I was done with the important morning duties I called chores, after a little dab here and there. For I had no interest in the principle of being spleen clean.

I seldom handled laundry. I threw most of my clothing away or gave them off to charity.
Not for the sake of having a good heart, but it was the only way I could get rid of filthy wears.

There was a knock on the door this lovely afternoon. It was Mrs Beckley.

The kind woman held out a huge basket which was already filled up with dirty clothes.

Mrs Beckley gave me a smile, which turned out to be a creepy wide grin.

She gazed at the little cotton whites that lay in the garbage-can,  close to the tiny tile-padded squared room I called the kitchen.

Her indescribable smile became an instantaneous frown.

"Sweetie I've told you more than a thousand times that disposing your dirty clothing, especially your whites, isn't the right way to get things done. And trust me darling it's not the best way either, since you'll have to spend money on getting new clothes. You make little pay from the work you do and buying new clothing won't help you prepare for the future and besides nature..."

"I know Mrs Beckley. Even nature in her best of days won't smile upon my act and may punish me for it. I know. I'm sorry and I promise not to dump my dirty laundry in the trash again." I replied.

Mrs Beckley smiled.

"Well dearie, I'm glad those ears of yours aren't for fancy. All righty then, place all dirty clothes here, while Mrs Beckley gets rid of all stains, large or small."

I gazed at this jolly old woman for a while and pondered.

This world had problems that kept growing, but somehow, in the midst of such occurrences, Mrs Beckley was always smiling.

I often wondered if she ever had a problem.

I always had deep thoughts on how her past life would have been like, but nothing came up besides Old McDonald's dairy farm in kindergarten books.

I could never picture her beside a normal family, school, club or church.

In my brain, she stood beside a huge red barn tending to cows.

Awakened from my day dream, I smiled back at Mrs Beckley.

"Thank you so much Mrs Beckley I'm grateful. Truly I am."

"No worries love. I'll get them back to you once they're dry. Off to work now. And sweetie, keep that smile, it makes your aura glow. Good bye."

"Goodbye Mrs Beckley I'm grateful!!"

And off she went the jolly maid.

I looked at the cracked clock above the grey sofa in my little siting room, it was nine o'clock already.

I was an hour late for work.

I jumped into comfortable black cotton pants and quickly made coffee.

I sipped the dark liquid while I slipped into a white cotton shirt as well.

After a few more gulps I stopped at the mirror a few steps away from the bathroom and wrapped my hair into a bun.

I grabbed my already packed handbag and took a bus to my work place; the library.

The Library was my domain of peace, quiet and renewal.

Though I worked there as an assistant Liberian,  I loved to get lost in the world of fiction and fantasy.

I loved to slide away from the heart-breaking reality and gaze upon my deepest wishes in motion,  through what seemed to be endless imaginations.

Every weekday, I'd stack my handbag with novels of all kind.

My job was quite boring, but the books kept me through.

After directing readers to their destinations, placing the little treasures back in their shelves and a few more journeys through lines and sentences, my day was over.

Every other day after work I spent a few minutes on a pavement which was just a few blocks behind the library.

The view from this pavement wasn't romantic or breath-taking. There were no valleys or fields to gaze upon. Just memories. Good memories mingled with horrific memories.

A few seconds after I had made myself comfortable on that spot, I felt strong arms around me.

"You never know how to let go. Do you Wesley?" I told the bold man beside me.

"I guess I'm stuck with you forever." Wesley said as he made an almost perfect smile.

I had a flashback of my reaction towards Stark the previous day and the days before that.

Shutting the door on his face made me feel terrible.

"Hey, about yesterday, I'm very sorry. I don't know what got into me. I just..."

Stark placed his index finger on my lips. It felt warm.

"Shhh. No need to apologize. No matter what you say or do I'm never leaving your side. Though you should know that it's time, you became comfortable staying out of your home at night. Stop worrying. It's been five years and I'm still here. I made a promise to you right here on this pavement remember?"

