed gently up against mine as our lips pressed together in perfect ecstasy. His tongue had gently prised open my teeth, searching for mine as he slowly ran his beautiful hand upwards from my hip, along my ribcage and finally resting gently against my face. I had never been happier than to be held in the arms of a God like him.

My left hand was against the pillow, cupping Chris’ face whilst my right hand slowly pushed its way under his shirt and against his skin. My heart pounded as I ran my hand along his smooth stomach and chest, my fingers tingling as we explored each other’s bodies with our hands.

Thursday

I awoke at three a.m this morning to the sounds of my parents returning home. I had spent the entire afternoon at Chris’ house, until he told me his parents would be home soon; a meeting we didn’t want to go through yet. I rolled ever and tried to get back to sleep but voices wafted up from the hall and I could hear my name being said multiple times. My heart was pounding in my chest; could they somehow know about Chris and I? My rational voice told me that there was no way they could, maybe they had just found out that I skipped a few classes today, that was one lecture I could handle taking, but them knowing about Chris and I... That would not go down well, at all.

I got out of bed and walked across my carpeted floor and slowly opened my door so that I could hear what they were saying. As my door swung open the hinges let out a loud cry of indignation, alerting my parents and apparently Emily that I had heard them.

“We’ll talk in the morning Emily,” My father’s hushed voice floated up the stairs to me. I heard some bags moving and my parents coming up the stairs so I dove back into bed as fast as possible and got into a believable ‘asleep’ position. The house was quiet again within ten minutes, but I lay awake unable to sleep for hours, until Emily came banging on my door yelling for me to get up for school. I felt like I wanted to be sick, I was so scared about what my parents were going to say. I threw on some clothes and went into the kitchen to find my mother, father and sister all sitting on one side of the table with a woman with violently red hair pulled into a bun. She was wearing a suit and glasses and she radiated professionalism and authority that made me instantly want to run back to bed.

“Good morning Zac, my name is Dr. Andrews,” The well dressed woman said.

“Who needs a doctor?” I asked my parents, ignoring the woman.

“You do Zac, we’re worried about you Zac,” My mum said in a small voice, not raising her eyes from the table.

“Would you like to take a seat?” Dr. Andrews asked me in a tone that implied I had no say in whether or not I took a seat. I pulled a chair out from the table and sat down directly across from this doctor.

“Ok, well, what’s wrong with me then?” I asked harshly, intending to and succeeding in making both my parents flinch.

“Your friends, teachers and family are worried about you. I had an interview with your friends and some of your teachers’ yesterday afternoon. I had hoped to talk to you, but one of your friends said you had gone to see ‘Chris.’ Who is Chris, Zac?” The woman asked, watching me intently.

“He’s a friend of mine. I’m ever so sorry I skipped some classes to go see him, he was sick,” I said bitterly. None of the people in this room knew what Chris meant to me otherwise they wouldn’t be upset about this. None of them cared what he meant to me either.

“The thing is...Well, how do I say this? Hmmm, there isn’t anyone in your classes by the name of Chris,” Dr. Andrews lent across the table and looked at me with pity in her eyes.

“What...What do you mean?” I said, very well aware that my voice was trembling.

“I-we- are worried that Chris isn’t real. I would like you to make an appointment to see me tomorrow and we can figure this out for certain and give you medication that will help you if I am right, but-” I couldn’t let her finish.

“What do you mean Chris isn’t real?! He has to be real! He is the only thing I have going for me!” I knew I was yelling, but I didn’t care. I stood up quickly and my chair flew backwards from the table and crashed to the floor making everyone flinch. “It’s not like either of you are any good, I am shocked you even care enough to get this bitch in here to see if I am crazy. You probably hope I am! You have always hated the burden of having children! Traipsing all over the world, never spending time with me, fucking Hell you’ve probably been working towards making me nuts my whole life!”

I stormed out of the kitchen, ignoring their cries for me to calm down and come back. I raced up to my room and quickly threw some different clothes on and grabbed my keys. I was in my car and disappearing down the driveway before they had even opened the front door to try and stop me. My heart was pounding in my chest, tears blurred my vision and threatened to spill down my face, making driving hard, but I didn’t care. I needed Chris, I had to see him. Even if he wasn’t real. God, even thinking that was like driving a railroad spike through my chest. He was my life, he was the reason I got out of bed, he was my everything and he wasn’t even real. I pulled up outside his house-Christ, was it even real?!-and suddenly he was next to my door.

I threw open my door and climbed out and stood just staring at him with tears flowing down my face and my body shaking.

“Are you real?” I sobbed.

“Well, I remember everything, so I would argue that in your reality, and mine-”

“ARE YOU REAL?!” I roared. I felt like I was on the edge of a cliff and the ground beneath my feet was crumbling.

“Not in the normal definition, no. I am sorry, I still feel like I exist, but yet as I stand here, I know that you’re the only one who can see me. I still love you Zac, God knows I do,” Chris said, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around me in a warm embrace, his lips brushing my forehead. How did I feel this lie?

“I love you too, but...you know we can’t be together. Chris, you aren’t real...” I whispered painfully.

“That’s not true. I exist in your mind, your consciousness, and there is a place where only that consciousness remains. We can be together for the rest of eternity, come with me Zac. Come to heaven.”

I gasped. Heaven? He was asking me to kill myself?

“Zac? It is the only way for us to be together,” He blew away my defences by kissing me passionately and then continuing, “And I know you want us to be together.”

“Yes, dear God, yes! I want nothing more than to be with you Chris! You know that. But, seriously? Suicide? Isn’t there another way?” I asked.

“Sure, you could take the meds they will give you and then I will truly stop to exist,” He said harshly, his face twisted with pain. Hearing him say that made my mind up. My parents didn’t love me, they had never spent time with me, always preferring to spend time on long plane flights than with me, my friends preferred to go to doctors than to talk to me about my ‘problems’ so I didn’t really care what they thought or felt anymore, as far as I was concerned they were less real to me than Chris. He needed me, his family was cruel, he made me feel loved and needed. He was the only thing in this world that was real anymore.

“Ok,” I whispered softly. We walked silently, hand in hand to the edge of the cliff. The warm sun on my face, the breeze that ruffled my hair and danced across my flesh and the slow rumble of the ocean below made this moment beautiful. Chris squeezed my hand and smiled at me, his green eyes made unbelievably amazing in the sunlight. That smile of his, it placated all my fears. I felt such happiness. My heart swelled. Together we jumped off the cliff, into an eternity of happiness.