Grace, James and I.

(I want everyone to know that this is fiction. Total fiction, none of it is real. I am not suicidal. All characters in this story are fictious. Any similarity to someone, Live, dead, undead, or from another story, is merely coincidental and not intended.)

I look up.

The chair is ready,

the single light shines, like a spotlight.

On the rope hung from the ceiling.

I step on the chair and feel the rope caress my neck.

I hear two voices as I drop.

I float for a moment, then the rope tightens.

I hear a scream. I suddenly feel the rope release with a snap.

I fall the last few inches to the floor.

A pair of arms caress my body.

I snuggle closer too her chest. I know who holds me.

"Grace?" I whisper.

"I'm here. Your safe." She says. I suddenly feel safer. Then a person steps out of the shadow.

A sudden dread comes over me. I know who else is here. "It's him, isn't it?" I ask quietly.

I already know the answer. I hear the voice, low pitched, and cringe against her.

"You shouldn't have done that. It was his choice." James said glaring at me and Grace. He stood the chair back up and reattached the rope.

James adds when he finished, "He is no longer yours. He should have died."

"You never helped. You always made fun of him anyways." Grace said shielding me.

"You're practically the reason he wants to do this." Her eyes are watering as she pulls me close.

I snuggle my face into her shoulder. I'm crying as well. "Make him go. He hurts me." Bury my face into her hugging my arms around her.

She hugs me back, then gently set's me down on the floor. She stands up, at a meager 5' 4" she seemed more threatening, than James.

He took two steps back holding his head up. At 6' 6" he moved to reassert authority. "You don't scare me, girly."

"In fact, you both make me sick. You," He said pointing at me, "and you're weird obsessions. You're so feminine, always acting like a girl, hanging out with the girls. You even have long hair. You are just a girl in boy's clothes."

"And you are even worse." He looked distinctively at Grace sneering. "Encouraging him to be more girly. Saying, 'He isn't weird. He is just different.' You make me sick. Both of you are inhuman."

Grace looked him in the eyes, an incredible feat, considering her height. She took a step toward him and he stepped back, knocking against the chair. The sneer seemed permanently locked.

I felt him start to turn a circle around Grace. As he passed between us, cutting off my view of her. I looked up, and suddenly he looked me dead in the eyes. Absolute hatred radiated from him. His eyes seemed almost red in the darkness.

"Yes, he should die. He isn't human. He is barely subhuman." He looked back towards Grace who had taken the chair and stood it up in front of him. She was close to the same height as him.

"You are worse. You can't except anything, that doesn't fit into your special standards." She said as she pushed him. He slipped backwards, his foot smashing down on my arm.

Nothing was broken, but it still hurt. I yelped in pain, grasping the arm into me as I curled into a ball. "Whiny little girl. That's all you are. Nothing more." He spat at and on me. He stomped on my other arm.

Again, nothing broke, but I still screamed. I heard Grace jump off the chair. She grabbed him and tossed him into the chair. Immediately after releasing him she rushed to me. Picking me up and cradling me in her arms. She rocked me back and forth. She kissed me on the forehead. Shushing my sobs, she whispered into my ear. "It's okay. He is just mean. You are always safe with me."

James stood up, enraged he set the chair up, again under the rope. And looks at us. "Ha! He can't even defend himself. He has to have you. No wonder they all made fun of him."

She simply shook her head. "That's not true. He is so kind, and loving. He treats us girls like we are people, not objects. I love him."

"You would you freak." He backed up just before he went back into the shadows, he hit the chair, It fell landing on the ground, "It's his choice. Not yours." He backed into the shadows.

Grace continued to hold me. Whispering loving statements into my ear. Finally she laid me down were I fell, kissing me on the forehead. She stood up and backed away.

I stood and turned to face the chair. I took a step, then felt her grasp my arm, tightly, but not threateningly. I turn to look her in the eyes. They were deep blue, caring, understanding, even ... loving. I looked back at the chair. "I don't want this. I want to be happy."

"Dyeing won't solve that. You'll only hurt others." She said looking me in the side of the face. She tugged on my arm again. "Please don't go."

"I love you."

The last phrase seemed to echo as the world swam in my vision.

I heard a snap.

I felt my self falling again.

I hit the cold stone floor. "Where did you go?" I screamed out.

