1 PROLOGUE: THE ACCIDENT

"Please, don't go, Clark!" Kylee begged as tears poured out of her lovely blue eyes.

"I have a bad feeling about this trip. Please, don't go. Please, stay," Kylee pleaded once again. Clark's face softened and painted a melancholic smile on his face.

"It'll be fine, Kylee. It's just for a few days, and I will be back, I promise," Clark reassured the timid girl beneath him. Her eyes glistened, desperation swimming in her orbs.

"I don't want to go either, but my parents won't let me decide. They said it's important I must go. Don't worry. When we get older, my parents won't be able to force their power onto me. We will finally be together . . . for ever," The seven-year-old Clark spoke while holding onto his smile.

Kylee, who was two years younger, could feel that something bad was about to happen to her cousin and best friend. She was eager to keep him here, eager to keep him safe, but she knew she couldn't stop his parents' decision.

Clark hugged Kylee closely.

"Please, don't cry. I promise I'll be back for you. This, to you, I swear. Break it? I wouldn't dare." He looked over his shoulder, his smile faltering at the fact that he probably was never going to see his friend. Her cries could be heard around the neighborhood. It brought pain to Clark's chest. The sight of her parents standing at their doorway, a frown carved into their faces, only added to his agony.

"Okay, it's time to go, Clark," Tom said as he took his son's hand, gently pulling him away. That caused an uncontrollable sob to escape the little girl's quivering lips as she reached out to grasp Clark's hand.

"Don't leave me." Her tiny voice shook at the end of her plea. Clark stepped forward, cupped her cheek, and pressed his lips against her forehead.

"I'll be back," he told her with a sigh, but her cries only grew louder, and she grew more desperate to keep him with her. "Kylee, stop crying. It's only for a few days."

Tom knew deep down he was lying to the kids. He had no plans of letting Clark come back for as long as he would live. They had all decided to keep Kylee and Clark apart for the fear that the family's secret will be out should they fall in love with each other. Based on the way they are now, there was no doubt that they would.

Clark looked at Kylee for the last time before entering the car with his father. As the car drove out of the Westen Mansion, Clark screamed out to Kylee one last time, "I promise I'll come back for you!"

He felt his own eyes sting with tears as he sniffed and rubbed them. "I promise," he whispered to himself.

A few minutes after Tom had driven out of Freeland, he noticed a black car following him. He didn't have to look again to know exactly who the driver was.

"Clark put on your seatbelt and stay down," Tom ordered.

Clark furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, panic rising within him. "Why, dad? What's wrong?!"

"Don't ask questions! Just do it!'' Tom yelled in frustration at his son. He then reached for his gun under his seat, startling Clark seeing that he did not know his father owned a gun.

"Are we going to be fine, dad?" Clark asked, fear evident in his voice. His father stayed silent for a few seconds causing chaos to spark within Clark's stomach.

Then the man finally replied, "Yes, we will, I promise."

Tom knew better than to lie to his son, for this was the first time he had ever lied to him more than once in one day, but he couldn't risk losing him to the demons in the black vehicle.

As the strange vehicle got closer, they began shooting at Tom's car. Clark shrieked and finally ducked, his ears aching from the loud sound of guns going off. The bullets broke the windows that were ephemerally protecting them before those men arrived. The bits splattered everywhere, specifically on the huddled boy beneath his seat.

He was scared, confused, and desperately in need of answers. His body vibrated, and he shut his eyes, gripping onto the closest thing next to him as his father overtook the vehicles in front of him. The gunshots never died down. He didn't know whether it was coming from the men, his father, or both.

Clark had no idea what was really happening.

With one hand on the wheel and one holding his gun, Tom turned a sharp corner causing his car to shrill. When he felt that they were going to make it after giving his pursuers a large gap, the car suddenly slowed down until it came to a stop. Tom's eyes widened as he began slamming his fists against the steering wheel.

"I can't believe this! Really, you couldn't have found a better time to stop! You just had to stop here!" Tom yelled out in irritation. Looking out his side mirror, he spotted them closing in, and he swore beneath his breath. The cancelation of movement and his father's voice immediately made Clark sit up.

Tom glanced at him then to the vehicle before he asked, "Are you okay? Did anything hurt you?"

Clark frowned and shook his head. He opened his mouth to say something, but Tom cut him off by grabbing his hand and pulling him out of their vehicle. Not wasting any more time, Tom led them both into a nearby bush, stranding his now bullet filled car on the side of the road.

"Don't worry. We are going to be fine, okay?" Tom breathed heavily as he ducked, bringing his son to his knees. He cupped both of Clark's cheeks, examining him. Tears were leaking from his eyes. He looked like he was on the verge of breaking.

Tom engulfed his son, seeing how heavily he was breathing. He wanted to say something to calm him down but stopped when he heard a vehicle pull over.

The black car parked behind Tom's car, and instantly, four masked men stepped out from it. They began to separate themselves then moved to both sides of the area to begin the search of spotting Tom and little Clark.

They were scattered around the area like a new game of marbles, each one of them with a gun in hand. The road started to clear up as time passed by. The men were no longer in sight, but their vehicle eyed Tom vehemently.

