blood

four

The alarm system to the florist's store beeped as Imani opened, then later shut the door. She was met with a friendly face by the middle-aged South Asian florist who stood behind the counter.

The flowers were neatly arranged according to their species and colors in rows so that it had a calming and homely effect on those who were just walking in.

"How may I help you, my dear?" The lady asked, meeting Imani whose eyes were exploring the florist's shop, taking notes of the flowers, both common and exotic.

For the first time, Imani was confused by what kind of flower she was to pick. Not to mention it has been two years since you visited her grave.

Guiltily, she rubbed against her nose, feeling the cool nose ring and septum piercing rub against the back of her hand, trying to quell the torrent of tears which threatened to spill. She could not afford to cry, not now, not in front of the storekeeper.

"Is anything the matter, Mere pri'a?" She heard beside her as she looked at the florist, now beside her.

Blinking, she nodded, not saying anything. She had been so deep in her thoughts that she didn't notice the lady's presence. Not wanting to look like a jobless fool, Imani decided to seek some help from the florist on what flowers to get.

"Some flowers to commemorate grief or for bereavement," she added.

The florist frowned, deep in thought as she looked around the store. For a moment, Imani was scared that she was going to get a reply on how they didn't sell flowers for that kind of occasion until the lady spoke up.

"We've got some chrysanthemum, hyacinths and lily orchids over there," she pointed at a section where red and yellow, white and purple flowers were arranged in colorful bouquets. She then walked over to those plants with Imani following after.

"You can have them mixed if you would rather choose that option. You do not need to pick one or the other," the florist said reassuringly as she stared up at the taller woman.

Making her decision, Imani gave a short nod with a small smile on her face.

The cemetery, as usual, was quiet when she got there save for the creaking of the gates as she pushed them open.

Someone needs to oil these gates, she grumbled as she made her way past the gravestones. Some of them were empty with only stones and pebbles in front of them while others had fresh flowers. One had an old teddy bear that had a whip stitch across the forehead to the nose.

Imani blinked briefly as she walked briskly past that gravestone. It had to carry a painful history: sexual assault, child trafficking that went horribly right (or wrong) or a school shooting. She whispered a quick prayer of comfort for the family of the child as she walked on.

Finally, she stopped when she came face-to-face with the gravestone she was searching for. The title read "In memory of Mikayla Walker-Smith, 2001-2019".

She took a few more steps forward and knelt, sighing as she wiped the dead leaves and withering flowers away and placed the bouquet of chrysanthemum and hyacinth in her hand on top of the grave.

"Hey Kayla," she started, trying hard to not choke on a sob. "It's been three years since I last visited, uh?"

She inhaled deeply as she looked around the graveyard. The atmosphere was fitting for a somber-looking place such as where she stood.

"I- I could not-," she looked down at the tombstone with tears in her eyes. "When you passed on, I couldn't let go- it was difficult coming to terms- I mean, it is still hard doing so."

From a distance, she could hear a few ravens cawing but she shoved their cacophony into the background as she continued, "I- I am sorry I didn't visit you since-. It was too painful and I miss you so much. I'll try to visit more," she ended with a smile before adding with a laugh, "no guarantee though."

She felt a heavy weight lift up from her chest as she stood up, quickly wiping away her tears. She breathed in deeply as she stood there, observing a moment of silence.

It was then she picked up the rustling of leaves as the sound of boots crunching them caused her to stand alert as her hands wandered to the pocket of her jacket.

"You should be glad I'm not some fucked up psycho lurking around to kidnap and murder unsuspecting women," Imani let out a sigh of relief at Zuri's voice.

"You scared me for a moment, Zuri," Imani snorted as she stared into her sister's eyes.

Zuri could only kiss her teeth as she folded her arms, "what were you thinking when you made the oh-so-good decision to come over to the cemetery alone? Were you even thinking?"

Imani rolled her eyes as she walked towards her twin sister, "I'm sorry, okay. I was just-."

Zuri let down her guard as she held out her arm, tapping Imani's shoulder. She leaned her head towards her sister's in understanding of her plight, "I understand but please, don't go alone when you're about to do this, okay?"

Imani looked at her incredulously, "and you didn't come alone?"

Zuri chuckled as they both walked outside of the yard to meet Chisom who looked up from her iPhone SE. "How far na, Imani?"

Zuri gave Imani a vindicated look that read "now you see", "I had to bring Chisom as a plus two so we're collectively safe as long as it is the three of us here. We're going home."

author's note: really, Imani, you should not be out alone at a graveyard when there is a sicko out there. you don't wanna end up like Bethani. 🌚

I just wanna ask, what do you feel about this chapter? I feel like it is getting slow but I swear, it would get better, I am just trying to build things up 😩😭😭

anyway, as usual, thank you for the vote and constructive criticism is absolutely welcome ❤️💜