Author's note: This is a Harvest Moon song fic. I don't own Harvest moon or Concrete Angel by Martina McBride. Oh, and I know the lyrics say dress but I don't think Chelsea is the kind of person who wears dresses. I mean she works on a farm. Also this is not set on the island and if anyone seems to be OOC then they have to be. Anyway, read and review!

She walks to school with the lunch she packed.

Nobody knows what she's holding back.

It was seven thirty in the morning. Chelsea was in the bathroom, washing her face. She had been crying and did not want anyone to see her tears. She had never told anyone about anything and she had no plan to. In all honesty, she was afraid of what would happen to her if she did tell. She had been forced to keep quiet.

Chelsea walked into the little kitchenette and made a sandwich. She wrapped it in cling film and put it in a Tupperware container, along with an apple and a bag of crisps. She didn't wake her mother up to tell her she was going to school, because if she knew there would be…consequences. Instead she scribbled a note: Mum, I've gone to school. Back about four. Chelsea.

She picked her schoolbag up from the floor, put the Tupperware box containing her lunch in it, and then walked out of the front door and headed in the direction of school.

Wearing the same dress she wore yesterday

She hides the bruises with the linen and lace.

Chelsea was wearing a long sleeved white shirt and jeans. Even though it was early September, and the weather was still warm, she wouldn't wear shorts and a t-shirt in public.

You see, Chelsea was abused by her mother.

Her mother had been only fifteen when Chelsea was born and she had had no experience with children. Then she got into drinking and Chelsea had been practically taking care of herself. Her mother was an alcoholic and became violent when she was drunk.

Chelsea had been suffering in silence for thirteen years.

As Chelsea walked, she could see her friend Julia coming out of her house. Like Chelsea, Julia only lived with her mother Mirabelle but unlike Chelsea she wasn't hurt.

Julia hugged Mirabelle good bye and then skipped down the steps and over to Chelsea. Chelsea wished she knew what it was like to be loved.

The teacher wonders but she doesn't ask

It's hard to see the pain behind the mask

During school time Chelsea would never make out she was in pain. She would always make sure her arms and legs (where the bruises were the worst) would be covered up and on PE days, she would put some kind of make up over them.

She never cried or anything. She mucked about with her friends, she did the work, and she answered questions the teacher asked her, just like everyone else.

Although it still seemed strange that she would wear long sleeves and jeans all year round, even in summer when a majority of the school would wear shorts and t-shirts. It must have caused the teachers to think "Why?"

Still, Chelsea was never questioned.

Bearing the burden of a secret storm

Sometimes she wishes she was never born

During the lunch hour, Chelsea sat at one of the picnic tables outside, drawing on a pad.

"What are you drawing?" asked a voice.

Chelsea looked up and smiled. It was Vaughn, Julia's cousin. Vaughn was a silver-haired, pink-eyed boy who liked to sit at the back of the classroom and keep himself to himself. He had arrived only a few days earlier and didn't seem to have any parents but he never told anyone about them. Chelsea thought it was because he didn't want to talk because it hurt and so she didn't ask him. She was nice to him when he got teased for having such strange hair and eyes and they were good friends.

"Oh, nothing," Chelsea said, slamming her pad shut. "Want to sit with me?"

Vaughn hopped up onto the bench beside her. "How are you?" he asked.

Scared. Sad. Resentful. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Damn, Vaughn was observant.

"I'm fine," Chelsea insisted.

Chelsea had never told anyone about her worries. Not even Julia who was her best friend, or Vaughn who she liked a lot more than she would admit. She was jealous of her friends; even though Vaughn had probably lost his parents they still would have loved him.

Through the wind and the rain

She stands hard as a stone

In a world that she can't rise above

Chelsea walked home at the end of the day with a sick feeling in her stomach. School was the only place where she felt safe. But it ended at half past three and it was a very, very long time until nine o'clock the next morning and no matter how much she dragged her feet or stayed at a friend's house, she would have to go back to her own little house eventually. She never called it "home".

But her dreams give her wings

And she flies to a place where she's loved

Concrete Angel

Chelsea avoided her mother as much as she could during the afternoon. She stayed in her bedroom doing her homework, and then made herself dinner. Her mother just sat and sipped steadily at a glass of wine.

At about eight o'clock, Chelsea said she was going to bed. She went up the stairs to her bedroom and put on her pyjama's. Then she turned on her bedside lamp and continued to draw on the paper she was drawing on when Vaughn came up to her.

