She's too young - completed

This is a story I wrote for a fan, Ellie. I'm so sorry I haven't posted it, it's been waay crazy. So anywho, this is a fanfic about Louis Tomlinson. They fall head over heels in love, but will it work? People will cry. Feelings will die. And the world will continue to tell them, "She's too young..."

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57. Romeo and Juliet

After being crucially grounded and held as a prisoner, stuck in my house constantly - apart from school and my dreadful drama rehearsal - I let out a red 'x' on my mental calendar signifying that today was the day. My two weeks were officially up, and I wanted nothing more than to break down and scream. I wasn't ready for what tonight held, at all. My mind played a small recap on what happened over the past thirteen days or so, and I wasn't quite pleased with the way things were going. I was sent to my school principal about seven times for more encounters with Chelle, and it didn't exactly help my home life, letting my mother extend my grounding by another three weeks. And now, I stood behind stage, panting, and out of breath, reading my lines over and over again. The clock was ticking, and from the other side of the curtain, I heard the crowd of audience piling in the seats of the theater. I quickly turned on my heel, grasping Gilmore's hand in search for something to calm me down.

 

"I don't think I can do this... I'm going to be sick." I breathed heavily, sweating in my cotton gown I equipped for my costume.

 

Gilmore chuckled, "Oh Ellie, you'll do fine. All actresses get sick before stage time. Ugh, your blush is fading, let's get your makeup touched up."

 

I groaned and walked away from her, fidgeting with my cell phone in some way to find relief. It wasn't helping that Louis was going to be arriving with his sisters any minute now, he'd be in the audience spectating me kiss another boy and commit a fake suicide. I was only fifteen years old, and I knew at any minute I was going to drop dead of cardiac arrest.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen! Show starts, in three. Get in your places!" Gilmore screamed at the heard of students running around in anxiety. I wasn't due on stage for the next few acts, so I sighed of content, sliding down the wall near the lights section. Chelle smirked, prancing over to me, taking a seat by my side. "Get away from me, right now." I gritted my teeth, tucking hair behind my ear not making eye contact with her.

 

"Here, break a leg." She handed me a small note that was folded, smirking once more to stand up and leave. I scoffed, ripping it up and throwing it behind me, distracted at a text I received. It was Louis I already assumed. 'We're here, good luck babe. I love you.'

 

I didn't know where we stood as of right now, relationship wise. He still told me he loved me, and I had hope that we were going to be together again considering nothing physically damaging happened to me during these past two weeks. But then a small wink of Chelle glancing in my direction, holding a box of props in her hands, sent a voice in the back of my mind whispering.

 

"Your two weeks aren't quite up yet..."

-

After I left my nervousness behind, the scenes went as according to plan, perfect. My voice was loud, and heard, and I felt confident in my role. Kissing Trevor was only a mere touch of the lips, which as he quite enjoyed, I still had to hold back a gag at the feel of his smile on my mouth. It was hard to spot Louis in the crowd, only my mother and father's flat facial expressions getting in my way. They sat far away from each other as I expected, and I was trying my best to get their visions out of my head as I prepared for the scene I'd been scared shitless for. The dagger was reflecting it's jewels, placed on the floor as I stepped out into the stage I'd learned so familiar with my eyes closed. The drop of my stomach sent my hands trembling, the silence of the crowd awaiting for my next move made it easy to hear the beat of my heart through my chest.

 

Just like you practiced El, Just like you practiced.

 

I tried and reassured myself, I mean come one, I'd done this a dozen times in drama class and after school with my fellow classmates. But it was still hard. The emotion, to mock a fake death and injury. The realization that in a matter of seconds Juliet would be dead. For her lover. I had always wondered what affectionate, attached, fanciers would die for one another? It was cold. It was brutal. But it was all so bizarre and romantic in the most remarkably odd way. Calling loudly, I chanted, "O happy dagger! This is thy sheath; there rust, and let me die" I appeared on the stage, shaking, and the warm spot light shown right down on me. Making visible dust particles dance around my trembling skin. My Romeo portrayed by Trevor, was dead. The tension was real. And all eyes were on me. I brought the heavy shining prop, the false weapon, and I held it before me. It felt oddly real. For a strange reason. It was as if I was really taking my last breath. And it frightened me. But it was a scene and I needed to get it done, as the crowd was suspenseful at this part.

 

Just as you practiced, Ellie.

 

I held the synthetic blade before me. And as I practiced a numerous of times, I pushed it into my skin. But only as I hadn't rehearsed, I felt pain. Skin tearing. Flesh penetrating. The sword wasn't fake. The sharp tip stabbed into me before I could scream or react. That very weapon that indeed intended only as a prop, was now cut into me. Fully biased into my lower stomach below the naval. I looked down, and my hands shook. I cried. And fell to the ground. The audience aroused in fits of applauded compliments and whistling at my performance.

 

"She is rather good!"

"So realistic!"

"If I didn't say so myself it were real!" They all cooed and cheered. It was real. My vision blurred with the weapon still emerged in my body. I couldn't say anything. My breathing slowed. And it hitched. I cried out. Clapping and screams of encores were being called. If I weren't losing my breath, and bleeding tremendously, I would smart off. 'There is no encore in Romeo and Juliet, Einsteins.' But I couldn't move or say anything at all. No one still had noticed. As they thought I was only acting the part. Not in any realization whatsoever that Chelle had to have switched the fake blade with a real one. It occurred to me the small voice in the back of my head was correct. My two weeks weren't up.. And Louis was here to witness the blade penetrate my lower stomach.  I brought my fingers to the dagger, and pulled it out, letting it be hidden with the drapes of my now blood drenched gown. I looked beside me, spotting Louis escape his seat to jump scarcely onstage. Security held him back, leaving him to push through and shout, "No! Something's wrong, call help!"

 

 Everything felt slow, It was in slow motion from the dizziness coursing through my veins.

 

'if anything happens, then he's gone for good...'

'it's just going to kill you to be with him'

'next time I'm done with you, I'll be sure you won't wake up.'

 

 Everyone's voices blocked out the screaming and commotion for an ambulance to arrive. "Something's wrong, let me go!" He screamed and ran over to me. His hands gripped the back of my head holding me up. "Ellie.." Louis cried and held me close. The crowd became silent, and I looked above into Louis' eyes. They were blue and sad, tears forming greatly in his beautiful orbs. Mu eyes fell back above me, straight into the light shining on us. It started to fade slowly, as I was still in Louis' arms. He was sobbing, one teardrop fell onto my cheek, and I heard a faint whisper "stay awake Ellie... I have to go. Goodbye." His lips pressed onto mine, allowing me to taste his tears, as he stood up to walk away from me, for good. My eyes rolled back, and I took one deep, shallow breath, letting the darkness consume me.

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