I'll Sing You One Last Song and then I'm Gone (Tokio Hotel Fan-Fic)

Chapter 4

This story is written by @xAnDeinerSeitex She wrote this story on a website called TokioHotelFiction.com. I was able to locate her and found out she had a wattpad account. She has given me permission to post it on here. @xAnDienerSeitex aslo has a new updated version of the story, as seeing this one is a few years old. If you like to read that one click the external link on the side. And I would like to say I have no rights to this story and I am NOT the writer. I would also like to thank @xAnDeinerSeitex for writing this great story and letting me post it on my account.

It was the last period of the day, and as a senior, I had study hall, as did the rest of my grade. It was just a silly little thing put in place by the principal, because a lot of seniors the year before complained they hardly had time to get their homework done. They organized us by last name, and everyone with the same first letter of their last name was in the same room. I was lucky enough to have a best friend named Ellie Dalhart, meaning she was in the room with me.

There were plusses and minuses to this, though. The plus was that Ellie was there. The minus was that the advisor, Ms. Bennett, hated our room with everything in her, and forbade us from speaking. If we muttered even one syllable and she heard us, we would be sent to the office and written up. And they say that seniors are supposed to have the most fun.

Of course, since she had us seated alphabetically, and probably would never move our seats because she's just like that, Dawson and Dalhart were just far enough away from each other for Ellie to be too far away from me to even pass notes with. She was seated in the seventh seat in the first row, and I was the second seat in the second row. Every day, I cursed Emily Danillo and Jared Darter for being the forces to separate me from my best friend.

Ms. Bennett wasn't totally horrible, I suppose. As a tactic to make sure we kept our mouths shut, she allowed us to use our iPods and MP3 players, as long as they weren't turned up too loud. I'd been sitting with my lime green iPod shuffle on, well, shuffle, and was more intrigued by it than my English homework. It made me laugh sometimes. I can shake the iPod like there's no tomorrow, and nothing will happen, but if I tap it in a different direction just a very tiny bit, it will change songs. It pissed me off an amused me at the same time.

Trying to find a decent song to complete the guided reading questions to Macbeth was better, to me, than just picking a semi-good song and getting the work done.

I was just about to settle, honest. And then my iPod decided to play "I Won't See You Tonight Part One".

You think you're really cute, don't you, you little neon-colored piece of high-tech machinery? You want to try and pretend that you're blissfully unaware that my dream with B.K. hasn't been playing on repeat, to put it in terms you would understand, in my mind all damn day?

I was almost angry, and tempted to go to sleep to see if I could catch my mystery angel once again, but the biggest rule of study hall was, besides no talking, no sleeping. There was also the fact that, due to my injury, I'd clocked eleven hours of sleep the night before limiting me from ignoring the rules and losing consciousness.

All it would take is one push of a button, and the song would be gone.

But, over the song, I suddenly heard the light, airy voice I could lose myself to speaking to me in my head. "Möchtest du mit mir tanzen?" A barrage of memories I wasn't really sure if I truly had or not flashed before me as I shut my eyelids. The little dance performed for me to try and explain the meaning of "tanzen". The simple way his hair bobbled when he shook his head either way. The natural scent he had about him. How warm I felt when encase in his arms.

Ugh. Fuck you, B.K. You're not even real, so just leave me alone. I don't believe in you. I don't want to think about you. Just go away and never visit me in my sleep ever again. You're not real and I can't make you real. I want to become enamored with a boy I can see when I'm awake, who could dance with me in Julian's for real, and touch my skin without worrying about anything.