I'll Give You One Night Only

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
A short story about a two youths spending the night together.

Submitted: February 21, 2011

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Submitted: February 21, 2011



This town isn't bad when it's covered by the black of night, when there is nothing but stars to light up the almost deserted streets, and when all you can smell is the wet concrete and the night air. You can satisfy yourself by watching men and women stumbling home after drinking themselves to death at the local pubs, or watch the bats soar past the moon like birds. Of course, the best thing about the dark is that no one can see what you're doing, which is underage drinking on a park bench by yourself. It's not that they can't see, it's just that they're too tired, or too drunk, or too wrapped up in their own thoughts to care. No one cares, including you, which is why you're happy with poisoning your body until you're puking your guts out. The bottle of vodka in your hand was quite warm when you stole it, but the February air has made it ice cold. You take a swig, and the burning sensation in your throat makes your face wrinkle. Your eyes scale the length of the park and they catch a glimpse of a swan, retiring for the night behind bushes. You take another, longer swig of the vodka, so much that you gag and spit half of it out. ''You better watch it, vodka isn't as cheap as it used to be.'' Laughs a voice beside you. You flinch, and turn to see a figure. Their build tells you it's a boy, but you cannot guess they're age as they are facing away from you and their hood is up due to the cold. You try to play it cool. ''Oh well, it's not like I paid for it.'' You reply. He turns to face you, and you see his face is mature, but not really mature. He doesn't look older than 18. ''I gathered, considering you're underage and all.'' He teased. You roll your eyes, you hated being patronized about your age. You knew you looked younger than 16, so you told him how old you were in case he thought you were younger. ''Really? I thought you were about 14, no offense.'' You shoot him a look that made him shut up. ''So, what are you doing out here so late?'' He asked. You raise your bottle and he takes it from you, taking a huge swig like it was water. ''Well, where do I begin? My parents have been arguing since six, and I have exams in two days which I haven't revised for. My best friend chucked me out because she's to obsessed with her boyfriend, and my ex from about a year ago has been calling me and giving me death threats.'' The boy laughed. ''Seriously, is that all?'' He asked, shaking his head at me. ''Err, yes. What do you mean is that all?'' You say, an annoyed tone in my voice. The boy laughs once more, and takes another swig of the vodka. ''You have an easy life, in my eyes. You want to know what I’m here for? I’m running from the old bill. I want one last night to myself because I’m going to jail real soon. I’ll tell you what I done, but you have to promise me you won’t freak out, okay?’’ He sighed. You nod in promise, and he inhales. ‘’I killed my brother 5 hours ago, and my mum called the police. I’m not some psycho, my brother is. He raped my best friend, and she was so traumatized that I got uncontrollably angry. I pretty much walked in, cut his throat, and told my mum. I’m not a murderer, I don’t enjoy killing people. I killed him because my best friend means the world to me and now her head is fucked.’’ You stare at him, tempted to run away but remembering your promise. You’d do the same thing, if you had a best friend, that is. ‘’Will you make this night fun for me, before I go to the police station tomorrow and dob myself in? I swear you’ll never have to see me again, I promise I’ll hand myself in.’’ He asks, his voice pleading. You smile slightly. ‘’You only live once.’’ You reply. You grab him by the hand, and pull him through the trees. He resists as you pin him against a tree and kiss him, but soon gives in and runs his hands through your hair. You quickly throw your coats off onto the ground and collapse on top of them, lips still locked. Your mind is screaming, your pulse going at 100 miles per hour. He rips your t-shirt in two and pulls it off you, and you pull apart his shirt. He kisses your breasts, your ribcage, and your stomach. He undoes your flies with his teeth and pulls down your jeans, your underwear. He pulls down his even faster, and then he is in you. You gasp, and you move with him, let yourself go. Your lips do not move from the others for an instant, and you claw at each other, begging for more. You stretch, smile and rub your eyes. You feel around for his warm body, but all you find is his jacket and a crumpled bit of paper. You sit up quickly and look around, but he is nowhere. You sigh, and look at the paper. You expect it to say something like ‘’Gone to get breakfast.’’ But you are wrong. It reads only one line, signed with a name. ‘’I left in the morning, I promised I would.

- Your beloved.’’

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