Her window was open because it was warm and she wanted some air.


Chelsea looked up and smiled.


Vaughn was in the bedroom of the house next door, his window was also open. Though Chelsea didn't recall him living there and she wondered why he didn't live down the road with Mirabelle and Julia.

"What are you drawing?" Vaughn persisted.

Chelsea laughed and folded up the paper. "I'm not telling you!" she giggled, though as she spoke she picked up her pencil and scribbled "To Vaughn" on the front. She had decided that when she had coloured it in she would bring it to school and slip it in his school bag.

"Have you done the science homework?" Vaughn asked.


"I don't get it," Vaughn sighed. "I guess I'm just doomed to fail science."

"Aw, come on. You're not doomed."

"Maybe in ten years time, you'll come to McDonalds and find me working there because I failed all my GCSE's!" Vaughn said.

Chelsea pictured Vaughn in a McDonald's uniform and shrieked with laughter.

Somebody cries in the middle of the night

The neighbours hear but they turn out the light

Vaughn liked seeing Chelsea laugh. He tried to think of something more to say when he saw Chelsea suddenly jump and look towards her bedroom door. A woman with long brown hair and bright blue eyes suddenly gripped Chelsea by the shoulders and was shaking her and yelling at her.

Vaughn shut his window. He didn't want to hear what they were saying.

Chelsea was cowering away from her mother; Vaughn could hardly see her now. Then they were both out of sight and he assumed that Chelsea had been knocked to the ground or something, and her mother was kneeling down and hurting her somehow.

When Chelsea's mother grabbed the lamp of the bedside table and dragged it in the direction of where Chelsea was, Vaughn knew he couldn't stand by and watch. He ran out of his bedroom and called the police.

A fragile soul caught in the hands of fate

When morning comes it will be too late

Vaughn waited outside the house for the police to show up. They're taking too long he thought to himself.

When the police car did screech to a halt, Vaughn quickly told them what they had seen and the police burst inside the house. Vaughn waited. Eventually Chelsea's mother was dragged out, still screaming abuse. Vaughn could see the blood on her hands.

The police came out carrying something covered with a blanket. Vaughn couldn't see it, but he still knew exactly what it was. Although maybe it would be better to say he knew who it was.

Through the wind and the rain

She stands hard as a stone

"Excuse me, is your name Vaughn?"

Vaughn looked up. One of the police officers was standing in front of him, with something in his hands.


In a world that she can't rise above

But her dreams give her wings

And she flies to a place where she's loved

"We found this on the bed. I think it's meant for you."

The policeman held something out to Vaughn, which he took.

"Thanks for the phone call," the policeman said and then got into the car and they drove off.

Vaughn opened up the paper. It was a drawing of Chelsea and him, hand in hand. It wasn't quite finished but it looked like the background was going to be a beach. But the thing that struck Vaughn most was the fact that Chelsea had drawn them both with angel wings.

Concrete angel

A statue stands in a shaded place

An angel girl with an upturned face

It was now late September. Vaughn was standing in front of a statue of a young girl angel. He was standing with Mirabelle and Julia and a few other people.

A name is written on a polished rock

A broken heart that the world forgot

Chelsea Whitlock was written on the stone, for it was Chelsea's funeral.

Vaughn felt that they should have written more than just her name on the stone. After all she had suffered in silence for all those years. She shouldn't have had this life.

However that didn't matter to Vaughn now. He closed his eyes and turned around…and was gone in a blinding flash of light.

However nobody noticed this because Vaughn had never been there.

Through the wind and the rain

Vaughn was an angel who had been sent to befriend Chelsea a week before her death. He would befriend her and show her that she could still feel loved.

She stands hard as a stone

When Vaughn opened his eyes, he was still in the place where Chelsea's funeral was being held. The mourners were still behind him. They just couldn't see him.

In a world that she can't rise above

Chelsea herself was standing in front of him. Vaughn's mission had been achieved.

But her dreams give her wings and she flies to a place where she's loved

Vaughn stepped forward and hugged Chelsea tightly. "You're safe now," he whispered in her ear.

Chelsea smiled widely. "Thank you Vaughn."

Vaughn looked at her and took her hand. They ran into the horizon, wings on their backs, feathery and magnificent. Chelsea had no reason to worry now.

Concrete angel…