Tanya and Harold

Harold laughed at the joke Tanya had just cracked.
"Why did the chicken cross the road?" She had asked.
"I don't know," Harold had replied with a smile, waiting for the punch-line.
"Well, Saddam Hussein's answer is 'This was a rebellious act and we were quite justified in dropping 50 tons of nerve gas on it."
There was a period of about five minutes where they laughed their heads off. It really wasn't that funny, but they wanted to laugh. Life was so good that it would be wasted time if they didn't laugh.

"I'm sorry Tanya," Harold sobbed, holding her dead body close to his. "I'm so sorry."
"Oh my God," George uttered, now standing right behind Harold. "What happened?"

"Harold!" Tanya shrieked in the alley. It was night. Harold had thought it a good idea to split away from the rest of the group and head off on their own. George had seen them, but Harold wouldn't know that until later.
"Tanya?" Harold had called back. She had fallen behind him and someone had grabbed her. Someone had grabbed her. "Tanya!"
He had ran to her as fast as possible. He yanked a pipe from the ground without even thinking and descended on the mysterious man that had appeared out of the shadows.
"Let her go!" he shouted. He shouted again and again, but the man did not let her go. Not even when Harold hit him with the pipe.

Harold let Tanya sink back to the ground in the rain and continued to sob. His life had died tonight.

They were laughing so much from that joke that Harold had trouble keeping his bladder under control. He stopped slowly and then kissed Tanya. It was a good time. Prancing in the fields of fucking dandelions and hugging and kissing all the way. Running into each others arms on the damned beach.
"Tanya?" Harold asked.
"Promise me something."
"Promise me we'll be together always."
Tanya giggled. "I promise."
Stupid kids in high school thinking life would be so great. Thinking all that they needed was each other. Stupid goddamn kids.

Harold was still holding Tanya's hand now. An hour after she was dead, in the ambulance, under fluorescent lights installed in the roof of the ambulance. He had gotten his sobs under control.
You promised, Harold thought.

"Let her fucking go!"
"Let go!" Tanya screamed and Harold smacked the man across the face with the pipe he was brandishing. His grip hadn't loosened.
The man was wearing a black robe, just like Death. He was wearing a hood, just like Death. But the man was not Death.
"Let her go you worthless piece of shit!"
Then the man did let go. He pushed Tanya to the ground and then went for Harold.
"Stop!" Tanya shouted at the top of her lungs.
That's the thing about Tanya and Harold. Both of them were willing to die for the other.
And one of them would.

The next chapter will be in soon.