Chapter 1: Alex and Xenia
Part 1
Xenia
I felt as if I was being watched. It wasn't the first time I'd gotten the feeling. Every time I came to visit my brother's earthly resting place I felt that way. When I looked over my shoulder I knew I wouldn't see anyone but I always looked hoping to catch a glimpse of my graveyard stalker.
My brother was murdered thirteen years ago. He was sixteen years old. I was ten years old when a Police Officer showed up on my parent's doorstep and brought the news that my brother had been killed. I'd skipped three grades and was considered mature for my age at that point in time but my mother still sent me to the kitchen to finish cooking dinner. I went to the kitchen but I wanted to know why the Police was in our house. Somehow I knew it had to do with Jacob because he was late getting home again. He was late a number of times before because he'd lost track of time but I knew that the Police was there because something had happened to him. My mother screamed and blacked out when she heard the news and my father cried. It was the first time I'd seen my father cry. I cried too that night because Jacob was more than a brother to me he was my best friend. I shared everything with him and he gave me advice when I didn't want to go to our parents. He taught me to ride my bike, jump rope, and roller-blade. Jacob was there for me when my parents weren't. I'd lost my brother and my best friend, my only friend. Something broke in me that night and as I cried there was no one to comfort me. Jacob wasn't there to comfort me, he wasn't there to shield and protect me. My father and my mother had each other and they had me but it wasn't the same, it wasn't enough. I think they forgot that they had a daughter until months after the funeral and though I was hurt I knew I couldn't replace my brother.
Jacob had been beaten to death by a group of white boys on his way home from school. He'd been accused of trying to get with one of the boys' girlfriend. The boys hadn't intended to kill him or so they said. They had just wanted to teach him a lesson. Later the girlfriend confessed to a friend that she'd been the one trying to get Jacob's attention and because he'd refused to give her any she'd decided to teach him a lesson. Jacob's best friend was with him at the time of the incident and he'd walked away with his life, without a scratch as a matter of fact. Some people said that he'd stood there and watched Jacob get beat up. Even some of the boys who'd done the deed said he'd joined in but Alexander O'Conner denied it all. He claimed he'd been held back from helping his friend. Jacob and Alex were in separable; if you saw only one of them the other wasn't too far behind. It was hard to believe that Alex would allow Jacob to be jumped much less to join in but after the death of my brother Alex kept his distance. And I began to believe what I'd heard. If he was such a good friend then maybe my brother would be alive today. Alexander O'Conner didn't show up to my brother's funeral and he never came to visit after the night we heard about Jacob's death. I saw him a couple of times around town but he acted as if he didn't know me and ignored me. He was the one that dubbed me the Black Tinkerbelle and he had treated me like a little sister but I'd never viewed him as my brother. I'd had a major crush on him and Jacob constantly teased me about it but not anymore. Those feeling died not too long after my brother died. I used to hate him, now I just don't bother wasting that energy.
I moved to New York to study at NYU on a full scholarship and graduated with Honors then went on to earn a Masters in English and another in Social Work. At twenty-three I've decided to take a break from College and I now work as an English teacher at the local Jefferson High School. As much as I never wanted to come back to Jefferson I feel as if I have unfinished business here. Something keeps pulling me back to this little town and I know that it has to do with my dead brother. Most of the boys that had been involved in Jacob's killing had been sent to Juvenile Detention Centers, as they were still minors. No one served any real time for his death because they all pleaded that it was an accident, they hadn't meant to kill him or so they claimed. I see a couple of them around town but none of them have ever approached me or apologized to me or my family and I'm glad that they don't waste their time doing so because I wouldn't accept it and it wouldn't bring my brother back.
I wonder who has cleaned up my brother's gravesite. My parents moved out of Jefferson after I started college and now live in Atlanta s I know it wasn't them. They visit my brother's grave sit on his birthday and during the holidays but they tend to stay out of Jefferson and I don't blame them. I'd been wondering who was keeping the site clean for quite some time because every time I came to visit there were no weeds for me to pull and fresh carnations were always present. Carnations were my brother's favorite flowers. I wondered who my brother knew trusted enough to share his love of carnations with. I wonder if it's my Graveyard Stalker and I smile to myself. Why had I never connected the stalker to the carnations before? Maybe one day my stalker will get the courage to approach me. We will share stories about my brother and then I will not be so alone. I hear a sound behind me and I turn to see whom else in the graveyard.
A chill passes through my body when I recognize the person coming towards me. I wanted to run but my legs wouldn't budge. As the man drew closer my heart beat faster. Alexander O'Connor has become even more handsome over the years. He had to be about six and a half feet tall with a swimmer's build. His midnight hair brushed his shoulders and the black T- Shirt and jeans he wore left nothing to the imagination. I hadn't seen him since I moved back to Jefferson and had thought that he'd moved out of the town. I didn't want to ask about him and there was no one for me to ask because I did not consider anyone in Jefferson my friend.
He came to a stop about a foot away from me and I had to crane my neck to look up at him. He was at least a foot and a half taller than me. We stared at each other for a few minutes then I turned back to my brother's headstone. I pressed two fingers to my lips, a brief kiss and touched them to the tombstone. I bid my brother farewell and turned to leave the cemetery. I would not show Alexander O'Connor that he affected me. I will ignore him like he ignored me. I wanted to cuss him out. I wanted to hit him, to yell at him, to tell him that he did not belong on sacred ground. But instead I chose to walk away. He was not worth it. No matter how much my heart raced or how much I wanted to forgive him.
"Don't go." I stopped when I heard those words. There was pain in that voice and the hairs on my skin stood to attention. Then I started to walk again. I wanted to tell him that I didn't talk to strangers or murderers but I didn't say anything. I just continued to walk away. "Please don't go Xenia."
I looked down at the pale hand that now grasped my upper arm and I looked up at the man the hand belonged to. Even though there was a flow of electricity in the touch and a strange flutter in my stomach I ignored it or at least I tried to. There was no way to stifle the gasp of surprise that had escaped. I didn't know way I was feeling this way and I didn't want to know why. I just wanted him to let go of me. I squinted my eyes and clenched my teeth.
"Get your hand off me." I said in a tight voice.
"Xenia I need-"
"To let go of me." I said cutting him off. Did he just think He could walk back into my life and everything would be fine? Hell no. He lost that opportunity thirteen years ago. I began to pull away from him but he refused to let go of my arm.
"I need to talk to you Xenia and I need to do it now." Alex said firmly.
"Well I don't want to talk to you and if you don't let go of me right now I will call the cops." I said reaching into my pants pocket for my cell phone.