Out of instinct, he carried his son on his shoulders quickly to where the men parked their car, jammed it with his key, and sped off. He looked back to see a man come out of the bushes, pointing his gun at the vehicle. Tom clenched his teeth and pressed harder on the gas as bullets cracked open a window. Clark gasped loudly and ducked as his father turned a corner.

Feeling relieved that they finally made it was short-lived when a black Jeep from nowhere hit the car with full force. The impact caused the car to spin before colliding with a tree. Time seemed to freeze as Tom cried out in pain, his head thrown back from the pressure pressing against his back and stomach. He called out to his son but got no response. He turned his head, trying to shift in his seat, but the agony in his lower half refused to allow him. When he tried to speak again, he blacked out.

Tom was out for a few minutes before he finally woke up. Even though he was bleeding from his head and definitely his torso, it did not stop him from pushing his way out of the car. When he was out, he dropped to the ground, blood trickling down the side of his mouth. He looked around, his eyes scanning every inch of the unfamiliar area he had crashed in. When he didn't spot Clark, he groaned loudly and pushed himself off the ground.

He sighted his phone on the ground and quickly picked it up. Relief filled his chest when he realized that it was still functioning. He quickly dialed the cops to inform them of his attack and Clark's kidnap. Tom dragged himself to the nearest tree to sit as tears filled his eyes, knowing that he had failed his son. He could only hope and pray that Clark was safe, and his kidnappers are cut as soon as possible.

It didn't take long before the cops and the ambulance arrived at the location Tom mentioned early. Tom was now unconscious due to the injuries he had and was rushed immediately to the hospital.

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Tom finally gained consciousness after a while. He could feel the soft hand of his wife Vanessa on his hand. Looking into her sienna brown orbs, he needed no one to tell him that she had been crying nonstop.

"Any news about Clark?" He finally got himself to say as he struggled to sit up on the bed.

"No," Vanessa replied, her eyes stinging with unborn tears.

"We'll find him, my love," Tom assured, trying to calm her down.

"I know Tom, you need to rest, and get bet-" She stopped to see who was entering the room only to see it was the doctor and an unfamiliar man.

"Good day, Mr. and Mrs. Tom. I'm detective Mike. I'll be the one handling your Son's kidnapping case," the man said, a British accent thick in his tone.

"Good day, detective. Any news on my son?" Tom asked, trying to ignore the pain stabbing at his wounded body.

"Yes, sir. That's why I'm here. The black Toyota you spoke of early was found at Greenville plantation." The man's thin lips parted as he sighed heavily before finishing. "It was involved in an accident, and the car caught on fire."

Vanessa covered her mouth with her hands to prevent herself from screaming as tears uncontrollably strolled down her cheeks. Her eyes blurred, her throat tightened, and sadness stabbed at her chest. She could feel her knees turn to water as she choked on her sobs, her fragile body quivering. Jerry, the doctor, who was standing next to her, quickly held onto her shoulders as she slowly fell back to her seat.

"And my son?" Tom asked as tears pooled his eyes. He already knew the answer to his question but wanted to hear it from the man himself.

"I'm sorry," The detective began as he averted his eyes from the melancholic family. "The body of a little boy was found in the vehicle — barely recognizable. The coroners will take the body to the morgue where you will be allowed to come down to identify the body."

A wail escaped Vanessa's lips as she squeezed her eyed shut, the images of her son's burnt body stabbing against the walls of her brain. Tom clenched his teeth and looked at his wife. The corners of his lips sunk, and he gulped the lump in his throat away. Jerry lowered his head.

"I'll go," he spoke up when no-one else uttered a word. "My brother and his wife are in no condition to identify the body."

Tom quickly shook his head and rapidly blinked his tears away.

"It's okay Jerry, I want to see the body," Tom said, and Jerry glanced at him, a frown painting his lips. With one look from his brother, he nodded.

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A few weeks went by, and Tom's body was healed well enough to visit the morgue. Walking in, he kept praying that he was wrong.

When he got to the body, his breath caught in his throat, and his fingers trembled with every attempt to open the body bag. Noticing his distress and him not being able to open the bag, Detective Mike raised a hand signaling that he should come to a stop, then proceeded to open the bag himself when Tom dropped his arms at his sides.

When the crisp of a body was revealed, Tom's knees became water, and he grasped onto the metallic bed carrying the body to steady himself. It was burnt beyond recognition. Then his eye landed on something shiny — something he recognized. Tom's pulse slammed to a stop when he saw Clark's neck chain that was customized with his name around the boy's neck. Disbelief filled his chest, and he shook his head, finally allowing the tears to escape.

He couldn't believe it. His son was gone.

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Desolation consumed the Westen family as Clark was laid to rest at the Westen Cemetery. Disbelief still stabbed at Kylee's heart. She kept on blaming her family for his death and isolated herself, which slowly pushed her into depression. A month after Clark's, death Kylee tried committing suicide, which led to her suffering a major head injury. She luckily survived the jump, but she lost all memories of her early life and her best friend.

OUR FLAME (Aways & Forever)

Written by: Uzowei Tehillah

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