All Flowers Die

Two

"Wanna' get together sometime?" I asked.

"Uh... Sure?" She said.

"Okay. Here's my number. Call me when you wanna get together."

I wrote my number on a flyer for a bible camp, gave it to her, and then I left.

It's hard to believe that someone can go from hating a person to being in love with them in only a few minutes.

It didn't take me long to love her, but it took me forever to let go once she was gone.

My phone buzzed. It wasn't her, though. Ugh. How long could it take for her to respond to me? It's not like she had friends to hang out with.

I waited and waited, playing games on my phone. After a few hours, I got bored and decided to try to call her.

Then I remembered I didn't have her number.

Eventually, she called me.

"Hi," she said. When I heard her soft, quiet voice, I almost forgot that she was dying. For a second, it seemed like everything was alright.

"Hi, Marigold."

"Wanna' get together?"

"Sure. When?"

"Soon. I'm kinda' dying, so we can't wait too long."

We both laughed. Even in the darkest of times, she stayed optimistic, and tried to hide the sorrow by being funny.

"Okay. How about this Friday?"

"Okay."

"I'll pick you up at six."

She gave me her address, we talked for a while, and then I went to bed.

Friday couldn't come soon enough.