She stares at her laptop, debating whether to instant message the only name she has eyes for on her buddy list.

"Why aren't you sleeping?"

"I'm waiting for a friend to come over", he types.

"But it's after 2 AM."

"Yes, yes it is" he sends, followed by a smiling emoticon.

"I see, so it's the kind of friend I became." "Yes," he replies. Then he signs off.

The young woman sits alone in the darkened house, staring at her computer screen. In vain she tries to hold back the tears for the one she loves; the one whom, on a crazy, stupid impulse, she gave her innocence to. The old house creaks in the driving wind, mourning her loss with her. The wind shrieks in the heavy darkness, echoing her heart.