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His touch was all she was aware of. Everything else faded away into oblivion. The jeers and catcalls, the whispers, giggles, and pointed fingers; she was oblivious to all of it.

All she knew in that moment in time was his arms wrapped around her, his body pressed against hers, his soft, warm mouth crushing her lips in a kiss.

For that one moment she was alive, and warmth was flooding her entire being. For that one moment she mattered, she was cared for. She was loved. If this was what it was to be loved, she never wanted to lose it.


Months later, she lay in the hospital. The many sedatives she had been given dulled her pain, but her heart ached so badly she was sure that pain would never go away. Her eyes stung, but she was out of tears. She hadn’t talked to her friends, hadn’t said a word at all. All she did was think of that first, distant kiss that had started it all, and try and figure out what had gone so horribly wrong.

She closed her eyes, trying to block out her emotions so she wouldn’t drown in them. Despite her efforts, anger welled up in her throat, chokingly bitter.

If this was what it was to be loved, she never wanted it again.