"I do remember. Look, I know it's been five years of silence but the killer was never caught. I mean let's get real. The killer can be anywhere and he could bump up at any time. Why did he kill everyone I knew and suddenly go numb for five years? Why did he let you and I live?! I've got so many questions on my mind Wes and until they're answered I can't stay calm or forget the past. I have to be careful and so do you."

"Especially you! Everyone I knew got hurt and who knows, you might be the killer's next target. I don't want you to get hurt. I know you made a promise but what good is that promise if you're dead! Wes I pray for our safety every day. Every night I wake up from nightmares I can't explain. Sometimes my eyes stay wide open till the next day, because, I'm scared. It's been five years but I'm still scared. And every moment I'm reminded, you're a survivor...Wes, just wake up to reality and let me worry!! I can't stay calm because, the promise you made on this pavement years ago, won't do anything right now. Nothing!!"

I felt tears find their way down my cheeks in a great rush.

"Not again!" I thought as I rubbed my hands on my eyes continuously with anger.

The force I used to wipe away my tears made my eyes hurt. I didn't want to cry.

After high school, I noticed that I cried a lot and I hated it.

Sometimes the clear drops just forced themselves out. I just let them flow. After all, it wasn't my fault. What I went through in high school was enough for me to fill a ten litre tank with tears.

Five years had passed but my heart still felt pain.

Wesley wrapped his arms around me tightly until my face was pressed against his chest.

I could hear his heartbeat just beneath the brown jacket he wore. It was calm, but I wasn't.

Wesley then touched my forehead with his lips. It felt warm.

It was true he had once made a promise to me on this pavement. A promise I held so dear.

I remember it all. It was more than five years ago, when the promise on the pavement was made. We were seniors at the Mary Land High School. Everyone had a social club or clique they belonged to.

Short skirts, pants, dyed hair, rings, chains. No one cared about the future besides a few who
weren't allowed to live in the 'groove' moment.

Some had supporters and others had worshippers but I had a friend who was all I needed.

I remained quite mean to Wesley Stark, but he seemed to get me. My smiles and laughter were uncountable for he was a guy with a good sense of humour.

A while just before summer, the kids in school had plans to go wild, have sex, dates and all sorts of stuff they thought normal people should have before they wrote the final exams for college.

I had no notion, but believed my heart would take me to wherever pleased it.

Such did I have faith on till I met Mark Jackson.

He was a mini god.

Mark was tall. He had long dark hair and stunning green eyes that sparkled to me only.

He often wore casual clothing, boots and a beautiful gold chain with a cross pendant hung on his neck.

His hair, coal-black was always hoarded in a gallant pony tail.

He was handsome and pretty. Calm and rogue. Silent, yet loud.

I may have been unsatisfied with the life of high school and the people in it, but I was still a girl.

I remember my friends in Denmark, just before mom died.

They often told me that any teenage girl who didn't have a boyfriend at the age of sixteen was going to end up being a nun.

It made me laugh, since I was to turn seventeen in a month and my high school crush had no idea of who I was.

Wesley took note of this and somehow in some way introduced me to Jackson.

Jackson and I started talking and my high school crush turned out to be the perfect boyfriend.

I did ignore Stark in most cases for 'love', but we made up for it in our favourite spot; The pavement.

A few more days passed by and I was a seventeen year old girl with the perfect best friend and an uncommon boyfriend. I felt lucky.

Time passed and soon one of the biggest events in high school was near.

Homecoming.

I never cared about such occasions. I thought of it as a total waste of time.

Wesley Stark knew my true nature and never spoke of this event.

My belief soon changed its course, since I had boyfriend.

"Wesley I know Homecoming is soon. And people need dates right? I mean it's a big deal right? Do you think he'll ask me to be his date? I mean I..." I stuttered and stammered.

I was excited, yet irritated, since it wasn't the normal me. I never cared about things of such. But change happened.

