• Tears streamed down the boy’s bloody face. There were many old cuts on his arms and face covered in fresh blood on his face that wasn’t only his, but partially his mothers. He looked up at the sky letting the rain wash away the blood and tears. He couldn’t understand why they hadn’t followed him as he ran out. He curled up outside his backdoor waiting for his mother and father to come get him; he hoped they would know where he hid. The men were still inside, he could hear the men throwing things around and screaming “Where’s the boy?” His mother and father simply cried they had no idea where you went. But the men had seen him. The men knew he was there somewhere and didn’t seem to want to give up. The candle in the window flickered as the boy heard one last scream from his mother, and then all went silent. He might have been young, but at 9 years old, he knew they were both dead. He closed his eyes and cried, the rain washing the blood off him. He cried. Everything was silent around him, even the trees seemed to stop moving, the rain still pounded against the group yet he couldn’t hear it. A man stood in front of him as he opened his eyes. “Don’t worry son, I’ll take care of you.”


    *~*~*~*~*


    She sat up in bed with tears streaming down her face, not understanding why this had happened to her. She felt like damaged goods, she had given her everything to this guy, and he had told her he loved her. He promised her the world, like so many others had done, but this time she believed him. She felt safe with him, the way his arms fit around her body as they slept curled in together tight at night, the way he kissed her lips gently, not caring who was watching. She touched her lips, remembering his sweet kisses. Her friends tried to consol her by telling her, that it just wasn’t meant to be, that he wasn’t good enough for her, that perhaps God knew someone better for her. She knew this was bullshit. She knew that God had robbed him from her, God took his life prematurely. He died of brain cancer, the doctors didn’t know what it was until it was too late. They gave him migraine medicine and told him to sleep more at night.


    He was one year older then she was, they met on the first day of high school. If someone had told her that long ago that she would be sitting on her bed crying five years later, she would have laughed in their face. They were merely friends, she had had boyfriends, and he had many girls. He was considered the player of the school, and she the slut. Oddly enough, she had never slept with a guy willingly before him. Only kissed and held hands, when things got too serious, she ran away, telling them to brag to their friends about sleeping with me. He was the only one that knew the truth. He was the only one she trusted. They were best friends up until secondary 4. He had been sleeping with many girls at school, he didn’t like the idea of a relationship, and girls were simply a toy to him. When Jane had her heart broken once again by one of his best friends, he was there to comfort her.


    Their first kiss was still playing over and over again vividly in her mind. She sat in her bedroom propped up in the corner besides her bed crying as he walked through the door carrying a bouquet of roses. This was a ritual he started; he’d give her 12 blue roses every time a guy broke her heart. They truly were the closest of friends. He handed them to her, and sat down next to her, “Honey,” Adam said, “he’s not worth you tears, he just wanted someone to ********.”


    Jane looked up at him with her swollen eyes “You mean like you do.” This was the first time she had said anything to him about abusing the good nature of easy women. He was 16, and she 15.


    “It’s not the same” he said silently, her faced turned red; he knew that she was getting mad at him. “I do it because I can’t have the one I truly want”


    “Let me guess, Janice from English class!” Jane countered.


    He lifted up her chin, so her face was close to his, “You know that’s not true.” He whispered as their lips approached, she closed her eyes, thinking about how this is what she had always wanted. He kissed her lips softly, he felt her tears rub on his face. “Please, stop crying.”


    But that was then, before he was sick, when he was still lively. She remembered how it got so much worst, to the point where he couldn’t move from bed anymore, everything hurt too much, he just didn’t have the strength. Every time Adam told her that if anything happened, she had to move on, she would kiss him as a tear fell from her eye “Honey, don’t worry, nothings going to happen to you.” She would wrap herself up under the blankets with him, his arms around her and hers around his arms; she’d kiss his hands and tell him she loved him. Her parents thought she was being over dramatic, being a regular teenager, thinking she was in love with any guy that showed her any attention, but she knew otherwise, she never felt that way about anyone, and she had never felt so comfortable around someone.