Day 2

Day 2

Write a story that includes: a tombstone, a first kiss, and a butterfly collection.

She was gone, never coming back. I had lost her. I looked down at the ornate stone in front of me with sadness. Her parents had chosen it and I hated them for it. It wasn’t what she would have wanted. It was too elaborate. If she had been here, she would have laughed at the excessive scripting with me. She had always hated the way her parents overcomplicated things, trying to show off their wealth and power.

I hadn’t cried at the funeral when everyone else had. I had sat near the door, head bowed, and thought of my best friend, my wonderful best friend. We had met in college, in the biology labs where we partners. Our first study was on butterflies, their patterns and characteristics, an idea I remember finding unbelievably dull, never having liked the insects. It had been her enthusiasm that had convinced me otherwise.

She would look at each creature intently, completely absorbed by every detail.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” she had mumbled without taking her eyes from the butterfly in front of her.

Slowly, with her encouragement, I had started to see the magnificence in each spot on the wings, to love the vibrancy of the colours, search out their differences in awe.

She had this way at looking at the world that made me smile. Everything, every tiny detail, was delightful, something to be celebrated. It was contagious. Suddenly, I began to realise that maybe, just maybe, this world wasn’t as bad a place as I had thought. Maybe there was a chance my life would begin to turn around.

It was a foolish hope. I knew that now.

There was no one to watch the tears fall down my cheek, to brush them away. That had always been her job. I was alone now. The graveyard had long since emptied. I was the only one left. I don’t know why it hurt me so much; people always left.

Apart from her. She had stayed with me, through it all. For the thousandth times, I cursed the monster who had taken her from me. How could he? Why did he take her? She didn’t deserve it. She should’ve grown old with a family that loved her. She should have grown old with me.

I had told her I loved her, made her promises I intended to keep. We would be together. I would keep her safe. Oh! I had tried to keep her safe but it wasn't enough. It was never enough.

She had pressed her lips to mine, answering all my questions, accepting all my assurances about the future with that one touch. In that one touch, I had given her my heart, stripping away the layers of distrust and security I had built.

It was our first kiss.

And our last.