My backyard friend was one of my secrets untold. A secret not even my family would have known of, as I made sure that they wouldn't . Every eve, my legs would habitually carry me to the corner of the lawn where in my child hood shoe it lied.

It wasn't a very beautiful weed but I don't know why I felt a spiritual connection to it. When I would talk it would listen, it would dance at my giggles, I could sometimes even see it blush. It heard and took my pains like no other human could ever. While talking to it I even felt like it was replying by an unknown source inside my heart. Surprisingly enough, I would even consider them and continued the conversation. I would tell it how my day went, water it, hide it under the sun, and then said goodbye.

One day, havoc was to be seen everywhere. Bombs were being blasted, blood and bodies were being thrown off everywhere. Cries and screams had made the air so heavy. I finally came to the shattered house of mine. It looked like a hurricane passed by. I couldn't walk in. Fear engulfed me, wondering if my doubts were real.

My shivering ten year old heart seeked a shoulder to cry on, some soul to rely on, a friend to share pain with, when I remembered. My feet took me to my usual spot. I cried and cried for hours near it, soaking it's soil with my salty tears. I watered it and slept near it hoping that someone would come, save us.

That day I even got a feeling that my little friend was breaking from inside, it was not replying to any of my cries. It just listened quietly. I guess it was too much for a little twig too. The next morning I woke up... to find the shoe beside me carrying a dried up withered twig stuck into wet soil.