After I called Wes, I stared at the rose on my doorstep and tried to stand but my legs were weakened by fear.

I thought I knew fear all too well. I thought I was ready to take in anything.

I hoped the long lost dread in me had become boldness of some kind. 

Well, I was wrong.  For fear and despair mocked me at the sight of the single red rose at my doorstep.

"All these years...After all these years, I try to open my heart to a new world and you just pop out of nowhere. What do you want from me?!" I asked no one. 

Just then, a familiar figure walked up to me and laid her gentle hands on my shoulders.

I felt warmth on my shoulders.

Once again Mrs Beckley displayed her upmost care.

Mrs Beckley became a mother to me. Somehow I got that parental vibe from her. It was something I hadn't felt in years.

And though, I didn't admit it out loud, joy leaped about my soul whenever she wasn't so far from me.

"What's the matter dearie? Are you alright?" Mrs Beckley asked. 

I gazed at her.

What was I supposed to say? What could I tell her?

If I let the truth pour out my lips, the innocent woman would hear my tale of how a killer from five years ago had caught up with me.

I would become worse than a mental case to her.

I didn't want to scare her off. I wanted her to remain the sweet old lady next door.

If I told her about my past, I'll be alone and back to where I started.

"It's nothing Mrs Beckley. Just cramps. Surely it'd go away soon."

"Cramps?! Cramps?! Sweetie that was more than just cramps. I heard you scream a while ago and I caught you asking Mr Invisible certain questions. Cramps did that? Normally I'd say you were just soliloquizing but it seemed like you had lost it for a sec. Are you sure you're alright?" Mrs Beckley asked with concern.

I needed to get rid of her. I needed to think of the next thing to do.

I couldn't remain outside my home.

I wasn't safe and the elderly angel wasn't safe either.

I spotted the basket of laundry Mrs Beckley let down. It was filled with clean clothing. My clothing.

I pulled myself together and stood up while I took the basket.

"Mrs Beckley I'm grateful for the laundry and your concern, but after such a long day I think you need to rest. I'm fine and I think I just need to rest too." I said.

"Honey, you're sure nothing's wrong. I just..."

I walked briskly into my home and attempted to shut the door on the poor old woman.

I had no choice.

She might get in the way and annoy the killer.

I had to protect her. I had to protect myself.

"Mrs Beckley I'm good. Thank you so much."

"Darling I just want to..." I slammed the door so hard its hinges hung loose from the aftermath.

 I dropped the basket and sat on the floor.

I squeezed my knees upwards and locked them in my arms with my cheeks pressed hard against them.

I shook all over.

It was happening again. The killer had found me.

I tried to calm myself but there was no courage left in my bones. The damage from five years ago still resided within every cell in my body.

I gnashed my teeth as they vibrated violently. I tried biting my lips but instead, the pressure caused them to tear. 

In the midst of my sorrow and hurt, someone banged the door.

 I jumped up and crawled away from the door briskly. 

The sound became louder and the pressure on the door had more force.

Could that be the killer? Did he come back?

I ran into the kitchen and got a knife.

I ignored the existence of the handle and went straight for the blade. I held it so tight, my fingers bled.

The knife was really sharp but I didn't care. It wasn't pain when compared to what I had faced five years ago.

The door shook from the throbbing sound.

The person on the other side knocked continuously.

Then I heard a voice. It was calm and soothing.

"Ray are you alright? It's me! Ray? Ray? Please tell me you're okay. Ray!!"

How could someone care so much for me?

I stared at the door, while I tried to catch my breath.

I was silent for a long while and gazed upon my fingers.

Finally I was calm, but I felt the slight pain from the cut.

"I'm alright Wes." I told Stark as I opened the door. He walked in. 

After he shut the door in haste, he took my right hand.

"You're bleeding. What happened? I saw the rose outside." 

He walked around the room and searched for the unknown like the detective he was.

I remember now. Wesley Stark decided to join the Police Academy years back.

After he left college, he became obsessed with catching the killer since other security measures made by my father's company had failed.

His intelligence and dedication kept him in the academy until he finally became a detective.

Wes walked around some more.

"Was anyone here? Did anything change when you came in? Was there..."

"Wes I'm alright. I met no one. The cut is just an accident. Well, an accident I caused for myself. I'm so silly." I told him. 

He glanced at me for a while and walked into the bathroom.

In less than a few seconds he stood beside me with a first aid kit in his hands. 

Wes took my hand.

It felt warm.

He cleaned the wound, it hurt.