Wesley looked angry and though he tried to keep a fake smile, I knew him too well. However, the girl in love within my soul had decided to ignore Wesley's countenance.

"Listen Ray, he's your boyfriend. So who else would he take to the homecoming, if not you? You're Mark and Ray. I think he'll ask you. He should."

I had no words. I could only hope for I felt my boyfriend was going to the Homecoming without me.

He might have been perfect before my eyes, but in reality he had a soft spot for playboy acts. Mark was quite a Casanova on the inside.

Lord how I hated being in love. I was totally ignorant of everything.

"Oh well. School's almost over. How about we get to our usual spot?" Wesley suggested.

At that moment my phone vibrated in the pocket of my jean pants.

It was Mark. I was so excited.

"Sure I'll catch up with you. I just got a text form Mark. It says he wants to see me now. I'll meet you there Wes!!" I yelled as I waved Stark good bye while I ran to see Jackson.

After an hour or two, I finally caught up with Stark at the pavement. I sat beside him and placed my arms around his neck.

"High school might not be so bad after all!" I said.

"Someone seems burnt up by joy today. Why so excited?" Wesley asked.

"Ah...Nothing...but something. You'll see." I answered him with butterflies in my stomach and rushing rivers in my heart.

Mark had asked me to be his plus one for the homecoming, but I decided not to let Stark know that day.

I should've told him. My joy made me an idiot. How stupid teen love can be. It does make one a fool.

"Well, save it. I've got news of my own and you have to promise to say nothing till I'm done." Wesley said. His eyes were filled with excitement and enthusiasm more than ever.

"I'm all ears Wes." I replied.

"Ray, you're a great person and I'm honoured to be one of the few people that know you. Every bit of you is perfect though you still think it isn't. I love that you're my friend and to me every inch of your imperfection is a step towards perfection. I've got only you for a true friend and I don't want that to change."

" What I'm trying to say Ray is recently...I...I get these throbbing sounds in my heart whenever I'm beside you. I smile like a fool these days, even when I don't get what you're saying. I count my words just to make sure I don't sound stupid and at the end I sound more stupid. But you just laugh and then my heart is healed for putting a smile on your face."

"With you an hour seems like thirty minutes and a whole day, an hour. A part of me doesn't want to see your face because then, my palms get sweaty and my tongue runs dry. The other part of me always wants to be by your side because when you're absent, I'm filled with fear and worry. It's kind of like my heart's about to stop without you but, when you're with me I'm alive. It was confusing at first and weird. But it's clear now...I think...No I know I...I love you Ray! I really do. I'm sorry I just brought it up and I know you have a boyfriend...but...but if it's not too late, would you like to go to the homecoming with me?"

Wesley held out his right hand.

This time it was for more than a handshake.

I was such a fool. I would have saved him from the embarrassment and awkwardness. I left him hanging once again as I tried to smile.

"Wes I'm sorry. What I refused to tell you earlier was that Mark already asked me...and I said yes. I'm so sorry. I had no idea...I just..."

Wesley laughed so hard I saw lazy tears perched at the corner of his eyes.

"It's alright Ray. I just did it, because I thought that dude Mark asked someone else. I didn't want see you get hurt."

I knew he lied. He had to lie. Wes had opened his heart to me and I stepped on it.

An awkward moment was built up which lasted for what seemed to be an hour.

Wesley broke the silence after he cleared his throat.

"Hey, your Dad's quite late today. It's almost dark."

I pitied him.

"It's alright Wes. You can go."

Stark gave a smile.

"Just because I made a fool of myself doesn't mean I'm going to leave you out here. Here take my hand Ray."

I did.

"Now take lock my little finger in yours."

I did that too.

He smiled

"Ramona Becky Taylor, as of this day I make a promise to you on this pavement. I will never leave you no matter what happens. I'll always be by your side. I'll do my best to protect you. Your smile would be my happiness and your tears my sorrow. I'll never let you go. Forever I'll hold on."

