Ticking time bomb

I dont own rights to this photo

He held her face,firmly yet so gentle, passionately that she could feel the intensity…That rising peaceful tension that bridged them together. She toyed with the curls on his head as she always did. She knew he loved her touch…His body constantly craved for more.

In that silence with herself so vulnerability to him so exposed, a little tipsy and now in only lingerie she sat on his laps. He didn’t resist her.instead he adjusted himself to make her comfortable.she  loved the freedom in the recklessness she was slowly growing into. Her tongue traced his neck. She knew him well enough to predict what spot the switch would be and she definitely had the skills to turn it on…She wanted this,wanted him . She knew his love for her was real….


He felt every sensation in him hightened. In that moment all there was to the story the two of them. He was eager to respond to her touch. How she played with his hair,how she manouvered his body like an art critic ready to judge the authenticity of a piece. In that moment he cupped her face he would kiss her. He would give her the world without leaving that room…

Queens are girls who got power

************* I’m sorry it’s been this hard. You’re safe here but this isn’t what you need.’

His words sent confusion to them both. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t taken the chance. She couldn’t believe it either. But he was right she didn’t need a quickie to be her emergency response. She needed a solution for the explosive about to detonate inside her. Empty bathrooms were no longer enough. Crying herself to sleep wasn’t working anymore. She was in code black and had no idea what to do. That was how she found herself in this situation. Vulnerable before someone, ready to expose her reality.

‘What do I need? Can you give me that?’

‘You see  love you’re overwhelmed,you need a vent but you’re also a queen. That status doesn’t allow you the luxury of feeling.You’ve had the world on your shoulders but make it look like you’re using the world as a stepping stool. But I see you and I know you.You know what you need and I’m going to give it to you’re

His words were just right. She collapsed on his chest and finally exploded. Sobbing and punching him.she let out all the frustration she had kept in for so long. All her life she knew the only way to survive was to put up a firm front. He was teaching her to let go. In his arms as she cried her demons out as she walked out fear she knew she loved him.

He would let her crash then afterwards help her build an empire. He understood that being an iron lady wasn’t an easy task. She loved him for the fact that she could let go of her fortress when with him.

‘ it’s okay…Sometimes you need to be just a girl and I just a boy and nothing else matters.’

This is for all you strong women who sometimes carry weights too heavy for you. It’s okay to be vulnerable. It’s okay to be not okay. You do you,keep up with the fight,face the world with your game face on and if it feels too hard it’s okay to let it out. It’s time somebody took care of you.


#diary of 1000 girls


Bright light

Look into the light

They say you can feel it, that your senses get heightened at that moment; every sound is pounder,colours are more contrasted and there’s even more lustre in stones. For those who are into fan fiction you get it more.It’s basically alot like the transition process into being a vampire.

She was at that point. If this was were a fantasy she was about to join the mystical crowd of the undead….But it wasn’t. Reality was that this transition was to something else.  She had a new thirst for life, she wanted to be reckless, impulsive and even dangerous. She was turning into a person she didn’t know. Of all the surprising things what was most prominent was her feelings. Now more than ever she felt things from the deep end. Anger was rage,attraction was fanaticism, and love… Love had found a way to mix with passion and she felt like she was a balloon that couldn’t take more in. 

What she hated from this process was how forced to hide it. At a time where she knew she needed to let it all outher natural reflex was to put up a front. Queens never show weakness even when they are going through the greatest amount of pain.

She sat at the back of the lecture hall,her hands under the desk. The trembling and numbness were back. In such a short period everything had taken a turn for the worst. She had tried being strong once, not taking the pain medication for a day.Her attempts had almost broken her. Unlike  most people she’d spent most of her teen years seeing different doctors she could almost make a directory of them by now.

Finally,not being able to hold it in anymore she got up and left class. She was weak and abit high from all the drugs. The side effect of trying to keep it together. She held back her tears nobody could ever know she felt broken. Nobody needed to know that she had started feeling how people feel just before they walk into that light. She hated that she had nobody to share what she felt with. That soon she would be gone and would have never experienced half the things this world had in store for her.

‘Not just yet’she whispered to the light she saw when she closed her eyes,’I need a bit more time’ she pleaded.That side seemed so much better it would mean no more pain,it would mean peace,freedom yet she longed for another more time in this world.  She wasn’t ready to leave on her early twenties. Wasn’t ready to leave before feeling true love, achieving a few dreams.she wasn’t ready to break her father’s heart. She wasn’t ready to believe that she was just a pawn for someone’s queen.