Then he wrapped my fingers with a bandage he found in the kit.

I didn't care to know how he found it. It just felt right. I felt safe. 

"Just sit here. I'll get you something to drink and we'll go to the station. Also could you help me dial Mr Conner's phone number? He'd want to know about this." Wesley said as he made his way to the kitchen.

"Do you really think Mr Conner would help? I mean since he couldn't catch the killer and all...I mean... It's been five years now and I just don't think he'll be interested anymore. I'm just saying." I told Wes, while I held his phone in my wounded hand.

Mr Conner was the detective in charge of my father's murder.

He had promised to find the killer.

A killer who turned out to hate everyone in my life.

Mr Conner did everything in his power to protect the ones I loved, but it failed.

Painfully, everything he did was in vain. For, Wes and I were the only survivors.

Wesley walked towards me and offered me a hot beverage.

"Listen Ray I know you're not happy about this and you're scared. But right now we need all hands on deck, if we're going to get this bastard. I can't stay idle and let that joker place red roses on the dead body of everyone close to you. If what happened today's a threat, then we need to find that killer before he'll cause any harm."

"I get it Wes. I do. I just don't have the strength for this. I want to get the killer too, but I'm not sure if anyone from our past would like to hear of this. Mr Conner must've started a new life. I think he must have retired or something. I really don't want to disrupt the little peace he has right now."

I said scrolling through the numbers on Wes' phone carefully.

"Well there's no harm in trying. Let's just give him a call and hear what he has to say. Okay?"

"Fine! Whatever! But I'll be more than ready to say 'I told you so!'."

Mr Conner's phone rang but there was no answer. I called again and he didn't pick up. I smiled and held back the laughter in my throat.

Wesley offered me his hands.

"Instead of claiming your victory, this is the part where we pay him a visit. Don't you think?"

I held his hands while he pulled me up.

I slipped but he caught me.

I gazed into his eyes. He looked more handsome now.

"Wes I don't think this is a good idea, but if you insist, then let's do it. After all you're the last one I've got to hold unto." I told Stark.

He smiled at me and replied "I know that and I think this is a good idea. So yes I do insist."

Our hands were locked and soon we ventured into the dark to locate good old Mr Conner.

Mr Conner's name brought back memories. Memories of high school.

My father was dead and homecoming was over. The seventeen year old me had started to open her heart to high school.

I was a teenager like everyone else. And like everyone else, I started having problems with the other kids. One of them was Mark's ex-girlfriend. Rhonda Jones.

Rhonda was one of the few girls who had tried to connect with me when I was still a newbie. I rejected her attempts at first, but later I started to like her.

We became friends but we weren't so close since we belonged to different groups.

She was a cheer leader. The skinny girls team.

Skinny girls who tried their best to look pretty and dated the hottest guys in school.

I was far from her, but every little moment we had, we cherished. I thought it was going stay that way, not until she started making crazy moves.

Whenever I got my lunch in the cafeteria, she pushed it away and gave me a lengthy tale of how she had tripped.

In art class, my shoes always had a new design from paint being poured on them since Rhonda often claimed her canvas was too small.

I never left the science lab without something on my hair or a new feature on my face.

I ignored it all. It didn't hurt. I already felt the worst of hurt. My father's death was the most painful thing I had experienced.

Everyone in school knew about it. They knew what it looked like.

The Rose. The car.

It was in the papers.

I had always dreamt of a better me on the front pages of the newspapers and not a clarified display of my father's death.

Soon enough my father's death became the talk of Los Angeles.

Why wouldn't it? The man was rich.

He gave everything to me in his will. But for so called 'protection', I had to give it all to relatives I had never seen before.

All I was left with was our house in Denmark and a certain amount of cash my dad had put in my account before he died. 

The first few weeks in school after Dad's death was a pity party.

I received favours from teachers that hated me.

Everyone wanted to be my personal tutor.

Even the principal gave me special treatments. 

If only they did it all when my Dad was still alive.

A part of me loved the attention, but still I felt it was all useless. Therefore in a way, I appreciated Rhonda's incapability of pretence or faked pity towards me.

Some people thought Rhonda was wicked for the pranks she played on me.

I didn't care.

She claimed it was a mistake.

Her justifications for her actions were filled with "Oops this" and "Oops that". 

I gave no room to her excuses and her actions meant nothing to me.

At least she was different from the rest of the crowd and sometimes I found humour in the way she wasted her time and energy trying to make me feel bad.

