There was a time when this road brought us nothing but joy and laughter. Those were the days of cut-off shorts,perpetually bruised knees and ice cream melting down our arms. Childhood is a funny thing; you desperately want to grow out of it and experience being an adult. But when life throws you in the clutches of adulthood you pray for a day when you regress and experience those care free days again. However, I wasn’t back here to reminisce about childhood. I never planned to return to the Yellow Brick Road, as we called it, especially after that fateful day 15 years ago. That was the day we learnt what death was and our innocence got taken away from us. Soon cut-off shorts turned into 3 piece suits and the charm of melting ice cream dried off. Walking down the road I see the small things that have become important landmarks of the days gone by. The playground where Rocky and I had our first kiss. Mr.Haversham’s garden where we threw fire crackers as a part of our countless dares and the small lemonade stand where you still get a glass of lemonade for a buck. The crack in the road caused me to lose my footing for a moment. Guess these heels were not made for brisk walking. I was late and I dont think they could delay the memorial service for me. After my long, memorable walk I was finally at the grave of my best friend: Nina. Nina; who died tragically 15 years ago when death was just a phenomenon that happened to other people. Rocky, Jessy and Dave stood surrounding the grave waiting to put on it the things that tied them to Nina and defined their relationship. I put my hand in my jacket pocket and felt the cool metal body of the pistol I had been carrying around for days. What else could I give Nina but the weapon with which I killed her? To Nina; friend and foe.
Yellow Brick Road