Ironically, she was also ready to go. She had seen it, seen that better future with zero pain. She had seen that place where here her mother didn’t resent the fact that she had made her broke. In a small bathroom stall she wrote her bucket list. She knew her time was near but she was going to leave with one hell of a parade. She would be a legend and nobody would ever remember her for weakness or pain. She would be associated with love, courage,joy ambition and all the things she had shown in the front she put up.Her only regret would be in not finding that converted ‘love of your life’s. Everything else she had done her best. She could see herself slowly get drawn to the bright light,the aurora of it all and she was ready.

The fact is that so many young people are burdened with illnesses and conditions that take so much from them. They are weighted with such heavy burdens while so young. After a while they get tired or maybe their fight just isn’t good enough and they loose. This piece is dedicated to all young people with different medical conditions. The kids burdened with so much that at some point they stop being teeenagers,or kids or young adults and are forced to save those they love from the ugliness of it all. You are never alone, your fight is worth it and your strength is enviable.

To those who have lost loved ones after years of pain. You can trust that they were heroes in their own way. We don’t know why some of this things happen but they are royalty in their courage, strength and ambition.



Reserved tears

She had assumed she was okay, that she had everything under control. All this had worked out perfectly until she found herself seated on a wet bathroom floor. Wet from both the water she’d been running on the shower and the  years of tears she had been holding back.
She didn’t want to close her eyes. Everytime she did all she saw was anguish,hate and a form of brokeness that was slowly killing her. She has let him touch her let do things to her that she shouldnt have. She had done things too things that the hot water on her skin couldn’t​ wash off. Things that no mouthwash could could cleanse and she despised herself.

She judged herself though she knew she had made the right choice. Saying yes this time had saved her from all the  violence that ussually followed her each team she resisted. She picked the lesser pain to her. To loose her dignity in a way no one would ever know instead of loosing it in a public way.

As she cried her soul out in the bathroom she thought of how many times she’d found herself in such a situation. She wondered if any other person had gone through what she had been going through for more that half of her life. You never get used to sexual assaults no matter how many times it happens.

First time she’d been assulted she had no idea what what happening. She was a seven year old girl who knew that something was wrong. She also knew she couldn’t tell anyone because she didn’t even know what she would say. Few years later when she was eleven it happened again and this time she knew what had happened. She got hat same feeling she’d had when she was seven and immediately knew that she had been assulted at seven at it was happening again. This time before she could tell anyone a story went down and she was the villain. The eleven year old guy who went kissing a boy in class during a class sleepover when the lights went out.

By the time she was sixteen she’d been though way too much to even love herself. She’d been through enough to know telling wasn’t helping. The type of questions they asked were condescending: what were you wearing ?have you had a one night stand before? did you say no?did you do something to trigger him? Is he your boyfriend? Were you alone together?

That is why when somewhere in her mid twenties she was raped by someone close to her shed didn’t even bother trying to report it she simply went to bed and tried to live life normal. That was working well until it wasn’t. That was how she found herself​ in this situation.

She knew she still had to be strong so get up,wrapped a towel on her body, put a few eyey drops in her eyes and walked out of that bathroom like she was okay. You see, she couldn’t tell her father because it would break his heart. The man loved her more than he loved himself and knowing he couldn’t protect his daughter would be just homicide. There’s no way she could tell her mom she on the other hand would just ask the same questions the hospital nurse had asked her and she wasn’t ready to be judged. 

She was done telling anyone since the last person she told called her a slut and went on to be in that very long list of people who molested her. 

The reality is so many women and girls are sexually assaulted ,slowly broken down by the brokeness in their souls. So hurt and alone by the fact that they have no one to tell what goes on in their lives without loosing their  dignity. Statistics prove that most people who are sexually assaulted don’t tell, more statistics show that people whole been sexually assaulted once also end up getting multiple adults in their lives.

This statistics shouldn’t be a reality they need to  change. Something needs to be done. There has to be a way to show love to all this people without breaking them or making them feel worse about themselves. Thing is it’s never their fault and no girl or woman should ever have to feel guilty for being assaulted.

#GIRL 51


 why 13 reasons why ?

Like many people I constantly make the choice not check a series rating before watching it.Like many people sometimes we fail. The biggest issue in liking something with high ratings is the constant fear that maybe  you  don’t legitimately like the series or movie. That your aesthetic preference was biased by public opinion. That was the case until very recently….

