I remember sitting alone in my History class on that dull, autumn day, waiting for the lesson to begin. Even the sky conspired against me, predicting my tears with conclave of bellyful clouds. Their relentless downpour claimed the streets with cold rain that soaked the flaming palette of leaves covering the ground until they turned brown, decayed and forgotten. I had no time for History, no patience for teachers. I hated all my classmates. All I really wanted was to hear the bell announcing the end of another uneventful class; letting me know there was something more I could hope for. That I could hurry down the hall and into the open courtyard, leave the school behind me and walk into her street. To look up and see her windows. To see her.

Most of the class time I'd often daydream about her, the way her soft hands feel on my face or how warm and safe it feels to be held in her arms. Daydreaming shows on my marks but I don't care about it anymore. I don't care about much these days except us. Even ceaseless warnings given by Mom and Dad or my teachers can't change anything. Their hypocritical, deceitful lectures spat at me have no message to bear beside its pitiful arrogance poised to hurt but not to understand. There is only one that shines now through the rain-bearing clouds of my life.

I think I really love her, but I have many doubts. They creep on me when I'm away from her: alone in my room, alone at school, alone out on the street... Doubts that she doesn't care or doesn't love me. Perhaps I annoy her. Perhaps she feels sorry for the lonely, fourteen-year-old girl, that crept into her life and fell in love with her. Maybe she pretends to be my best friend so not to hurt my feelings. My doubts change but my love for her is always the same. I may be only fourteen but I know with all my soul I'll never love anyone in my life again the way I love her.

Once I snapped out of daydream, my class had shifted from the topic of Greeks and Spartans, to homosexuality. Suddenly this "class topic" turned into a blown out back washed debate. I sunk into my chair and tried to block out the yelling.

"People like that will burn in Hell!"

"It's disgusting and sinful!"

"We should have them all moved to a separate island or something."

As my teacher tried to pull everyone out of the topic, I sank down lower. I could feel the tears stinging my eyes, begging to break loose and flow out. I was too afraid to say anything about the matter and all the voices shouting made me feel the loneliest girl in the world. I shut my eyes and held onto sleeves of my dark hoodie. I'd stare at my desk and pretend I wasn't there, that all the vulgar hate was none of my concern. Anything to drown out their narrow minded, foolish bashings.

But still, no matter what I tried, their voices wouldn't go away. They wouldn't shut up. They just won't SHUT UP!

I fiddled with the necklace she gave me. It helps that at any moment I can leave this place and lose myself in this small piece of her for a few seconds. My face is hidden underneath my hood because I don't want to be seen. I don't want anyone to see the angry tears fall down my cheeks after I tried so hard to hold them back. It took a little while but they betrayed me in the end, burning hot on my skin like the guilt and shame that will never leave me.

My classmate Aaron saw me. He saw how hurt I was, but he didn't know why. He had his iPod on the whole time, working on homework for his next class. I started to pray to a god I didn't believe in to make the clock jump forward. To speed up time. To end this class and let me run away from this place and into her arms, the only protection I knew and the only comfort I recognised.

"Hey, are you OK?" Aaron asked me as he reached out, wanting to comfort me but unsure if he should. I nodded and smiled at him wiping tears from my eyes. He didn't press on the matter at hand and went back to his work. I laid my head down and stared at the clock on the wall slowly ticking away the seconds of my life. Those idiots were still going at it. Would I really go to hell for loving her? Would she? I'm not even sure I believe in hell. I believe in heaven, so hell must be real too.

Then the bell rang. I only realised it had rung a minute or so ago. I packed up my bag and I got the hell out of there. The few precious moments I have to spend with her made everything seem to melt away. Unfortunately it never seems to last long.

084; 084; 084; 084;

The rain is coming down in pitter-patter. Large drops falling from dark clouds and landing softly on my hair and face. All around me the city streets are wet and shiny in afternoon twilight. A street light had gone out but it doesn't matter; I knew the way as I ran as fast as my legs would carry me. The occasional glare of the head lights of a car would blind me momentarily and remind me of warm sunshine and summer months.

But now it was cold. I shivered and hugged my school bag tight against my body as I entered her building and climbed up to her apartment. As soon as she opened the door she knew I've been crying and somehow I felt this realisation tore her heart with grief.

Finally I was in her arms. Confined and contained in her protection and warmth as I tried to look away from her face in shame of my tears. But I couldn't help finding myself looking at her again, like a flower turning to the sun, like a raindrop finding the ground. I told her about the class, about everything I had to listen to and how much it hurt to say nothing back because staying quiet felt like betraying her. And if I had my way I'd never force myself to get over it, to move on, because I had her with me and I was strong again. Together we can make it through. Make it through the worst, make it through everything.

