The boy in the garden

Chapter 1

The girl watched from the door, the window of the boys silhouette. She never saw his face or what he looked like or if they were even acquainted. Yet she watched his shadow everyday like a predator waiting for its prey. she didn't know she wasn't the one hunting it would seem , but the one being hunted. It started out as infatuation or maybe it was her curiosity. Was he a boy or a ghost.  

I always saw this shadow move like a silhouette of a person. It was always there, but the moment I look up, it's like it disappears.
I would always walk past this garden on my way to school and back when going home. It always seemed enchanted.
Beautiful, like the garden itself was a whole complete life on its own. The roses , the Lily's, lavender and violets. It always looked beautiful.
Until a week I was ill and I had to stay home. I couldn't look at my beautiful enchanted garden, or the pretty house that has the shadow.
One afternoon as I stayed back a bit to actually really watch the shadow in the house . A young boy with an age I assume was exactly like mine, appeared. He had milky olive skin tan and rich brown curly hair. It reached his eyes. Oh, his eyes. They were blue. So blue, you got lost in them. Like he could read your soul.
He waved and I smiled.Still very shocked at the angel I was looking at. I had so many questions I couldn't talk. I couldn't speak. It's like my jaw interlocked and my mouth couldn't open. He didn't speak to me either. He just smiled and entered back into the house. I, then ran off to my house.
My mother of course, smiled but then later screamed at my late arrival. I smiled at her and laughed.

" you know, mom 10 minutes isn't a big deal" . I say

" hmmmmm" she said as a response.

As time grew by I stayed to wave at the boy often. On my way home from school. I would stare when he went back to the house. Until this day.

It was the boys attention to her or the way he stared back at her that drew her to him. Maybe it was even just the color of his eyes. Whatever it is. It stopped her  brain from thinking. Why was the boy always in the garden. Was it her love for scenic beauty or the flair of dramatics she reads in her novels. Whatever it was, it was dangerous and I unfortunately was too late to help her

The cold, windy summer in June. The boy was outside with the same warm smile and dark blue eyes. Suddenly right after I waved. This being an evening of our regular meetings. Of waving and smiling but today he actually decided to speak.
" Stay". 

" pardon me". I said. Not in that rude   English manner but out of surprise.

" just for a little longer. Could you stay. Come into  the garden with me ". he said.

We walked together. While he was pulling my hand. I quietly followed behind as he put my hand on his shoulder. it was awkwardly uncomfortable. I felt like screaming or hiding behind the covers of bed but sadly I wasn't in my house nor my bed.
I was though in some strange boys backyard. Maybe inside I was smiling but outside I was so close to screaming. 

" here ". He said last

Pointing to a tiny position surrounded by flowers. I obliged by sitting down on the ground,
He, too did the same by laying on his back. He patted the ground. Indicating I should lay down next to him.

" you don't talk much do you ? " .

I shakes my head no.

" you can't even say no " 

" I can " I say. 

" But that's all you say ?" 

" Em. Em . Well I like your garden". 

". Thank you " he said .

We continued just laying there in silence. Looking at the stars. I wish I could talk to him. But I couldn't. I just realized i was late and I ran home. 

". Wait can' t you stay any longer ". he says 

" No, my mom will kill me " I respond. 

He nods his head and goes back to the house . I see his shadow and open the tiny gate in the garden heading to the outside space .
He didn't wave, he didn't smile. He just left. Making me sad. If you looked close enough he looked a little disappointed . But I had to go home.
At last, when I did go home . I could have sworn my mother was a tad close to beating me . She was going to kill me . But she just sat down and then it began, the talk . 

" you know dearie , I can't understand why you come so late . Is there a specific reason.

 Something your lacking . Something unhappy about at school?"   

      " no,no mom. I'm fine " I say .

     " Then why don't you always come home. Why are you always late. Why don't you arrive early, like other girls".

" other girls ?" I ask .

 Knowing now I had hit the nail on its head. Now I had done it . Mother was always worried whether my approach or conduct was appropriate. If what I was doing was right . If I was the only one that did it or other people did as well . 

 At first, I understood because dad first got lost , then was pressured missing . Then presumed dead. It was a sad tale. So I felt for her. I understood her pain. 

    But this was the most annoying talk. I never liked it . Why does she   compare me  with other girls. she worries too much.  

    " Yes , all other girls  have been coming at 4' o'clock sharp but only my daughter has to come late " she continued but I shut her out.

   The next day, I saw him again but for once in our whole acquainted  relationship  . I have never seen him do anything . He was just a shadow in the house that smiled and then a ghost from far away and to me, a beautiful boy who would smile and wave.
    Today though believe it or not . He was cutting some of the flowers and I was intrigued. I watched and stood very still at the little gate leading to the garden .

   " Come  home early, today ? " he said . I don't know how but that made his voice a whole lot deeper and for a moment I forgot we were the same age . 

" Em, why yes I need to go home early to my mother ". I say. 

    " Your mother ?"  he asks.