My legs were hurting badly since I wasn't used to something like this.

I would have taken a taxi but I was stranded. I didn't come with my credit card today and I had squandered all my money.

Ughh, Tilda...Just what is your problem?

The scorching heat from the sun was burning my skin and I could swear that if I was to take even a step further, I would be burnt to crisps.

Luckily for me, there was a small park nearby. It was just a neat row of beautiful trees that served as shades over iron benches.

"Ha," I heaved a sigh of relief as I slumped on the bench.

I would rest here for at least twenty minutes before I would continue my journey.

For the first time since I had reached the bench, I glanced to see who sat next to me.

My eyes widened in disbelief and my lips curled in such a way that I believe the person next to me found amusing.

"You...You stalker," I exclaimed with my index finger threatening to poke his left eye as I pointed at him.

He scoffed.

"Look who's calling someone a stalker."

Those blue eyes were the first thing I always noticed whenever I saw the stranger.

"What do you want from me?" I quickly asked, clenching my fists and trust me, I was ready to fight this guy.

"What could I possibly want from you?" He scanned me from head to toe with an uninterested gaze.

First of all, ouch!

"Why are you everywhere? Gosh! I don't even know who you are," I flung my hands into the air. It was obvious that I was tired of seeing this sarcastic dude.

I wanted to continue my walk home upon seeing him but my legs were pleading with me to have mercy on them.

Poor babies...

I couldn't hurt them because of some stranger.

"Aren't you going home?" He suddenly asked after a minute of silence between the two of us.

"Is that the lastest way of kidnapping people?" I poked my head forward and he scoffed once again.

"Are you even worth kidnapping?" He asked.

No...

This guy was looking down on me too much.

"Mr. Stranger, that's what I would say  even if I were a kidnapper," I pouted my lips to show how much his question had hurt me.

"I have a name, you know," His lazy eyes went up and down my body once again.

The level of embarrassment that flushed over me was just too much for me to handle.

Why did handsome guys have to play things too cool?

I didn't even respond yet he went ahead to tell me his name.

"Miles. I'm Miles," He said.

Miles kwa? What kind of oyinbo name is that?

However, he did look like an half caste with his clear mocha brown skin.

"Are you from here? You don't really look like you are," I was prompt to ask.

"I'm mixed but I grew up here," He replied.

He grew up here?

"You don't sound like it," I squinted my eyes.

"Haba! Nor look me like that o! I be confirm street boy. All this one na packaging," He released a small chuckle.

My laughter overshadowed his as I was laughing like a hyena that had choked on a chunk of meat.

When I saw him lift his eyebrows with an alarmed look, I knew I had to cease my laughter.

"I'm sorry," I quickly apologized. "I should probably get going now."

"Let me just follow you since my house isn't so far away from yours. School has been so hectic," He sighed.

"Stalkers go to school?" I asked with wide eyes. "What a discovery."

His usual uninterested gaze landed on my face and I knew it wasn't funny.

Walking beside this boy was already intimidating as it seemed but his every now and then gaze at me, was far more intimidating.

Silence soon came to reside with us.

I mean, I didn't know him so there wasn't really anything we could talk about.

The awkward silence was slowly killing me when he finally brought up a question that called for the surprised look on my face.

"Why did you want to kill yourself the other day?" He sounded concerned.

Maybe I was just overthinking it.

"I thought you didn't care," My voice came calmly.

"I'm sorry," He apologized but the look on his face was in great contrast with his tone. A lot of work needed to be done as regards his facial expressions.

This guy was just unreadable.

Sharing something personal with a stranger wasn't something I would normally do.

"I'm sorry but that's something I can't tell you," I replied.

With a slight nod of his, I was glad he understood.

"Whatever it may have been, killing yourself isn't the best option," He said and just like he had always done whenever he was giving me such speeches, he didn't look in my direction.

I kept quiet and pondered on his words for the rest of our walk.

If I were to kill myself, that wouldn't stop Sharon, her father, Richard and my mother from being happy.

Who was I kidding by trying to kill myself all this while?

As soon as I reached the junction of my street, I stopped walking and turned to face the boy who had escorted me here for the fact that it was already 6:50 pm.

"Thank you," I whispered with a smile.

He simply nodded and without a reply, went off on his own.

"What a rude human being," I hmphed and my smile faded.

With that, I made my way home.

For the first time, the thought of killing myself didn't cross my mind.

Maybe Miles was right after all.

*.*.*.

~ TRANSLATIONS ~

Thanks for reading!

Miles kwa? - More like asking, "What Miles?"

Oyinbo - Slang used to describe a white person.

"Haba! Nor look me like that o! I be confirm street boy. All this one na packaging." -   Don't think of me that way. I am a boy who grew up on the streets. This is all a facade.

Haba - stands as an exclamation of astonishment or disappointment. The slang is coined from the Hausa language.