Chapter 2 J.M

*****

Jason checked his wristwatch again as he stood under the big tall coconut tree waiting, just like he did every other Saturday night.

He cranes his neck again, getting impatient by the second...

It was half-past 5:00 pm since he had sent that little boy and there was still no sign of him...

He was almost giving up when he sighted the boy walking towards him.

He sighs and smiles when he gets nearer...

"So? What did she say?" Jason asks eagerly.

The boy shrugs "nothing. She just told me to go"

"Did she open it?"

"No"

The smile on Jason's face instantly falls.

Like every other Saturday, he would be going back to his dormitory feeling dejected.. Again.

"Okay. Thank you" he tells the boy before pushing some money into the boy's palm.

He grins and runs off.

Jason sighs again...

Ever since he set eyes on Hailey, two years ago when he was a fresh student, he had never been able to stop thinking about her.

He might be just an eighteen-year-old boy but he knew what he felt wasn't the usual hormonal rush in most teenagers. His' wasn't just a crush.. It was love.

Pure and undiluted love.

That was what he felt for Hailey.

And for the past five months, every Saturday, he would give her a gift through that little boy.

Sometimes, he would send her roses. Other times, it would be chocolates and most times letters that he wrote himself baring his heart out and writing things he knew he wouldn't be able to say to her face for a lifetime to come.

But today, he had taken his time to make a painting of her...

But like every other Saturday, neither did she come to meet him, nor did she reply to any of his letters or show appreciation for the gifts...

His mind drifted back to last night when she had spoken to him rudely and walked out on him.

He sighs again.

Hailey would never notice him.

Maybe, just maybe he was going to love her secretly forever...

Jason stares at his wristwatch one more time and walks back to his dormitory.

****

Hailey was seated on her bed, resting her back against her pillow that propped up against the wall...

She was staring at the gift in her hand and a small smile played along her lips.

She runs the tip of her fingers over the beautiful ribbon on top of the wrapper covering the gift...

Whoever sent this must really love her...

But she couldn't love him back.

She couldn't love anyone for that matter...

If there was one thing she knew, it was the fact that the one who sent this gift was the person who sends her gifts every weekend...

All those letters she had received, she had tucked them away carefully and read each every night.

It was her haven.

Her solace.

Her peace.

She sighs as she pulls off the ribbon. It comes off, making the wrapper loosen up.

She unwraps it and gasps audibly when she sees the painting.

It was a painting of her, smiling at the skies, her deep dimples as prominent as ever...

Saying it was beautiful was an understatement.

It was exquisite, perfect.

She was perfect.

Such a painting could be sold for thousands of cedis.

And he, J.M had given her this portrait..

J.M.

That was the initials that was always below every wrapper each time she received a gift.

And staring at the same initials below the painting, she knew without a doubt it was from her secret admirer.

*****

A tear escapes her eyes...

If only she could love. If only...

But no. Her freedom had been taken away from her...

Yes, she was the school's most popular girl. But that was just a fake facade she put on.

Every girl admired her confidence beauty and intelligence.

But behind all that confidence was a broken and lonely girl. A girl who was broken beyond fixing.

A girl whose life was being controlled like a puppet.

When she was alone, and not in the midst of people, her real self surfaces.

She was a girl whose past always haunted her every single night.

When everyone yearned for the sun to set so they could have a good night's sleep but she?.

She always dreaded nightfall. Because it was when all her nightmares and past came haunting.

No one knew of her sufferings because everyone saw her as the perfect one.

Clutching the painting against her chest tightly, she lays back in bed and shuts her eyes...

She couldn't love anyone.

Whoever did, ended up dying.

Just like in the past...