Story Time! (Last Part)

She said nothing on the way, and I wasn’t quite sure what to say, so I stayed silent. As we reached the gate, I saw the true size of the graveyard, it seemed big from the park, but the view from there was merely a fraction, it didn’t seem grim or anything, but the shear size of the place was kind of intimidating.

I was led around the church to a small area at the back. The gravestones were tightly packed together here, there was barely any space to stand in front of them. she pointed, her face showing no emotion, towards a gravestone just inside the third row, it read “James Maple, 1991-2007, rest in peace” nothing else, in front of the grave stood a picture frame of a grinning boy and a plant plot containing a group of blooming lilies. Jennifer proceeded to take the bag off of her back and produced a bottle of water.

I wasn’t sure what to say, I watched her water the plant, then a few plants in front of surrounding graves. It seemed a bit too much to take in all at once, I mean, this whole situation was practically surrounded by death, but now I was literally surrounded by death, and I was afraid. Not afraid of all the people lying around me, but of the fact that any point, one of my friends could join them. I didn’t like that idea at all,
“How often do you come here?” I spoke slowly and chose my words carefully. I didn’t want to offend her again,
“About twice a week,” she replied, not making any eye contact with me, which bothered me. After all, the eyes are the windows to the soul. Then I realized it, this was Jennifer, just on a darker scale, she cared, even after death, she still cared for her friends, that was amazing. The back of my eyes began to itch.

“If…if I lost someone, anyone…I wouldn’t treat them any differently, I’d still visit them, talk to them, buy things for them…care for them,” a tear rolled down my cheek, she finally looked me in the eye,
“And…what would you do?” She asked me,
“I’d go to a friend, everyone needs help at some point in their life. I’d go to you.”

Now, boys don’t normally cry, not unless they really can’t stop themselves, but when they do, they cry silently, and they cry away from those they love. I was with someone I loved, as a friend. I’d lost the schoolboy crush I had on her long ago, back on her desk. I was also crying silently, I didn’t care if she saw, I was only human. She took a tissue from her pocket and passed it to me,
“I’m sorry Robert,” she said, “I lost myself; I just wanted to escape from it all. But, in order to escape, I had to step into a trap. It wasn’t fair on you,”
“It’s ok, I understand,” I’d calmed myself by now, back to a wiser state,
“Really?” she seemed surprised,
I nodded, simply because I couldn’t explain it. She carried on with her explanation,
“I felt like I had nothing to live for, and I couldn’t figure it out. I was afraid.”
“But you figured it out?”
“Yes,”
“And what did you figure out?” She looked me right in the eyes, I felt defenceless against this new, powerful, gaze, it contained many things, friendship, respect, admiration, will, and that kind of love that can’t be explained in any way, it wasn’t a friendly love, but it wasn’t a girlfriend/boyfriend love, it was pure connection, she smiled at me,
“Robert, I live for you.”