I looked around. There was no one around. I looked up, the rope had snapped.

The chair was right were James had left it.

I was right were Grace had left me.

I grabbed my arm.

I felt were the stomps had hit me, my arm felt freezing cold.

Then I reached for were she had held onto me.

It was so warm.

I felt happiness radiate through me. And then I made a decision.

I heard her echo through my head, "I love you."

I took the chair, standing it up. I then grabbed it and the rope.

I marched up the stairs, passing my family on the way, "Where are you going?" I heard, but I didn't comprehend.

I walked to the hall, grabbed a picture of James, my brother, and started heading out, he followed me saying, "Hey, fairy! What are doing with that?"

I kept moving, ignoring my families protest. Walking through the kitchen I grabbed some matches

I was only wearing a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt, a fact I noticed as I walked into the cool October night.

I went to the shed, my family paused in the door way.

I went straight to the gas can in the back.

I went back out, dragging the chair behind me.

I wrapped the picture in the rope, making a noose out of it.

I set it in the gravel, and started to pour gasoline, onto the picture, dousing the rope and picture in it.

My brother realized what I was doing and rushed to stop me.

He punched me in the back. I collapsed and heard the chair next to me. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING PIXIE!"

I grabbed to of the chair legs, as I stood up I brought it up and over my head, slamming it into his back. I watched him collapse.

My mother yelped in surprise. No, she isn't my mother, she never liked me anyways.

The thought passed through me, of dousing him as well. It is quickly stormed back out. I'm smarter than that.

I drag him away from the picture, and rope. He moans, at least he isn't hurt to badly.

I took the splintered remains of the chair and spread them around the picture, dousing them as well.

"This should have been done long ago." I set the seat of the chair up, the back still partially intact.

I leaned the picture up against it. I drooped the rope away from the pile, like a fuse.

I dried my hands of on James' shirt, he stirs and starts to gets up. I walk slowly to the matches.

I grab four from the box and stand next to the pile, box in hand.

James looks up.

I light the matches.

His eyes widen as I move my hand towards the gasoline soaked rope.

The rope fires up and I see terror, and flames, reflected in his eyes.

He rushes forward to find it unapproachable. I hardly notice it.

I stand up slowly, tossing the leftover box in.

It lands on the picture, exploding into flames.

I walk slowly but deliberately back in to the house. I pick up my phone and keys, and walk out the front door.

I hear it slam behind me, my brother howls in anger.

I hear his heavy footsteps behind me.

As he reaches me I turn. I'm 5' 8" I only reach his Chest.

But I looked him dead in the eyes.

And I saw him falter. A look of terror flooded his face. He took a step back, then another, then another.

He eventually backs through the door. My eighteen year old brother stared at me, from the safety of the window as I climbed into my old car.

I pick up the phone and text Grace, "I'm coming. Wait for me by the door."

I start the car and go.

I drove off into the night.

Leaving that house behind me.

Leaving that hatred behind me.

I drove to my best friends house, she had been there since the beginning. Always loving me.

I got a response back, "Okay. I'll be there."

I text back, "I love you."

I never got a response.

As I got to the door, she opened it and burst through, hugging me.

"What happened?" She asked me looking deeply into my eyes.

"I almost killed myself." I said simply.

"But then you were there. The rope snapped. I saw you, and James." I continued as we reached her room. I was crying by this point.

"And he said I should have died. And that we were freaks. Me for being smart and not manly. You for being nice to me." She embraced me.

"I love you." I heard her voice say again, but this time for real.

I released her looking her in her eyes.

She smiled back.

I leaned forward to kiss her. She leaned back.

As our lips met I felt the same happiness multiplied by a hundred.

I knew then and there that this was were I belonged.

I never went back to the old house.

Grace and her family sort of adopted me. They took care of me while the court proceedings took place.

I made it through the proceedings, my old family, family being used in the loosest terms, paid so much money, and relinquished there care for me.

I spent two years with Grace and her family.

My brother never looked me in my face. His friends never harassed me. And I lived happy for the rest of my life.

To think. That merely poor knot skills, and a concussion induced dream, kept me alive.

I never speak of what happened. It is painful. But like the fire, it burned away the unclean and brought the clean.

I will forever love you Grace. You saved my life.