I’m sure by now you’ve heard about it and if not then you will soon .The short series that has taken over millions. The one that got a 9.0 rating on IMDB (Pretty Impressive). It took me by surprise too which is what got me to this point of massive reflection when I asked myself Why? WHY 13 REASONS WHY.

Other than that very high rating I love movie adaptation of books…The vampire diaries, Riverdale,lord of the rings,fallen. So if you like books this is an adaptation of one. THIRTEEN  REASONS WHY by Jay Asher.

Well branding is everything. The name itself draws you in. I mean who wouldnt be drawn in by such a name after all it uses on of the numbers that’s the pillar of modern superstition. Personally, the unfinished statement in the tittle did the trick…Like why? Why what? Why 13? And eventually I was like…Why not?

*Disclaimer: there’s a level of spoilers from this point on*

Hey…You can adjust whatever device you are  reading this on…

The themes raised in this series carry heavy weight in the society we live in. The drama that comes along with Highschool the type of drama that can change someone’s life. Then there’s bullying. It’s the main issue addressed in 13 reasons why. The fact is bullying  is almost never physical, that’s just a  small percentage. Most of it is psychological. The cliques and the rude comments. In this specific school we can see it going around and parents and teachers don’t spot it in time.

This leads to issue number two. Depression. The extent and effect of depression are touched. From the girl who was falsely slut shamed,the mom who’s daughter kills herself,the guilt filled kids who’ve gone through stuff they shouldn’t have to go to and even the cool kids who carry weights bigger than the trophies on their shelves.

Lately there’s so many movies trying so hard to pass on the  anti homophobic message. It’s a noble attempt yet sometimes they kinda make it worse by placing certain stereotypes. It’s refreshing to see this stereotypes are missing in this work of art. They bring out same sex couples in a light that feels realistic to me. Plus ofcourse, it considers  the reserved lot of humanity by not being  explicit.

Since I already got into the sex talk. I’ll just mention my other reason why. It’s simple. 13 reasons why is relatively PG.It is the type of show that you can watch with your parents and at the same time watch it with your thirteen year old siblings. For those of us who still close our eyes at kissing scenes you are safe😂.

It’s almost unerving how this show keeps you glued to the screen. It’s like a drug but just the right dose since it ends after only afew episodes. Meaning if you’re scared if TV addiction you can relax. After all we all need closure. We simply have to know all thirteen reasons.

Ive decided to be mysterious and let you figure out the rest of the stuff by watching  it (that’s if you haven’t already).If you’ve watched it I sure hope you learnt a thing or two. That maybe you found comfort through the narration for issues you might be going through or went through.

The end result of watching the show is I’m enlighten. I was actually motivated to make my own list. I choose to call it 13 reasons why not.  I’m going to write my reasons to living. Why I would struggle through all issues in life. Why I will help others want to live and I’ll make a point to be  living my life and not just stay alive.

#girl 50


Rude Awakening

Something different happened as I took my very ussual route to school. Right from when I stepped out of the house there was a difference in the atmosphere.  It looked like a huge disaster had happened the previous night and now disaster management was trying to clean up. In reality,the disaster had struck ages ago.
I leaned on the window of the vehicle and slowly watched the biggest hoax of the decade unfold before my eyes. To put things into perspective it’s April 2017 and in Kenya that means it’s campaign season. The time for the craziest stunts to be pulled off by aspiring political leaders. 

There were trucks on the side of the road and manual labourers busy fixing the drainage system. Blocked sewage pipes were being unclogged and pavements were being swept. Then there was the cliché stunt they pull of every five years.potholes being filled. At this rate this little county was a masterpiece of development. It’s also not hard to miss the colourful billboards no longer advertising commercial products but political figures. In all honesty I’m starting to feel like we are part of some national beauty pageant with all these carefully branding and aluring catchphrases.

We’ve all seen this act before every fifth year the country goes through peak development with so many projects under development and rising employment rates then after elections we hit a four year dry spell with the country slowly being dragged into the mud.

A passenger seated next to me made a remark on how tired he was will all this games being played.I felt a stab in my chest he had hit a sensitive spot. Citizens were basically being insulted by those they entrusted with their futures. I don’t mean to say that citizens take no fault in this situation but the leaders are to blame too. For treating us like fools like children who can be appeased with candy to forget problems.

All this damage control should have never happened in the first place. If only people opened their eyes and realised they’ve been foolish in their greed. That they spit on the hand that feeds them. Instead we have a  huge bunch of leaders who treat us like children constantly winning arguments by making faces behind our backs.

