The place he lay

She heard wild flowers whispering when the wind blew. It was so quiet in the cemetery. She made her way to the Jason family plots. Ken's headstone was only a dozen or so yards away. She gazed at it.

His headstone was a soft shade of gray. Cecilia approached his tombstone. It still looked fresh. She stood at the grave site, drawing her breath in as she lowered her eyes to read the inscription:

KENNETH RICK JASON

GONE BUT NOT FORGOTTEN

The sight of his tombstone made her heart ache as if it made her heart shatter into thousand pieces. She stared at the dates and read and reread his name.

"Oh, Ken," she moaned, "I don't believe, I can't believe that you've left me in that way," she muttered in a whisper, stepping closer enough to put her hand on the top of his stone. Tears blurred her vision. She knelt at the grave site and placed beautiful white roses against the monument.

Cecilia threw her arms around it and closed her eyes. Tears dropped off her cheeks and fell on his grave. She thought about his warm cheek against hers, his warm hand holding hers.

"Forgive me, forgive me for leaving you too long when you needed me most," whispered Cecilia. "And thank you so much for everything you devoted to me and you prepared for me. Ken, dear Ken, are you lonely here, huh? I'll meet you as often as possible. So you won't be lonely anymore. I miss you, Ken."

There she knelt, her body shuddered with sobs. Closing her eyes, she imagined his face, his warm smile. Her memories went flittering back to the day she'd gone to abroad.

"I'm going just because you want me to," Cecilia said, "Actually, I don't want to go, Ken. Don't you know that I don't want to be apart from you … even a minute?" asked Cecilia. The sound of her began to crack. Ken just smiled and drew

her closer to his embrace.

"Two years are not that long, Cecil," he said. "When you'll have got a diploma there you can get back here and marry me, can't you? And then we'll be together happily and have wonderful times again."

Going on further studies was something Cecilia had set her heart on. She wanted to study cosmetics and to get a diploma of perfume and Cosmetics in France. But when it came to separating from him, she had not much wish to go anymore. The truth was that she had been afraid to be far away from him, leaving the land, where he was left alone and would have been waiting for her return. Because she knew all about Ken; besides his intelligence, he had been a hard worker. He always immersed himself in hard work and been so devoted his love only to her.

But on the other hand, he hadn't wanted to be any obstruction for her, so he'd wanted her to go. Finally, she had agreed with him.

"It's time to get on the plane," said Ken. "As soon as you get there, call me, Cecil," he added, gently touching her cheek with his hand.

"Of course, I'll do," murmured Cecilia, throwing her arms about him and holding him closer. "Ken," she whispered softly leaning her cheek against his chest.

"Umm..?"

"I'll miss you."

"Me, too. I already miss you, Cecil." He held her back

for a long moment, and then pulled back and looked down

at her. When he saw her tears that had begun to fill her eyes, his brows lifted.

"Don't cry, honey. I never want to see you cry," he said softly and she nodded. "I'll miss you, Cecil," he said and paused, looking down into her eyes. With both of his hands on her shoulders, Ken leaned down to kiss her on her forehead, and then on her cheek and his lips finally touched hers; Cecilia returned his kiss. They shared a long soft kiss. But then she'd had no idea if it was long enough for them to be apart for ever.

"Bye, Ken," said Cecilia.

"Bye, Cecil."

Then Ken was left alone, watching her get on the limousine. After Cecilia sat at the window, she saw him hold up his hand, a faint smile on his lips. She smiled back at him weakly. When the limo driver started the engine, his face seemed to begin to crumple. The look on his face put tears in her heart. The limo started away. And then she left him watching her go away on the limo, and then saw him standing there, staring at her when she got on the plane and it took off. And she knew that he couldn't take his eyes off the plane until the sight of it drifted away in the sky. On that day he gave her white jasmines she liked so much.

Cecilia had planned to live in her friend house in Paris. When she got to Belle's and her trunk had been brought in, she'd called Ken. She had been so excited about it because it was the first time she called him from abroad. He had been, too; his voice emotional. Then they'd talked on the phone once a week. During the days she'd needed to study for her examination, Ken'd told her not to call him for he hadn't wanted her to get distracted. When the exam was over, she and Ken had been on the phone again or on the internet, chatting, emailing.

Almost every day as soon as Cecilia got home, she would immediately call him.

"Hello?" she said.

"Hey. I'm here…waiting for you." she heard Ken say.

"Sorry, I'm a bit late, honey."

"I've been missing you all day," said Ken.

"Me, too. And I left you alone there so I'm worried about you."

"Don't worry! I'm fine. Just take care of yourself and your health, Cecil. And what about the food? I'm worried about what you'd said the day before yesterday."

She remembered telling him that she'd lost her appetite for a couple of days. "Oh, yeah."

"Still losing your appetite?" he asked.

"No. I got it back. It was just because of a great deal of stress and …" she paused.

"And what?"

"And it was just because I missed you so much, you know."

"Really?"

"Really. You don't believe me?"

"I do believe you, totally."

"Thanks. And you know I don't like French food very much."

"Uh-huh.."

"But I do think I can put up with it for about a year."

"Winter comes, honey. Every time I see snow falling, I remember our bicycle rides and walks in the snow."

"So do I. Winter flowers are blooming now, aren't they?" she asked.

