Reece's Haven

52: Reece

*SURPRISE SURPRISE*

"You can say anything, and I will not leave you..."
– Nautica

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~ R E E C E ~

February 1998

Dorothy does not say anything about Bonnie. There's just something about her serious demeanour that gives me the impression that Bonnie is the topic that she does not like to talk about. Although I am curious about who she is, I do not ask Dorothy about her.

We walk along a winding path until we reach a stone wall. Behind the wall sits a church that is surrounded by trees. The grey building is long with a triangle-shaped front. The windows of the church are tinted with different colours. When we walk past the opened metal gates, numerous tomb stones of different shapes and sizes come into view.

And it is at this moment that I finally understand her sombre aura.

We continue to walk until we stand in front of a particular gravestone.

In loving memory of a dear friend

Bonita Rose Taylor

1979 – 1993

At the realisation of how young she was when she died, a dull ache in my chest makes its presence known.

Dorothy goes down on her knees.

"Bonnie..." she whispers, tracing the carved name with her fingertips.

Her lower lip trembles and tears well in her eyes. She then covers her face with her hands as she begins to sob. Immediately, I get down and wrap my arms around her, pulling her close to my chest. When wetness seeps through my shirt, my grip on her tightens.

Millions of questions regarding Bonnie run through my mind. Who was she to Dorothy? How did they meet? How did she die? Why has Dorothy never mentioned her? The only thing I know is that Bonnie must have been someone very dear to her for her to react this way.

If this is her state now, I cannot imagine what she must have gone through when Bonnie departed.

"I-I'm s-sorry," she says.

"You have nothing to apologise for," I say.

When she regains her composure, she pulls away from me and sits straighter.

"Bonnie was my best friend – my saviour from that night. She was the one who brought Sister Alexa," she begins. "Since then, she and I became inseparable. She was an orphan and I was abandoned and, naturally, we found a family in each other – we declared each other sisters and St. Anne's as our home."

I am a bit comforted by the fact that Dorothy found a friend during her time here, but that small feeling vanishes when I glance at the tombstone in front of us.

"She was obsessed with Princess Diana," she continues. "Imperial was the closest university to Kensington Palace, so she made me vow to study there with her."

That explains why she is so determined and keen to study at Imperial – she wants to honour the promise she made with Bonnie.

It does not escape my notice that her hands are shaking. I hold onto them in an attempt to appease her. She looks down at her clasped hands and takes a deep breath in.

"She got diagnosed with leukaemia when she was only twelve. AML. By age thirteen, she was dying. Nothing could be done and we both knew that."

"...So cancer killed her," I whisper.