My Perfect Weapon

Skylar walked into the lunchroom and headed toward the table she always sat at. Before she was halfway there Amber appeared. She was carrying jar of something red. "Going somewhere, loser?" She sneered. "Nice outfit. Is it new?" She asked looking Skylar up and down.

Skylar didn't answer. It was, in fact, new. An early birthday gift from Lacy. Lacy was a fashion major and was always designing something new. She had made this outfit especially for Skylar. It was blue top with black lace down the middle with a matching skirt that came just above the knees.

"I asked you a question." Amber snarled at her. The next thing Skylar knew Amber leaned forward and dump the contents of the jar all over the front of her outfit. The smell of paint rose from the red substance now all over her birthday present from Lacy. The skirt and top were ruined. Tears sprang into Skylars eyes as she turned and ran from the lunchroom.

She ran out of the building and to her car with tears streaming down her face. Her thoughts on racing home and finding her journal.

If Andy were here they wouldn't be laughing she thought. Of course, Andy wasn't real. He was someone she made up when she was 13. She had created him in her journal. He was her perfect boyfriend. She wrote everything in her journal. All her thoughts and dreams. All the torture she had went through. She would write about it all and imagine how Andy would deal with it.

It probably seems sad to most people that she had an imaginary boyfriend, but he was more than that to Skylar. When she had first started the journal she had only wrote stories about him. Her perfect man. He was kind and loving to her. He hated when someone made her cry. He was very protective over her. He was also a vampire. Yeah what did expect from a 13 year old outcast who spent most of her time reading books?

When she was 16 she started having dreams about him. For the first time she had a face to go with her image of the perfect boyfriend. He was sexy. Tall with dark hair and icy blue eyes. Unless he was angry then his eyes turned blood red. He had a nose ring and a lip ring. A lot of tattoos. When he spoke his voice was deep and sent tingles down her spine. He was perfect.

Even now at 19, she still dreamed of him every night. He would talk to her and sing to her. He would hold her and kiss away her pain. Telling her one day they would be together in more than just dreams. She wanted to believe that, but she knew he wasn't real. At least in her head she knew, but in her heart he was more real than anything.

When she got home she showered and changed. She threw away her ruined outfit. She spent an hour looking for her journal. It wasn't anywhere in the small two bedroom apartment she shared with Lacy. She finally threw herself down on her bed and cried. It was gone. All those years of writing and sketching gone. He was gone. The one who had gotten her through so much. Her saviour was gone.