WARNINGS!!!
There’s emo-ness, death, more emo-ness, gore, even more emo-ness, more death, blood, more gore, and surprise! More emo-ness. Did I mention the gore? What about the angst? But on top of that, there’s a sappy love story all mixed in too. Oh… and ONE curse word. I feel proud.

XxX

Once, in a land quite close and a time not really long ago at all, there was a boy, a man almost. Tall, dark, and handsome; his highlight? His voice. This one could sing like angels, compose harmonies so sweet they bring the most hardened of people to their knees, and could rip hearts out of women with ease, a mere spoken word could do it.

But for the longest time, no one could do the same to him. That is, until he met a very special girl…

Now muses from above, my body is yours; tell me his story, write it in stone, and let his tale live on.

An average day in an average school located in an average city where the rain never stops, nor do the people, is where we start. Erin sits in his least favorite class, his math class, murmuring to himself, scrawling out words and chords randomly even though he knows he should be paying attention. There’s to be a test soon.

“Erin!” the teacher calls out, catching that he wasn’t listening, “what are you doing?”

The teen stands calmly

“Sweet as stone,

Cool as fire,

My baby’s mean to me,

Turning me sour…

I long to love her,

I want to hold her,

I need to have her,

But no…

My baby, my love,

She gives herself to another

My heart, my soul,

They're just some bother.

Leaving me alone,

All, all alone…”

Words sung sad and slow, reliving his latest heartbreak. Erin sits.

It’s after school when she first approaches him. A thin girl, slightly shorter than average, with long, mousy brown hair and big brown eyes half hidden behind the pair of glasses perched atop her freckled nose. A complete contradiction to Erin’s intimidating being.

“Erin?” she asks timidly.

“Yes?” he answers.

“Mr. Firth asked me to tutor you,” the girl says, quickly adding, “If you’re willing.”

It’s months later when Erin realizes he loves Amanda, the girl who now tutors him, and even longer before he gains the nerve to ask her out. It’s with the sweet, shy smile Erin’s heart always melts to that she agrees.

Alas, this is where things take a turn for the worst. Oh, the date went fine—it was the perfect night, until a car speeds around a corner as Erin steps off the curb, leading Amanda to the café across the street. With a sickening smack, the vehicle slams into not the boy’s strong frame but the petit body of the girl and continues on without missing a beat.

Erin lands feet away, unhurt and severely shocked. She… pushed me out of the way…

“Oh, fuck.”

Days pass. According to others in his math class, Amanda was doing fine, although Erin had yet to see her since that night. He was afraid too.

In his mind, the accident was his fault. He cursed her, and if he went to see her… she would die. Erin knows this isn’t true, and many have tired to convince him of this, but so many things have gone wrong with him seemingly at fault… there was no way Erin couldn’t NOT think he was cursed.

“The one thing…” he tells himself quietly, “the one thing going well in my pitiful life… and I end up cursing her.”

Finally, six days after the accident, he agrees to see her. Amanda was due to be out of the hospital in a day or two, which is what made him give in.

As Erin steps through the door, his heart warms at the sight of her sweet smile. Promptly, he launches himself at the small girl, wrapping his arms around her while tears threaten to spill from his eyes.

“Amanda, I'm so sorry. It’s all my fault; please, please, forgive me.”

“Erin,” soothes Amanda, “I'm fine. It’s not a problem… shh…”

He pulls back slowly, whipping his eye, pink tinting his normally cream skin. Than, like the dawn erupting from the eastern hills, a soft, sad smile crosses his face.

“Okay. I'm sorry…”

That night, Erin sleeps soundly and wakes happy, until he begins to get ready for another day at school, the news playing in the background.

“The high school student involved in the hit and run incident over the weekend returned to critical condition last night after her broken leg became infected. Students of in her classes say that she was doing fine until last night’s relapse. Over to you Bob with the weather.”

“Thank you Jenny. Today is going to be nice again…”

But Erin wasn’t listening to the weather. Oh no, not at all. Instead he stands stunned, staring wide eyed at the TV.

No… it’s all my fault… I… I cursed her... I knew it.

Not much more than a week later, Erin sits all in black, March clouds drizzling cold rain overhead, as people, some he knew and some he didn’t, said all sorts of nice things about the thin, sweet girl lying rigid in the wooden coffin upon a bed of silk. The tears he had been suppressing for the longest time slide down his face, mixing with the rain clumping his hair together and dripping of his chin.

He still blames himself for Amanda’s death. It’s pulling him from everything else in his life, drawing him deeper into the blackness of regret. Erin stares detached at the blood pooling at the newly formed hole in the tip of his thumb from where one of the thorns of the single rose in his hands punctured the skin.

He stays there long after everyone left, gazing at the headstone engraved with Amanda’s name and continuing to twirl the rose around despite his fingers being scratched and torn. His sad eyes flick down to the flower hanging limp in his hands and stands, pulling out a thin silver chain from his pocket. Hanging from this, an elegant little locket, a note inside. Swiftly, Erin twists the chain around the stem of the rose and lays both on the ground before the grave marker, murmuring the words of the note.

