By A Rose

|CHAPTER ELEVEN🌹|

After a few weeks of abstinence from the world of communication, an unknown angel convinced me to get a new phone and get in touch with the real world. 

I was grateful to the unseen.

I was told by my reflection that I looked horrible and I knew it.

Weeks of crying and cracking my skull while segregating myself from any form of interaction with humans had paid off with the presence of folds, skinny shoulders, weak limbs and dark circles beneath my sunken eyes. 

I lived worse than I did in Los Angeles. 

I never ate breakfast since I woke up at noon every day, due to lack of sleep that was caught up in the hands of the bastard called fear. 

My lunch and dinner remained the ever faithful junks I always ordered. 

I lacked it all. Blood, good health, it was a miracle I was still alive. I presume a God above the skies, like we were taught in Sunday school while I was a child, protected me.

I knew there was no reason for this God to keep me but I had to believe I was kept by him. After all, Christians often say he is a merciful God. And somehow I prayed to him every night, though I was not so close to him. 

Surprisingly he heard my prayers and granted me the gift of every new day, whenever I felt I would not see the next sun rise. In short, my belief of his existence was what kept me through. In my castle of junk and tears I had to keep believing in this invisible God.

On another perfect day of junks and tears, while trees began to lose their leaves and decorated the streets in brown and red, I received a call on my new phone.

"Hello?"

The person on the other side sounded like a child.

"Hello? Ramona? Hello?"

It was a child and I loved that voice. I could recognize that voice anywhere and I did miss it. I placed the call on speaker and filled the lonely house with a very familiar sound wave.

"Hey Tina! What's up? How are you? I'm sorry I never return your calls. I'm really sorry. I missed you so..."

My happy Barney-like me, was cut short by the unsteady squeals of the little girl.

"Tina are you alright?" I asked.

"Ramona? You've got to come back please. It's terrible. Mama said it was going to go away as soon as you left...but it's started again...I'm scared Ramona...I don't want to..."

The little one went on and on. I hoped it was not what I thought it was. 

The Crucifier? 

Why would Wes strike again? That heartless bastard! He could have just moved to Denmark. He was under the law and it would not have been hard for him to locate me. He could have killed me and left the others in Los Angeles to live in peace.

"Shhh! Tina I can't get you. Just take in a deep breath and tell me what's wrong. What are you scared of? What happened?"

"Ramona...It's...It's Wes...He's...Mama said I shouldn't trouble you but I think you should know...He's...Wes is..."

"Wes? What's wrong with Wes? Is he okay? What's wrong with him?" I asked Ramona so many questions about Wesley, the poor girl was speechless. 

I sounded stupid. 

The little girl's tears became a quick chuckle. 

So much for ignoring the killer. I realized I was still in love with Wesley Stark. It hurt more than what the girl child was about to tell me. That I was sure of. I being in love with Wesley was even more painful than me committing suicide. I hated him so much that I loved him more.

"Well...Wes was almost killed today Ramona. He was attacked by that psycho killer you guys always talked about. The one with the roses on dead people? Wes said he didn't see the culprit's face since he was hit from behind...but...I...after Wes fainted, the psycho hurt him some more with punches and kicks and a rod thingy...He has a few broken ribs now...Well the psycho stopped after he saw me...I...I was close by so I sorta saw the person too."

My eyes became so large in my head that 'sunken' would have been more than just an understatement. I was shocked.

"Wes wasn't the killer? That's impossible...the evidence...Did he really get them from Mr Conner? Did he really love me?"

More thoughts ran through my brain but I tried to pull myself together.

"Tina I'm sorry dear. You said you saw who it was? So...Wes wasn't the killer?"

"Of course Wes wasn't the killer! Why would you think that? I thought you guys were close friends. Besides he's the only adult you really interacted with before Nathan. About the killer...I know I used the word 'he' but I'm not sure if it was a man or a woman... Whoever it was wore a mask and so much clothing it was hard to tell if he or she was male or female. But the psycho did look manly so I guess it was a man...Oh well that's all I'm telling you for now. Mama's gonna be mad at me if she knew I told you this. She wants me to keep quiet for my safety. Mama says you had to do something more important than us, that's why you left L.A, but I know that's not true. You'll tell me all about it when you get back and you'll have to come to home if you want to get more info on the killer...Though as a friend I'm quite concerned with your safety so you can just stay wherever you are. It seems the killer has no idea of your whereabouts, since he or she is still here in L.A. But if you want to see Wes no problem. I'll use Mama's phone to text you the address of the hospital he's been admitted to. I wouldn't tell a soul you're coming to Los Angeles. It my promise. Pinkie swear! Mama's here gotta go. Love you!"

The little girl's voice still rang in my ears. I missed that little rascal but I missed Wes even more. I had to make sure he was alright.

Three days after the unscheduled call with Tina McQueen, I was on the first flight to Los Angeles.

Denmark was my first home. It was the place where I was born and though Los Angeles was the beginning of my nightmares, I could not resist the bond I had with it. 

I had to be in L.A. I had to see him. 

He said he loved me but even if that was a lie, it didn't matter because I loved him. I had to see him. I had to see the man loved. I had go to Los Angeles for his sake. I had to see Wesley Stark.