The next few days I tried to avoid walking past the wall as much as I could for fear of seeing Friedrich there but luckily the few times I had no choice but to walk past it, he wasn't there. I meant what I said, I never wanted to see him again but part of me wanted to because even though I knew what he'd done, I still had feelings for him but I swiftly brushed them away each time they tried to arise over my anger. Most of my anger had gone now though, it was just the hollow, numb feeling that had stayed to consume me.

I needed to forget about him.

I needed to be happy and cloud this misery.

I needed to see Lukas.

***********

Coming up to his house, I took a deep breath and thought about the words I had reworded and memorised over and over again to say to him; "I'm sorry for what I did, I didn't mean it, I don't know what I was thinking". I stopped and looked at the wooden door in front of me, the window to the side and another door to the other side going into someone else's house. The flower beds and the bunch of flowers in the window. The wooden beams across the two semi-detached houses. The number of the house hanging up next to the door in metal. Raising my hand to the knocker, I lifted and tapped it against the door three times and then one for luck.

Before I could reconsider the words in my head or run away, the door opened and a small, slightly rounded lady, around 5ft 2 stood in the door way, her long blond hair tied back into a bun and her deep blue eyes. Fair skin surrounded her eyes, a couple of wrinkles beneath them and around her mouth which curves into a beautiful smile as she sees me.

"Kirsten, how lovely to see you." Her smile projects into her words and she reaches out, bringing me into a hug, engulfing me in some sort of floral perfume I can't quite put my finger on but she has always worn it since the day I met her when I was a child and it never fails to stump me on what it is. If only I could see the bottle, I would die happy. "It feels like years I haven't seen you, but I'm glad you're here, Lukas hasn't been himself recently." She lowers her voice as she lets go and holds the door open for me.

I make my way down their corridor into the living room and sit carefully on the sofa sitting in the middle of the room, being careful not to crease the blanket lying on top of it. Playing with the hem of my shirt, I glance around the room, taking in the familiar features as if this was the last time I'd be in here. Who knows. The wooden floorboards make hollow sounds as I tap my feet against them gently, a cream rug sitting beside the fireplace opposite me with photo frames and flowers on the mantelpiece. An armchair sits in the corner with a small wooden stool in front of it acting as a foot rest, a newspaper resting on it, ready to be read. Every Sunday there's a paper there for Lukas' father to come down in the afternoon to read.

A familiar scent hits me and I glance towards the windowsill where a candle is lit, the flame fluttering as if trying to fly away. A framed drawing sits next to it, something of Lukas'. Standing up, I walk over to the picture, picking it up and smiling lightly as I recognise the crayon scrawled everywhere and the two stick people drawn in the middle with the word "freund" above them.

***********************

"No! I don't look like that!" A little girl screams, standing up as if about to walk away but instead pushing a little boy next to her away from a piece of paper lying on the grass, crayons dotted around it.

"You do! You look like a twig, dirty and brown!" The boy giggles as he shuffles over to the picture, picking up a brown crayon and colouring in one of the stick figures. "See! That's you!"

"No! I'm not dirty! I had a bath yesterday!" She reaches for the paper but the boy grabs it and runs to his mother who sits talking to the mother of the girl on the patio next to the house. He presents it to his mother with a grin, showing off all his teeth and gaps.

"Look what I draw!"

His mother takes it and smiles encouragingly, glancing between the picture and the boy. "It's lovely dear. Who is it?"

"It's me and Kirsten! That one's Kirsten!" He laughs loudly as he points to the stick figure coloured in brown.

"It's beautiful, would you like me to frame it?"

"Yes please!" He giggles as he runs back to Kirsten. She frowns to him before getting up and running over towards the trees at the bottom of the garden. "Kirsten!"

She glances around at the trees before running to the furthest one and climbing up onto a log next to it and reaching up to a branch. She begins climbing the tree, reaching up for the branches and then walking up the bark before pulling herself up over to sit on the branch. "Kirsten come down from there! Mummy said its dangerous!"

"I don't care!" She cries as she climbs higher and higher. She stops about half way and sits against the tree, wrapping her arms around her knees and pulling them close to her chest, cradling herself. She hears the two mothers calling for them and the young boy shouts to them.

"Lukas where is she?!" Kirsten's mother calls, panic lining the tone in her voice. He points up to the tree and they start shouting up to her, Lukas' mother running back to the house to get his father.

Kirsten glances down and her eyes begin to go blurry and a sickening feeling overwhelms her before she begins to cry at the height.

"Come down!" Lukas shouts up to her. Putting her foot on a branch close to the one she's on, she slides down onto it, clinging onto the higher branch. She glances down and her foot slips, her knees scraping along the bark, her hands sliding from the branch before waving in the air as she falls back and hits the ground, all the air in her lungs being forced out as a gasp. A scream echoes through the air and all goes silent. Lukas goes to her side, crying and shaking her, shouting at her but she can't hear anything, only sees his lips moving until everything goes black.