In all this gloom I left that matatu with  a smile on my face. Because another reality dawned on me. Kenyans are becoming smarter more and more people have seen the light. More children who grew up watching a failing system are coming of age and can now vote and be elected. There’s a new breed of Kenyans creeping up on this unsuspecting leaders. A lot of Kenyans asking the right questions. These are the people that give me hope that if not in this tenure then maybe in the next we will have people in power who actually stand for what the people believe in.

Woe unto those hypocritical leaders who think they will rule in this madness forever. True patriots are rising and it will be such a tragedy when their own children dissociate with them.  When they wake up one day and nobody wants to buy the fake dreams they sell. The day when they’ll realise that the true power is within the citizens they’ve so cruelly betrayed.



Blank reflections

She walked past the frame of her shower cubicle into her room. The room was still hot from the shower she had just taken and the mirrors still masked with settled steam. With her palm she wiped of part of the steam so she could see herself. She stood there for a while staring into her reflection as thoughts traced her mind. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually looked at herself in a mirror. All she had done is take the quick ‘does my butt look big? and do I have something in my teeth?  glance every morning before leaving the house. But not today. On this night there was something different.

She felt a sensation rise under her skin and with that she dropped her towel letting it meet the ground in a scandalous rest. Slowly she walked out of the bathroom and into her adjoining room. She could feel goosebumps rise on her skin as she moved to the cooler environment. Her mind was somewhere else…Distracted…Unbothered by the cold… Disconnected.

Finally,there she was standing in front of a full length mirror fully naked… Vulnerable and exposed. She looked into the mirror and what she saw surprised her. Her fingers weakly traced her silhouette and she found herself unable to contain the build up of intensity. She broke down into tears. She hated her reflection.

The girl in the mirror was lost. She was simply a body with no sence of identity. All she saw was an afro,a crusifix necklace,a beautiful face and tiger stripes on thick thighs. She hated that she didn’t know the girl in the mirror. She didn’t know herself. The description she’d give about herself was from external influence. Some stuff she wasn’t even sure she stood for. Her soul was crushed by the blank reflection in the mirror… 

She leaned in towards the mirror meeting her palm with that of the stranger in the other side and with a strained whisper asked ‘who are you?’

What happened to her seems to be happening more often to people today.It is ,in my opinion, the reason why so many millenials are considered rebellious. We simply wake up one day realising we don’t know who we are. We look into a mirror and the reflection is that if a stranger or in worse cases nothingness.So we go out of convention while trying to find answers.

We are brought into this world with a given identity. From gender to race and even religion. Constantly fed with information about who we are from external influences. In the end we grow up strangers to our own selves. Ignorant of our true identity.  

Since we can’t change some things like race or even ethnicity  we have to embrace such things but realise that although we are identified by them doesn’t mean they are what define us. We can’t be locked up in stereotypes of identities we’ve been given by the world. It’s time to know who you are for yourself. Follow a religion not because you were born into it but because you believe it. Wear your afro cause you want to not because it’s a trend for african women, don’t be a good wife cause you’re a woman but be one out of passion for family and if you don’t feel like family then don’t have one and be cool with that.

In my opinion the rising number of people with tattoos and piercings is a result of people trying to define their own identity.(ofcourse there’s the lot that gets tattoos on a drunken spree or as a dare that’s still okay). I think millenials are trying to create their own identity and when they find any form of answer they want to hold on to it. To brand themselves with it as a reminder of who they really are.This shows in their dressing, lifestyle,habits and actions quite radically.

I guess it’s about time we look in the mirror and ask ourselves ‘who am I?’  and make sure we can answer that question in truth. So go on do what you must but in all you do find yourself. Don’t let a stranger be your reflection.



Closing doors

‘should I leave it slightly open?’ he asked her. His hand was already on the switch. This was a routine she had never outgrown.

‘ closed or completely open please. Goodnight,’ she responded and blew him an air kiss. He caught it out it in his heart and turned the lights off.  

This ritual had kept her safe from all terrors little kids fear. The same ritual got her through the rough cramps and sour teen moments. Ofcourse she grew up and moved out and hadn’t thought about that until that fateful day.

Somewhere in her mid-twenties  after weeks of fighting her conscious she picked up her laptop and wrote an e-mail. She was tired of asking herself questions,tired of all the uncertainity exhausted by all the half closed doors in her life.