I stared at him. I had no words. He was an angel.

"Okay Ray. Now cut the bond. Just break free."

I wanted to let go. But I wanted to stay that way as well. I felt safe. A lot of questions filled my mind.

Was I making a big mistake? Did Mark really care about me? Was I blinded by infatuation disguised as love? Was Wes the right guy? My brain floated in the realm of confusion.

"Ray?"

I let go at his call.

After a long stare I broke the silence.

"Where'd you get the poetry from? The internet?"

"It's not a poetry it's my promise to you. Geez! I made it up. I might be a writer someday and the world will crave my books. I'll be William Shakespeare the third!"

"And who's the second?" I asked in an attempt to completely erase the awkwardness between us.

"I just called myself the third in case there's someone better than me at writing. After all I'm never a first choice and right now I'm not sure about being a plan B. You should understand Ray."

We both laughed.

It was a joke but a cruel one.

Wes had considered himself less than a second choice because I turned him down.

A nasty aura built up around us again but in a few seconds I got rid of it.

"I don't think my Dad's coming anytime soon. I'll start walking." I said to defeat the absurd tranquillity in our midst once more.

"I'll walk with you."

"Wes I can take it from here. Besides your Mom's a little late too." I told him.

Wesley smiled.

"About that Ray...um...I lied to you. I go home myself. I live in the same direction as you. I just feel better when you get into your Dad's car. Then I take off. Don't get me wrong, its simple courtesy. That's all."

I was astonished by his words.

"Alright dude I think you're just trying to make me feel bad. It's not great that you lied. But I've got to admit that's so sweet! I'm glad I'm walking with you. You know what? You might be better than a plan B after all!"

We both laughed and hastened our steps for the moon peeked through darkened skies and a few stars had begun their glow dance.

I spotted Dad's car. A blue Honda which was just few blocks away from the Library.

I ran towards it with joy in my heart. The man could make my heart ache and made it leap sometimes. After all, he was my Father. The only man I loved and truly cared about before Stark and Jackson.

The Honda was parked beside an old truck. I had never seen my Father park his car in some place that wasn't a suitable parking space.

He always made sure his ride was parked neatly with tyres straight and three or four steps away from other cars, to prevent any mishaps.

I increased my steps and called out for my Dad several times.

Fear filled my heart and my legs began to shake when there was no reply.

I stumbled and my knees got scratched on the tarred road, but the pain of a thousand needles felt like a pat on my skin for my heart longed for another.

I was so sure it was his car. It had the right plate number.

"Dad?!"

I got closer.

Wesley called me but I turned deaf to the sound of his voice.

I got to the driver's seat.

There he was my Father and the scene that gave me the first set of outrageous nightmares.

The seat had been lowered and it took a horizontal form. He lay as though he was asleep.

His white shirt was soiled with red at the centre of his chest and like a joke he held a red rose towards his wound with both hands.

I refused to believe it.

I shook my Father and screamed.

Everything was blurring.  My eyeballs were soaked in tears.

Wesley had dialled 911 and he tried to console me.

I touched the red on my father's chest; I stared at it.

I gazed at my palms and almost threw up at the sight of the fresh blood that swam across every line on my skin.

For a while I was out of breath and I turned to Wesley with eyes widened

"Wes, what's this? It's got to be paint or some sort of drink right? What's this Wes?!! Damn it Stark! Don't just stand there! Answer me. Please at least tell me my dad's going to be okay! Please tell me this is a prank! Please!!"

I shook my Dad violently.

In a glance I remembered my mother's death.

Sadly I didn't see her corpse at the time she died.

All I remember was my father's excessive drinking that night.

He stumbled over and over while he tried to walk away from the bar. I also remember how I cleaned the cut on his fore head from the fall he had.

He smiled at me and with no sober reflection but the laughter of one insane he announced my mother's death.

I refused to believe him. He was drunk after all.

I couldn't sleep till the next day. I rushed to my sober father at morn and his announcement of the previous was solid truth.

