The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.

I sat, silent, leaning against the wall, my hands wrapped firmly around my knees. My eyes were closed, for even opening them would not remove the crushing darkness. My lips were dry and I was parched, but what use was eating or drinking when it would only sustain the one thing I did not want; to live.
I leaned my head back against the wall and winced as the memories whirled again.
She laughed loudly and shook her head at my antics. I stuck my tongue out at her, walking still like our grade 9 teacher had done, not caring what any other thought. She laughed again and linked her arm through mine, launching into a vivid opinion of exactly how idiotic Professor Ehab had been.
We walked at a leisurely pace pointing discreetly at the people walking on the road and giggling like a couple of loonies. Our conversation altered from how sexy British accents were to the potential psycho paths in our college. There was no sequence or any logic, but still the conversation made perfect sense to us.
We stopped to buy ice cream at the corner of the road. "110rs." The salesman said. She turned to me and asusual shrugged, "I'm broke." I rolled my eyes as I reached into my pocket.
"Tell me something new, you idiot." I told her as I looked for change. She grinned and walked on, licking her ice cream, turning to stick out her tongue at me.
"Here." I said to the man handing him some money. I stood patiently waiting for the change. I turned my head to watch her crossing the road.
A swish of wind blew past me and I saw a car turning wildly around the corner. Straight for her.
My ice cream fell and I screamed, "WATCH OUT!" Her eyes turned to the car speeding at her and she turned to run, her eyes catching mine. They shone with fright as the car hit her. I screamed, calling out for her desperately.
I turned my head as the tears ran and clutched myself tighter. The silence crept around me until I was afraid to breathe in case I upset it. She had always been there to break it, but no more... No one was there anymore.
A creak sounded. I recognised it as the sound of the door opening. Why could they not just leave me be?
"Hey." A low, deep voice whispered. My eyes opened and widened slightly at the familiar brown hair and kind face. I turned away. Footsteps sounded as he walked toward me. He sank on the floor next to me and did not say anything, offered no sympathies or suggestions as many did. He just sat quietly next to me.
"Why did you come back from America?" I asked turning to face him, my voice hoarse from not speaking in a good while.
"I heard a friend needed me so I came." He said simply, turning to me. His eyes shimmered with soft familiarity.
"You didn't have to." I spoke. He smiled softly and reached forward wrapping his arms around me.
"Of course I did." He whispered stroking my hair. I clutched his shirt.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because I promised I'd be there for you every time you needed me." He said.
"She promised that too." I spoke, my voice breaking at the end.
"But she never left you alone. She made sure I'd come." He said rubbing my arm.
"How?"
He took out a piece of paper from his pocket, "She left this in her will for me."
'Return to her for I have left, but she cannot be alone.'
I cried on his shoulder and he let me. I knew I would never be alone for she would always be there.
Ilma Zuberi.
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