Pure - A Tragic Tale of Romeo & Juliet

Juliet

It was a while, I think, before we saw each other again. If I did see him again between then and my ninth birthday certainly do not recollect it. No, I think the next time we saw met was about a month after I – well, we, I suppose – turned nine.

The season was pushing into autumn, and the heat of the summer was waning rapidly. It had been a glorious day upon the beach, paddling in the water and playing in the too-clean sand, yes, but as day became night, I began to feel the chill infuse into my bones. My clothes had been just the right thickness when it had been daytime, but now, with the light fading, I was regretting not having had thicker clothing of some description.

I was also on my own, pretty much. My parents had retreated back to the house, having heard the call for dinner, but I was not so willing to leave, and now, cold or not, I would have to stay. What use is being stubborn if you cannot follow it through?

I was just beginning to feel bored and lonely, to go with my original cold, when I heard a voice. I jumped, unduly startled by the sound. There were still, you see, the odd stragglers remaining upon the beach, so I ought not to have been quite so surprised to hear someone.

I turned to the direction of the sound, and saw that its source was a tall boy, who I presumed to be about the same age as me. I laughed at my own folly, and flopped back into the still-warm sand as he approached.

The stranger – for I did not in the slightest recall the time I first met him – sat next to me on the sand, and asked me whether there was anything interesting to see up there, before laying down where he sat, and joining me in looking up at the darkening sky.

"Do you see that star?" he asked, his voice so much higher than today's mellow rumble. I nodded wordlessly, fascinated by the way his hand contrasted against the indigo background.

"It's Orion," he explained, "He's a hunter and he rides the stars catching all the darkness and storing it in his belt and-"

"No, Orion's a constellation." I blurted, unable to let the false tale be weaved any further.

The boy turned to stare at me in what appeared to be a sort of awe, obviously wondering why I had interrupted him when it was clear that he had to know that. He shook his head slowly, causing his dusky hair to ripple like grass, amusement sparkling in his cornflower eyes. Then he just returned to looking out into the abyss once more. I, on the other hand, kept gazing at him, feeling my eyes begin to droop. I felt so safe there beside him.

But the moment was over all too soon. He suddenly roused himself from his observation of the stars and told me that he needed to get back to his parents, as they would soon be missing him. I sighed, knowing that I, too, really ought to return home before my parents panicked and did something rash. Again, we didn't really say goodbye, just told each other that we had to go and walked away. I don't believe we even waved to each other, just left. We just left.