It was the same cycle everyday, she would arrive at precisely quarter to 6 and stay until it was too dark to make out anything, while we would meet at that same café, none of us ordering anything, just watching.
I don't know what came into us to do such a thing but at that time it felt like the right thing to do.
Everything changed in the fifth week of this procession. It was winter and I could see my breath in the air. The mysterious girl was late and when she eventually came she was in tears.
Instead of a rose she held a knife in her hands but we thought nothing about it until it was to late.
She knelt down in front of the grave, body being racked by silent sobs and held out the knife.
Only now, realisation dawned upon us but we were glued to our seats, not able to stand up and rush to her aid.
With deadly precision she cut a long line from her elbow down to her palm and silently watched the blood drip on graveyard floor.
Wishing I or at least someone would rush to help her I sent a quick prayer to heaven, begging for her to be safe.
As if sensing our gazes her head whipped around and stared into my eyes, straight into my soul for a split second.
Her eyes were the colour of freshly cut grass, vibrant green.
A shudder went through me. Her eyes were full of sadness, haunted by long lost memories that even I could feel her pain and loss. She looked so lonely, sitting there while her blood steadily dripped on her white dress.
She immediately looked away, shame clouding her face.
From the corner of my eye I spotted a figure racing towards the girl. It was a boy from my class, we never really talked for we didn't have anything in common.
As soon as the girl saw him she started crying proper tears, horrified about what she had done.
He scooped her up in his arms and held her tight. After what felt like hours he let go and took her unharmed hand in his palms and led her towards the café we were sitting in.
We all panicked, because we had never planned for this to happen and sat in our seats, stiff as a board receiving weird glances from the other customers.
As soon as the couple entered, a strange hush overcame the evenings crowd in the café.
With purpose the boy strode up to the bar and asked for a bandage and a first aid kit.
As if under a trance the waitress got up and returned shortly after with the said items.
Upon this the boy smiled and peace washed through me. It felt like all would be better and all my problems seemed miniscule, just because of that one smile.
He, as well as the girl, seemed ethereal with his beauty and his eyes, which told stories of ancient times, long forgotten.
Unlike the girl, who seemed to radiate loneliness, a confident, calm aura surrounded him, acting like a halo.
It seemed like my prayers had been anwsered, because he had come just in the right time to to what I couldn't have brought myself to do.
He looked up and saw me staring. Slowly, he nodded, as if to tell me that all will be well now.
Gently he led the girl outside, where it had started snowing. He gave her his coat even though he himself wore nothing but a short-sleeved shirt.
My friends and I all looked at each other and formed a mutual agreement never to speak of these events outside of our circle, because it seemed wrong to tell someone who had not experienced it.
That night I couldn't sleep, thoughts of angels and of a specific girl kept running amok in my mind.