“I’m sorry…”

In one shaking hand, Erin holds a blood encrusted blade while looking at the other arm, and the pattern of deep scratches covering the inside of his wrist. Instead of continuing there, he looks down his bare chest to the pale flesh of his belly just above his pant line and lowers the blade. He moans softly as the steel kisses his skin, much like he kissed Amanda that day seemingly so long ago…

He checks the rope and wire tied around the pole on the roof, making sure both are tight so they won’t come undone, and rubs at his tender abdomen, which only makes it hurt worse. After stepping to the edge, he fastens the rope around his ankles and tightens the knot securing the wire around his neck, smearing the blood already oozing from the thin cut encircling the column of flesh. Next comes the super glue into the palm of his left hand, and takes a fist full of his own hair with the same hand. A pause while he waits for the glue to dry, than a deep breath before he turns to face the center of the roof and closes his eyes.

Erin goes limp, falling back onto nothingness and plunging through the air.

Blood splatters the face of the building and the concrete below as the boy’s jugular is ripped open. Screams erupt below at his falling form. A dull thwap as his body bounces off the building, smearing more of the red substance across its surface. Roughly three feet below his shoulders, his chin taps the base of the wall, a serine smile across his lips, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth and the mangled remains of his neck. Across his torso reads a letter carved into flesh…

To everybody:

I'm sorry. It’s all my fault and I couldn’t stand it anymore. Just like in Romeo and Juliet; neither can live without the other just as I can not live without my dear Amanda. It was only after she died that I realized how much I loved her, so now I leave to see her once more, to be together with her in the afterworld. Forgive me for ending this so soon.

To all those close to me, Mom, Dad, the rest of my family, I love you all, and don’t be sad, because I’m happy now. Continue with your lives the way I was not able to mine.

With much remorse,

Erin

“… and tomorrow is going to be much like it was today—sun, sun, sun! However, the rain is going to be rolling back in tomorrow night giving us a soggy morning commute Thursday. As for the weekend, it looks like everybody’d be better off settling down inside with a blanket or two due to a cold front rolling in from the north. Back to you Alex.”

“Thank you Bob.”

On screen, Alex’s eyebrows furrow as he sees “breaking news” and what follows on the read screen.

“This just in: a teenage boy committed suicide a few minutes ago, reportedly by jumping from the roof of one of the downtown office buildings. Bystanders say somehow he got d-decapit-t-tated in the process… uh… officers are reporting to the scene, as is one of our reporters, and we’ll keep you updated as soon as we learn more…”

And so ends the story of Erin, the Gods’ voice of song, as he leaves this world in favor of the next, to see his sweetheart once more, for if they're not lovers in this world, they shall be in the next, not unlike many whom have come before them.

XxX

Okay! Here’s a VERY important authors note. First, keep in mind that this was for a school assignment at the beginning of the year. My (group’s) task was to take a classical Greek myth and rewrite it, than perform either the original or the rewrite. Obviously it was the original, entitled “Orpheus and the Muses”. However, I had way too much fun writing this, which is why it is uploaded… and why now it says fuck in it.

Secondly, there is no title for this as of yet. I am putting it out to the readers (my wonderful readers tears) to fix that. Gimme suggestions and if you win, your name shall be added to the dedication list, which will remain intact if/when this gets published for, like, real… in a book or something…

Thirdly, I want to refine this even more before I submit it anywhere for… anything… major… soo…. falls dramatically to knees PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE HELP ME MAKE IT BETTER. All it takes is a review and a bit o’ constructive criticism… you can even flame me (although that’ll just make me happy...hehe... flames are fun... you roast marshmellows on 'em...), as long as it’s constructive, I don’t care. But I know there are things wrong with this, and I want to make them better so… yeah… review please?

Lastly, this is dedicated to many people. They are as follows:

Mr. Wolfe (my teacher who threw this at me a couple of months ago)

The entirety of the 5/6 Honors block at my school (which sucks btw… but I never said that aloud… giggles you heard NOTHING!)

My group: Simone, Carle (I think that’s how it’s spelt ;;), and Nailo-Chan (who let me write this on my own even though it was supposed to be a group effort)

The random people in my class who actually told me to my face that this kicked ass: Zack, Janelle, Angela, what’s ‘er name who sits next to me (as of sometime last week), the other people who I don’t remember right now…

My girlfriend, Nanase-Chan (ditsyelf13 that is) who told me ‘bout that particular way to commit suicide

Nanase-Chan’s mom’s boyfriend (who’s Canadian XD) who told her ‘bout that particular way to commit suicide

Nanase-Chan’s mum who let the Canadian move in, thusly starting the chain reaction of suicide telling-ness

keeps rambling on and on and on for another few (and by that I mean a few dozen) minutes about the people who introduced other people to the Canadian

A BIIG thanks to Da Vinci at Work who pointed out a mistake I made (I hate wordpad . RWARG)

And finally, to all of you who read this entire thing and reviewed for me. Yay!

… Okay… I'm done…

Jya ne

Uke Mochi