I’m no even sure how this should go. The thing  I still remember our last night together. It was quiet and even in that heat I felt cold. You didn’t hold me and I didn’t speak. You’re courtesy felt so strained and although we were on the same bed I slept alone-atleast that’s how it felt. 

So when I woke up and found you gone I wasn’t really surprised. The shock came when I reached out and you said nothing was wrong. Against my better judgement I let it be and that’s how I lost you.

So you see I’m stuck here not knowing what happened and part of me blames myself. For being too needy,being too naive,loving you so blindly. I blame myself for not seeing things were crooked earlier. I blame myself for loosing you.  What did I do that was so bad you left without a word.

It feel like ages and my mind isn’t in peace cause it’s stuck in that night when you left and didn’t completely close the door. Monsters can creep in through that space.

Where this finds you I don’t know, but know this I’m sorry for whatever it is that broke us. If you ever miss me or need me I’ll be here and I’ll still be loving you maybe even more. 

She didn’t bother re reading the mail she just sent it to all the addresses she had been given by her informant. You see her brother had left home when she was seventeen. He was her life her bestfriend and he’d just walked out of her life without warning.

Her actions afterwards might have seemed mad. She’d stalked his social media and when she could afford it she hired investigators. Her please was simple she just needed closure. The one thing that could make the sanest of us seem wild.  You see when a door isn’t really closed there’s room for monsters to lurk in. The monsters of self doubt, pity, grief,hatred and even anger. 

Without closure it’s easy to loose the best parts of ourselves. There’s nothing wrong with trying to close doors or in some situations opening them wide.After all doors were made to create a distinct barrier right?

#girl 47


It’s NOT a drill

Model:Stacy Wairimu

She sees things in flashes. Vague confusing flashes. Images of an occurrence that apparently happened but she can’t recall any part of it.  She sees herself as a third party. Like she’s watching a trailer of a series not yet released.

She sat in the examination room subconsciously responding to the nurses questions,her mind was far away. She was mostly distracted by the distinct sharp pain that was terrorising her abdomen. 

The flashes came back. She held close the few images her brain could retrieve. They were all she had. At that moment she only had three pieces of the puzzle. Such an odd retrieval ability. She could remember having that final slice of pizz…time jump and they were watching something while… having a laugh…she was waking up but her body was still asleep.

‘please come with me,’ the nurse said with a strained poker face,’ are you here with anyone?’

That question brought in a new type of pain. She felt chocked  emotionally : all the physical pain was a distant numbness. She was alone. Barely grown yet she was alone while taking such a heavy burden. The people she should be able to trust would judge her and shun her discreetly if not openly.

As she lay on, yet another, hospital equipment a new memory came up . A memory that gave her a good grip of what had happened that night. She saw herself as a stranger asleep…No blacked out…Next to his feet… all she had on was a bra and a pair of pants. She could feel that she wasn’t wearing any knickers . Right then she knew what had happened and tears streamed from her soul. She was now sure going to the hospital alone was smart.

Her mother would never understand. She would be cross and hit her with the ‘ i warned you about such things’ speech. The rest of her family would just mock her and distance themselves. Even if she was not pregnant she would still be a disgrace.

 She thought of the man she’d been with.Her had been so cold to her since that night and now she had an idea of why. Of course people would assume that he now didn’t want anything from her. They’d say he used her and went his way classic hit and run . She thought differently,he was also young as she was so maybe he was just too embarrassed about it to confront her. He could have been as confused as she was over what happened that night.  They had both been too wasted to make sober decisions.

She thought of how unforgiving life was to her.  The cruel reality  that up to this day ,with all the feminism going round ,she still couldn’t go about her sexuality in confidence.  That she couldn’t run to her mother for comfort after making such a mistake because the world would turn on her. The universe would ask her why she agreed to go out that night?why her body was so indecently attractive? why she believed in his love? Why she drank from that cup?

‘Dear do you have anyone we can call?  The doctor asked her  after explaining to her that she wasn’t pregnant but had a growth in her fallopian tube. She wanted to know if the girl had anyone to wait on her or to receive her after the procedure.

‘No I don’t. I’ll be fine’ she said. She knew she could have called her parents,or her siblings or even her friends but she thought against it. They would help her with the physical healing but her mind would still be dying and they would never help her because you see in her world you only get one chance and if an alarm went of it was definitely not a drill. 