Without a cause or facts, he had always kept the reason for my mother's death hidden from me.

It took me a while to realize that my mother was gone forever.

Things were not the same.

My father lost his friends and even his company.

I begged him not to move for the selfish cause of my laxity towards starting a new life.

He was the one who wanted to move to Los Angeles not me. So he had no right to die without telling me about my mother's death. He had no right to let me suffer alone.

I wasn't ready to become an orphan. I wasn't ready to roam the lonely world on my own. I wasn't ready.

"Dad?! Dad?! We weren't supposed to move to L.A!! Just because mom left us doesn't mean you have to leave too. Please wake up Dad! Dad!!"

I lost my voice after a while and I became weak.

I let my almost numb fingers graze my father's skin.

He was cold. Too cold.

His lips were pale.

I looked at his hair. The ugly whites over-shadowed the golden strands as I had predicted.

He had to wake up. He had a lot to tell me and I had a lot to tell him.

I stared at the rose on his chest. The red on its petals made me sick.

I was about to pick up the devilish flower from the dried red lake on my father's chest when I heard sirens from afar.

An ambulance was near, but I couldn't hear a sound.

Someone screamed over me. It looked like Wes. He was saying something, but I heard no words.

Sorrow had made me deaf, dumb and numb.

My heart skipped certain beats and soon it was quite hard to breathe.

I saw my Dad's body bagged up by the paramedics who had seen a lost hope.

My eyelids hurt from endless tears and my throat was sore.

I wanted to call out to my dad but I couldn't.

My father was gone forever.

Everything was blurring. I lost strength.

Something felt warm. It was Wesley's arms around me.

He shook me and said something. I couldn't hear a thing.

The world slowly faded from my eyes.

Darkness soon replaced the pain I felt in my heart. I think I lost consciousness.

"You're right. You did say you'll never leave me. But that day was embarrassing for you Wes."

I looked at the grown man that held me.

Wesley Stark did keep his promise. He never left me.

"Yes it was. It was awkward too. One of the worst days of my life! Cupid totally denied me, just when I thought we were friends. I'll repay that petit angel someday."

We both laughed.

The dark but almost purple sky with glowing spots appeared. It was time to return to my little home.

"I've got to get home quickly. Mrs Beckley won't know what to do with the laundry I gave her. They must have been dried by now and my apartment is locked." I said.

"Mrs Beckley seems to be a nice person." Stark said as we walked.

"She is. And so is the little red-haired girl. Tina. They're the only ones who talk to me." I replied.

"It's been a while Stark and my neighbours still treat me like an alien."

"Just give it time Ray. It'll all work out."

"I pray so." I replied.

We kept talking on and on.

Five years had passed and Wes was still with me. Somehow I had to make sure it stayed that way. I wasn't sure how but I knew I had to.

After a long walk we finally got to my neighbourhood.

As expected, the first person to rush into my arms was little Tina.

Her eyes were focused on Wesley.

I felt so happy when I saw the twelve year old blush. It was so cute. Her green eyes reminded me of Mark.

I felt a rush of love for a second and then pain. Wesley read me somehow and hugged me for a moment that I wanted to be years.

While I hugged him I gazed upon the beautiful night sky.

The crescent moon looked like a set of white teeth and just then a shooting star flew by.

I made a wish in my heart. I wished Wesley Stark would never leave me. My wish became a silent prayer.

We parted ways, Wesley Stark and I. All I could think of that night was his hug. It was warm.

I hopped like a little damsel on the hallway.

I climbed up a few stairs leading to my apartment and at the site of what lay at my doorstep; I had no words for the first few seconds.

Fear ate up the veins in my limbs and I fell.

My heart ached.

I prayed once again.

I got my phone from my pocket and dialled the only number on my call log.

"Wesley?" I called while I stared at the object in front of me.

There it was.

A devilish flower lain on the footmat at my door step. A rose. A red rose.