Categories > Original > Drama0 Reviews
Growing up in 60's London was never easy. But when you're Harriett Rose, a poorly paid journalist amazed by the filthy world of rock 'n' roll, things only seem to get harder and harder...
I always imagined the seconds leading up to my inevitable death would be excruciatingly painful. I didn't believe my life would flash before my eyes - how could twenty whole years appear in the space of a mere twenty seconds? - the idea simply wasn't feasible. Instead, I set faith in trusting my brain would stop functioning entirely; at least then I couldn't possibly endure the several assorted emotions that were eagerly urging to gnaw callously at my weakening heart. The only silhouette I would permit myself to distinguish would be his, fantasizing about anything else would just be a complete waste of precious seconds I didn't possess. Although I knew he couldn't save me from my unavoidable fate, I felt serenity in the belief that he could somehow make my fears go away; take me on a journey into the depth of his delicious chocolate brown eyes where I could conquer anything - even my own destiny.
I seized desperate hope, but I found it impossible to believe that my angel could save me again.
The soft shrill of his pure voice caused a barely noticeable smile to appear on the corners of my scarlet lips; although hundreds of people were calling my name, it was his beautiful tone that met happily with my vulnerable ears. As his desperate cries of anger eventually turned into a beatific song of delight, I urgently scanned the bustling crowd for one last look at the exquisite face that made my heart swell up in painful love; for the hypnotizing eyes that sent me on a whirlwind of heartbreaking emotions.
When I successfully found those eyes, every inch of my sensitive body swelled up in appalled horror as I recognized the look of anguish on his flawless complexion. The light creases on his beige forehead didn't belong there, nor did the translucent drops of water that fell mercilessly from his deep pool of pain. It wasn't the first time I had made that look appear, and as I selfishly stood motionless in the middle of the road, I realised it wouldn't be the last. This time, there were no second chances; I couldn't break his heart and comeback to repair it. When the speeding car eventually hit me, I would be gone.