She listens to me like she always does. I see her exploring my face, my thoughts, but I don't want to fall apart again, I just want to sit lost within her arms and feel small and do nothing all day. I just want to stare at her and become blinded with love. I want to burst out in tears in front of her and release all the anger and sorrow they've made me keep inside all this time. I don't want to talk about anything, because I'm in love with her. She is the only one I'd choose to be with until the end of time. Whenever I feel incomplete she brings me back again. Back under the beautiful stars, back in her safe arms... her warm embrace. I want to know who she really is, where to start, what all this really means. I want to know how she feels, whether this is real or just some twisted fairytale. I want to know every single thing. Everything. And I don't want to talk about it, because I'm in love with her.

We stay inseparable for this short time we have to each other. She says she only wants to hold me in her arms; feel me so small and warm pressed against her and listen to my heartbeat, my breathing, my feelings. It makes me smile and melt against her like an icecream on a hot sunny day.

I show her exactly how much I love her, how much I need and care for her by showering her with kisses and hugs, trying to steal all her love for me, the love that laps over me like waves of a vast uncharted ocean. I never felt so whole and complete before I met her. Only she does that to me - makes me feel like there's something truly worth living for. That, as long as we're together, nothing can go wrong because we are in love and love heals everything. I can't even fathom how lonely I'd be if she was absent from my life. Looking up at her beautiful face I could never let her go. I couldn't let her leave me without her knowing she gave me life I never dreamed was possible.

I hold onto her, I cling to her as though she is the only thing keeping me sane and alive. I need her. I need to know her love will not stop, that someone won't take her away from me and out of my life. I need to know that she is mine and mine alone. I need to love her and to be loved by her. And I know she needs me to. Those deep green eyes speak of insecurity, fear and pain. Pain that I'm causing, pain that only I could mend. She needs to know she is the only one. To know that I would never leave her. She needs to know I love her, no matter how many times I'd said it in the past and it doesn't matter we're girls, and it doesn't matter I'm fourteen, and it doesn't matter everyone is against us, and it doesn't matter... Words simply are not enough, not now. I need to show her, she needs me to show her.

And I do, sighing as her lips explore me, her hands open me, her eyes possess me. She worships every part of me and I refuse to let her go even for a moment. I make sure she knows of my love for her and in turn she cherishes me like a rare and mysterious flower.

Now I lay in her arms feeling small and vulnerable against her. I still can't get over it, the way it felt, the way she made me feel. It was amazing, it was magical. I've never been loved like this before and I'm little scared that someone will find out about us. But my thoughts vanish as soon as I feel the touch of her lips against my ear. I love the way my name sounds on her lips. The way she says it, it sounds as though I belong to her. With my name she tells the whole world that I am her girl and her alone. I love that, the feeling of belonging to her.

084; 084; 084; 084;

By the time I came home my dad was there too. I'm supposed to be able to talk to him about "anything". He said he'd be there for me. But as I watch him seating in front of TV, I decided not to say anything.

"How was school?" he asks.

'GOD DAMN IT!' I scream in my head and walk back to the living room.

I stood by the living room couch. "Fine." I just wanted to get back into my room. I wanted to text her because I was missing her already. I could feel my phone vibrate in my hoodie pocket. Dad looked at me and I spilled out my whole day to him. I regretted it as soon as I opened my mouth. Instead of comforting me he just shook his head.

He told me the entire world is like that. He told me that this "phase" I'm going through will pass and that one day I'll find a nice boy to marry. He keeps telling me I'm not gay. I simply nod in agreement and go off to my room. Thanking him for his advice, lecture, whatever it was.

I lay on my bed and text her. I texted her I love her. That I miss her. That one day, we could spend every day together like we wished we could. I didn't tell her I was crying again. I knew it would make her cry too.

"My father is right though. The world is cruel, and it wont be any easier for us if we stay together," I wrote to her.

"I don't care. I have you," she replied.

It made me smile and I got that feeling again. That melting feeling where it seems like nothing matters in this world but us. As if nothing can touch us because we belong to each other.

Another thing my father my be right about is that I'm too young to know if I'm gay. But being told that so often and dealing with my feelings really screws me up. I may be only fourteen but I like girls. I know that much. When I first saw her, something inside me said "Go to her." And I did.

She's the only thing in this entire world that makes me feel worth living for.

And as long as I have her, I'm sure I can live through what ever the world has to offer.

The End