#girl 46


Photo credits: thepotraitsguyoninstagram

Model: Stacy Wairimu

Spill it all out

Battle mode

There’s how we all plan to meet ‘the one’. It’s more often than not an act of fate  a form of star cross so intense that in that moment the world stops and all thats left is the two of you staring into each others eyes. Both your souls giving out a sigh of relief that was long overdue… Okay maybe, I’m a bit of a romantic and it doesn’t really work out that way.

I could eel myself loose control. The string holding m together was thinning out with every second.  The best image to describe what I felt is that of someone holding in a laugh. That moment in time when your body just won’t cplo-operate. Your mouth is full of air. There’s that tingling sensation coursing through your skin as your knees start to feel week. That how I felt. Basically trapped in my body seeking some form of ventilation.

This happened to me alot. I  called it the private thought syndrome. Because it’s what was going on. I’d witness something and have an opinion about it but never let it out. Well because we’ve been raised to watch our tongue. The ironic message taught to us that we should be free thinkers but be contained speakers. 

A voice in me nudged me,tempted me ,dared me to let go… It was the perfect prick and I burst out with words and emotions and all my private thoughts leaving my body in victorious glory. It was a form of freedom my soul had craved and yearned for. I felt a burden lifted from me that made me wonder why I had ever tolerated keeping to myself. I wondered how on earth I had been living my life constantly worried of people’s opinions that I never let mine out. I’d been quiet way too long.

Few months down the line the man of my dreams would tell me ‘I knew you were the one from the moment I saw you’ I would wonder what he meant and he would describe to me the day he met a human who aired their views and he would say ‘your courage drew me in like a magnet’

I’m happy I didn’t get my ‘romantic’ first meet. Happy that I found truth. That we can be free from the false courtesy of letting someone step on your shoe and you’re the one who says excuse me, the lie that it’s okay to let fear rule your life, the myth that  keeping thoughts on corruption are a taboo. 

I pride myself in the fact that the love of my life first met me giving a manager a lecture on the unprecedented bias of people in his hotel reception based on social status. 

It’s very simple…Let it out don’t hold back. know your rights, fight for what you believe in…Spill out your guts love.




It’s us now.

He walked in at five in the evening looking more tired than the previous day. He gave the room a quick scan and mumbled something incoherent before walking past them. He must have said… hi, I’ll be in the study don’t wait up …that’s what he said almost every other day so why would it be different today.
The  tension in that house had been growing for months. It had then developed into an enstrangement. At first she had tried everything to keep him close. She’d researched all methods and even tried counselling when she was convinced she was the problem. Eventually she  gave up. The war was lost. All she was doing was lining up skeletons.

She walked past the study and heard the frustrated noise from a keyboard being hit too hard. This ‘stranger’ she loved deeply had resorted to stay in that study as a fort from her. Stranger! That’s what he had become. Because they had been reduced to strangers whose only connections were a bunch of papers and genetics.

The idea of his touch brought her to tears. She longed for his touch. The type of touch that brought in comfort and sent away all doubts. Two years ago he was her bestfriend. He was the only option that really counted. When he told her she was beautiful she believed every word of it. She had put him on a throne, believing in him to a point of almost worship. She could have easily jumped of a plane if he told her she could fly.

How was it possible that the man who had made her win all the ‘my dad is better than yours’ contests was now the reason she cried herself to sleep?She was fifteen years old with a burden  she hoped he could lift of. Part of her wanted to hate him for abandoning her but she couldn’t.because she still loved him deeply. He was all she had. 

Clearly he wasn’t having dinner that night. So she packed up the food and put it in the fridge,cleared the kitchen,locked all doors, set  her alarm and jumped into bed. She thought of writing another apology letter to him. After all she was the reason why ,two years ago,the love of his life had  driven of the road to her untimely death. 

‘Mom look out!’ she had yelled. Her mother veered of the road to avoid hitting a stray dog and next thing she knew she was in a black dress watching  her mother’s body decend into a carefully dug out  rectangular hole under the ground.

A heavy form of pain rose up and she broke letting out all the pain she had held in all day in school. She cried bitterly under her blankets. So lost in her pain that she didn’t hear him come into her room (for the first time since his wife had died). He sat cautiously on  her bed and uncovered her. She was surprised by the look he had on his face. He must have been crying too but he had covered it up.

In his arms she felt safe. She knew this time her salvation was found and when he spoke his words stitched up all the wounds that had torn her soul apart.

” I’m really sorry .I took too long ; I’m here .We have to stick together cause it’s Just us now.”