A few days later, I discovered the reason for her behaviour.

My source was the best friend to high school students. Rumour. 

Mark had dated Rhonda, but broke up with her when he got to know me. Rhonda got jealous and claimed that I stole her boyfriend.

I had to put a halt to the stupid situation. It wasn't me. I loved drama but I hated being a part of it. 

I tried to call it off with Mark, but he often gave me the same excuse over and over again.

"I know what you're trying to do Ramona. I love you. This isn't your fault and I'm going to stop to this. I promise."

I always ended our conversation begging him not to anything to Rhonda.

It was quite pitiful actually.

No matter how many times I tried to push him away, Mark always made his way back into my life.

On a cool day after sport practice, I strolled to my locker and saw something that stirred up fear in me.

A red rose hung lazily on my locker.

I remembered my father.

The hole in his chest. The blood.

Anger boiled up within me. 

I suspected just one person.

My eyes were filled with tears. Hot tears. 

The nerves in my palms were burnt by an invisible flame.

The veins on my forehead and knuckles twitched continuously in request to a certain human's downfall. 

My heart ached in pain but overcame fear and all I saw was Rhonda on the floor in a pool of blood and a rose on HER chest.

I was scared of this evil image but I also wanted it to occur in reality.

She had crossed the line.

I had taken enough nonsense from that girl and she was going to pay for it.

I marched into the girls changing room pushed Rhonda against the wall, and tried to choke her.

I wanted her dead. 

Other girls tried to pull us apart, but anger and fury had lent me great strength.

I was furious.

I felt rage.

I don't remember it all, but I do I got into trouble with the Principal. 

I was pardoned for my dead father's sake but I didn't care.

Wesley gave me a speech of a thousand words about forgiveness, but I didn't care either.

I was mad.

I hated myself for letting her go.

I knew she was my friend, but I wanted her dead.

I wanted Rhonda Jones dead.

The desperation and awkwardness that came with my hunger for vengeance soon passed away after a few days, but Rhonda and her friends thought it best to avoid me. Most of the girls did actually. 

I lurked in my own world for everyone called me a monster.

Some said I looked like I had been possessed by a demon when I attacked Rhonda. 

Since nothing special happened in school, all the students in junior and senior year never stopped talking about the 'hornless devil'. Me. 

I prayed for something to take their minds off my case.

I enjoyed the distance they kept, but I never wanted to be treated like an outcast by anyone.

A good thing came by soon enough. 

Mark's birthday was near and he wanted to throw a huge party.

Finally a distraction! 

Mark invited everyone in school but Wes opted out. I tried to convince him but he took his stand.

The party was in a word 'wild'.

There were teens in bikini, and some in nothing but bubbles and straws.

Drunken teens, horny teens, wasted teens, lonely teens and hyper teens filled Mark's large home.

I knew my boyfriend was a calm person but I never thought him a Bill Gates.

For certain reasons of safety and orders from the investigators of my Father's death, I had never seen Mark's home until his birthday party.

It was a huge building with a pool for hundreds, on a vast plot of land settled on a cliff.

The pool and every corner of the beautiful building reeked of alcohol, cigarettes and something else I couldn't recognize.

I took a stroll to the edge of the cliff for a gasp of fresh air. The view of the sky from the cliff was amazing.

I stared at the night sky and in a moment Mark's arms surrounded my waist.

I felt his breath on my ears, but couldn't tell its difference from the fresh breeze that brushed my cheeks. 

"Having a good time?" Mark asked. I smiled

"I am. The view from up here is just amazing. I really wish I came here more often."

He spun me around and I looked into eyes. Those beautiful green eyes that struck me the first time we met shone brighter.

His hair wasn't parked into a ponytail. He let it fall and he looked more handsome than ever.

He caressed my hair gently.

"I really love you Ramona. And who knows this might be yours someday."

"The future's still far away you know. You're not trying to bring up marriage again are you?" I asked. 

I hated cheesy stuff like that, but I also liked it.

"I'm not. I'm just trying to let you know how much I love you." Mark confessed.

"Well I know already."

He held me closer and his grip got tighter. It was warm and relieving on my bare skin.

My crop top hung loose and I felt his breath on my shoulders. I shuddered.

He laughed.

"I just thought girls love the thought of marriage. They like a guy without commitment issues."

I held his arms and let my neck feel his lips.

"Mark Jackson I'm not other girls."

"That's one of the many reasons I'm in love with you." He replied.

I stared at the night sky.