"Yes. And I'm taking care of your flowers in the garden because I know you're a great flower lover." said Ken dreamily.

"And what else are you doing?"

"And I…I so often look at your photos you emailed me yesterday."

"How often?"

"Um…ten times a day."

"You liar."

"No, I'm not. I miss you, Cecil, really, truly, I do," His voice was so full of sadness she could be near tears.

"I'm sorry, honey. I really am. I shouldn't have left you alone like this even though I know well that we mean so much to each other."

"No, don't be, Cecil," he said. "You should have. Because you have your wonderful life before you. And that's what you really want to do and I know your heart's in it. So I couldn't stop you, and I didn't want to."

"Thank you, Ken. I love you, sweetheart."

"Me, too."

"Thanks again. Thank you for missing me all the time," said Cecilia.

"I bought some beautiful dresses for you. When you come back here, you can just open your wardrobe and choose to wear one of the outfits. I know exactly your taste, don't I?"

"Oh, are you serious?" she cried with delight.

"Yes."

"Oh, my goodness! Thanks again, sweetie. I can't wait to see them. Oh, I'm very happy to have a chat with you tonight." She heard him chuckle.

"And what about you, Cecil? How often do you think about me?" asked Ken.

"Oh, every minute. I've been thinking about you all the time.

Cecilia and Ken'd met on the internet twice a week, and then four times a week, and now almost every day. It had been nearly eight months since she'd been to France.

Three months before her exam started Ken had told her, "The exam's drawing near, isn't it, Cecil? I think we should stop our chatting for a while, shouldn't we?"

"No, I don't think so," she disagreed.

"And in the next few days, I think, I don't have much free time. Don't you think you should study during this time, do you?"

"But…I don't think...," she broke off.

"Well, honey. Not every day, once a couple of weeks, we'll chat."

She'd felt an uneasy feeling sweep over her when he'd said about that. But she hadn't wanted to complain him anymore because he had always been like her elder brother and she'd always listened to him. Has he changed for some reason she couldn't know? But it can't be. He's not a very changeable person, Cecilia thought. Maybe he's just very busy and worried about my study.

More and more days rolled by and by. Cecilia and Ken had a chat on the internet twice a month, and then once a month and he told her not to call him or ask for him to meet on the internet because her exam had been so close. So she had done as he had asked her to. She hadn't called him until her exam had been over. When she had been about to come back home, she had called him. But his hand phone had been powered off, and there had been no one to answer his residential phone. She'd sent messages to him but hadn't got even one back. Cecilia had been really nervous, not knowing what to do. Her friend'd suggested her to call him again. She'd called again his hand phone and residential one. That time Mrs. Julie'd answered, telling her that Ken'd gone out and if she had something to tell him, she could leave a message. So she'd told her that she would be back the next Saturday. Though she had called him on the day she'd gone back, he hadn't answered. Even when she got back here, she had to have known all about him, all about this tragedy.

The breeze brushed the tears from her cheeks, wiping them, and that pulled her from her reverie. Cecilia got to her feet. "Ken, I have to go. I'll come to you later again. Bye, Ken."

With an inconsolable sadness, she started to turn away from his grave. She walked across the cemetery and suddenly felt dizzy and her feet weak. Though she could see her car in the far sight, she didn't think she could walk to it. She swayed and her feet gave way.

"Cecil, Cecil," she heard Flora call her name.

And then Flora and Mrs. Mary, who had waited for her in the car, got out and came running to her.

"Cecil, are you okay?" she heard Flora ask and feel her hands hold her arms.

"Miss Cecilia," followed Mrs. Mary's voice.

They took her to the car and helped her get into it. Flora started the engine and drove away, leaving the cemetery.

During the drive, Cecilia leaned back and gazed out the window. As the breeze blew, she felt a bit relieved. When they got home Flora helped her get out of the car again.

"Are you all right now? Flora asked. She was one of her best friends and today she came here to drive her to the cemetery.

"Yeah, I feel a bit better," Cecilia said.

When they got into the living room, Cecilia went to the

sofa and took a seat. Mrs. Mary followed them.

"Mrs. Mary, please get a glass of orange juice for Cecil," said Flora.

Mrs. Mary nodded and left the room in a hurry. A few minutes later, Mrs. Mary came back, a tray in her hand.

And she handed the tray to Flora and she took the glass. "Cecil, orange juice."

Cecilia took the glass from her. "Thank you, Flora." She sipped the orange juice and felt better.

Minutes later, Flora helped her go upstairs to her bedroom and she said that she was leaving. Then Cecilia was left alone on her bed. She closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep but she couldn't get to sleep easily. Every time she closed her eyes, she still saw his tombstone. "I wish you came back to me like a phoenix, Ken," she murmured. She had been told that those kinds of mythical birds called Phoenix can survive again after they die themselves by burning and rise from the ashes.

Was she going to ever see him again if he returned to her like a Phoenix, flying over the clouds with its wings spreading?

Cecilia suddenly woke up, having no idea when she had fallen asleep. Maybe because she was so tired. She sat up on her bed and her eyes suddenly fell upon the photo frame standing on her vanity table. In the picture, Ken was smiling at her. She got to her feet and walked over to her vanity table. And she picked up the frame, took it to the bed and lay on her back again and looked at the picture in her hand. Her mind went flittering back to the past.