Little white dots spotted the dark sky and the full moon glowed in a space that wasn't the middle.

It was beautiful.

The music from the party was drained off by that beautiful moment.

In an instant it was disrupted by Rhonda's voice. 

Suddenly, I wanted her more than dead. 

She looked skinnier in a short pink and very tight gown. Her blonde hair was in disarray. She looked drunk.

"You know, those were the same words you told me Mark Jackson. The same words! You said I'll have everything on this cliff. Everything!! You said you loved me Mark but instead you used me and left me for this tramp!!"

I walked up to her in anger "What is wrong with you Rhonda?! I don't get it. You're..."

"Hush there newbie! You just love the attention don't you? Oh look at me I'm a new girl! I need a new boyfriend! My dad's dead, pity me! I'm tired of it. Just cut it out Ramona. You're not the only girl who's lost her parents!! So for once in your life! Shut up!" 

I had no words. She said things that hurt but they hurt even more because they were true.

She pushed Mark and he fumbled at the edge of the cliff.

A tussle began between crazy ex and boyfriend.

I tried to break up the two.

"No Ramona! Don't come any closer. She's drunk. We'll both fall down! I'll handle it." Mark said.

I stayed low but then my eyes caught something in Rhonda's left hand.

A knife!

The rays of the moon glided off it's blade. It shone in the moon light.

"Mark!!" I screamed.

Rhonda swung the knife to and fro. The tug of war continued between sane and insane. 

I prayed silently while my heart remained at pause and restart.

Mark tried to dodge and stumbled.

He was in and out.

He tried hard to maintain his balance and then like a bad dream he fell.

I ran towards the edge of the cliff.

"Mark!!Mark!!!"

 I turned and Rhonda had disappeared.

The party was over in a glitch.

A few hours passed and the cops arrived.

I followed them to the bottom of the cliff.

We searched for Mark and after a while we found him.

He lay on a damp log. A dark liquid crawled slowly from a hole in the middle of his chest and he held a red rose.

I screamed so loud, nothing came out.

The detectives told me it was my father's killer. 

The detective in charge was a tall brunette.

His facial skin was smooth but intruded by the presence of a moustache. His grey coloured iris pasted on a huge cornea, shone from behind his glasses in the moon light and his voice had an authority that came with its bass tone.

It was the second time I met Mr Conner after my father's death.

He pointed out that the kill was same but somewhat different since Mark was shot.

Unlike my dad who was stabbed by what I could only describe as a thin and pointed blade, from the size of the hole on his chest, Mark was taken down by a bullet.

There was a search for evidence, which was found in a short while. 

Somewhere in the bushes a piece of pink cloth was seen and strands of hair. Blonde hair. 

Rhonda was arrested.

She claimed she did push Mark, but was sorry for her actions.

When she was asked by the detectives the reason she killed my father, she became quiet.

All evidence pointed at her being the killer.

No one requested for her alibi since she did push Mark and disappeared before the cops got to him.

Still she denied.

I met up with Wesley later that week and he apologized for not being at the party.

We visited the station together every day hoping something would come out of Rhonda.

After a few weeks, just before she was taken to court and convicted of murder, Rhonda claimed to have a new alibi.

She quivered while she spoke. 

"I...I have to confess. Like I've said before, I did push Mark, but I didn't kill him. And I didn't kill Ramona's father either. After Mark fell I went to look for him. He wasn't dead. I used a staircase at the left side of the cliff. Then I heard someone approach and I hid the behind the bushes. I couldn't figure out if it was a male or female. Whoever it was wore a hooded jacket and baggy pants. The person shot Mark while he was alive. The person also placed a rose on Mark's chest. I tried to make myself scarce but I was caught. I couldn't see the culprit's face. It was covered with a mask. Whoever it was, warned me and let me go. The voice was deep, so I think the killer...was....a man? I can't really remember everything but all I know is I've never killed anyone in my life!"

Mr Conner hit the desk hard "You expect me to believe you?! You're a primary suspect and you must have fabricated these tales. Killer in the bushes?! A staircase at the left side of the cliff?! Really?! So this mysterious person just waited at the bottom of the cliff for you to push Mark, and then completed the job with a bullet."

"I swear! If you think...Look I know about the staircase because Mark showed me once while we were dating. The bottom of the cliff was a short cut to a cinema nearby and Mark could drive as he pleased since no cops were ever around. I could show you today if you want. I would have back then but...Let's go now...You'll see the staircase. I'm not lying! Besides it took the cops over an hour to get there, so that should have given the killer more than enough time to get to the bottom of the cliff, or something like that...All I know is that I'm telling you the truth! Ramona I haven't been a good person to you, but I'm not so heartless. I could never kill your father or Mark. I loved him!!I loved Mark!! Please I know there's no reason for you to believe me but you have to! Please!" Rhonda begged.

I decided to give her a chance.

We set out the next day with Rhonda. Three cops secured her in a police van, while Wes and I tucked ourselves in Mr Conner's really old Audi V8. 

Surprisingly we found the stair case Rhonda spoke of.

 Wesley held my hand tightly while we walked down the stairs.

When we finally got to the bottom of the cliff, we found a gun. A 9mm. I turned to Wesley.

"She was right!"

"We're not sure till we follow the cops to the station and they check it for fingerprints. Besides, why didn't the cops see it that day?" Wes asked.

"For starters, the gun was found beside the end of stairs no one knew existed."

Suddenly we heard gunshots from above. The sound echoed at the bottom of the cliff.

The ominous aura was accompanied by scattered birds and little scared creatures which scampered around us.

Mr Conner turned to his men and screamed "Go! Go!! Go!!!"

We ran up the earthen stairs as fast as we could.

Sweat dripped nonstop from every pore on my skin.

In that moment like a toddler would, I wished I could fly. 

We finally reached the top of the cliff.

They were dead. The three cops we left behind were dead.

Rhonda Jones was gone.

"That Bitch!! Find her!" Mr Conner cursed.

"Detective! Over here!" one of the officers called from a few steps away.

 I counted my steps in fear while I walked towards the scene that caught everyone's attention. 

I traced red liquid that tainted the ground in spots.

For a moment I closed my eyes shut and hoped it was just blood and nothing else.

 There she was Rhonda. She was dead too.

She was laid straight on the ground.

Her skinny body made her look like a stick.

A lifeless stick.

Her chest was soaked in red liquid.

Her arms were crossed as she held a rose to her chest.

A red rose.

Just like my father. Just like Mark. 

Rhonda was dead, but the killer was free.

Horror filled my soul and my heart was clouded with despair.

Why? What did I do?

My head was full of questions but my fists were clenched in anger.

Forlornly the killer had slipped right through our fingers once again.

The grown Wesley Stark and I got to Mr Conner's home after a few calls and research through files at the Police Department.

Wesley tightened his grip on my hand.

"I'll do the talking. You just try to keep calm. Everything will be fine".

"I know that." I replied.

Stark smiled and turned to knock when I pulled on his coat.

"Wes?"

"Yes." he answered.

"Thanks." I said. 

He smiled.

I had a lot to tell him. I wanted to tell him I was scared. I wanted to tell him to turn back. But I ended up thanking him instead. I was truly a coward. 

 Wes had hardly placed his hand on the door when it screeched open.

"Stay behind me Ray." Wesley said.

 I did. 

He took out a gun from within his coat and let his gentle voice fill Mr Conner'.

With every cautious step he took, I followed.

"Mr Conner. Are you here? Mr Conner!"

There was no response.

We parted ways and searched the building.

I walked into a well-furnished study. It was far more beautiful than all the rooms in my apartment. The books were neatly arranged.

I looked around in amazement.

There was a reading table at the centre of the room with a lamp on it.

The table rested steadily on a beautiful carpet.

The study lamp was still turned on.

A book was also opened on the desk.

"Mr Conner must have been here." I thought. 

I walked towards the desk to switch off the study lamp.

Just then, I threw up on the brown leopard spotted carpet at the sight of something horrible right behind the reading table. 

"Wesley!!" I screamed. Wes came running.

"Oh My God!" was all that came out of his mouth.

He held me close.

It felt warm. But I was cold.

Mr Conner lay on the beautiful carpet in a blue bath robe.

He was half naked. His bare chest was dug deep at the centre. 

Strands of little white, grey and brown strings on his chest had their tips stained red. 

His eyes were closed. Those grey eyes had been shut to the world forever and still he looked peaceful. 

In my brain, filled up with confusion. Nerves were tangled in fear and anxiety. 

It seemed like Mr Conner had a smile on his face. 

Blood flowed without restrictions from a hole and swam across his chest like parted lakes while they crept into the blue cotton that lay loose on top the old man's skin.

Both of his hands were locked together and they held something. A rose. A red rose.

Wesley Stark held me close while tears flowed freely like the Nile and my limbs weakened.

He held me tight. It felt warm. But I was cold.