Have you ever heard the saying,' Your house represents who you are?' Well what if your house was falling apart. Sierra's house was.
The windows were broken. The front door was of its hinges. Her pool that was once a clear blue was now turning into a murky green color. The only good thing about her property was the flowers.
No matter how long it's been since she had last watered them they were still bright and beautiful, like she had once been.
Sierra had fallen ill the day of her 23rd birthday and her 25th was approaching quite quickly. Her husband had left her the month after she was hospitalized, claiming that he couldn't afford her hospital bills and it would be better used for somebody he knew wasn't going to die.
Even though he left her he still went to take care of her garden every day just so it would be beautiful by the time she had gotten back to her small townhouse.
One day he forgot to water the plants, it was a fairly hot summer day the weather reaching a scorching 103 degrees. He was busy taking care of his new wife and two children to even remember about the dying woman let alone the garden of roses and tulips.
Eventually the flowers wilted and died.
In the middle of a basketball game with his adopted son, Thomas, he received a phone call from the hospital.
Sierra Lee Anne had died that morning, on her 25th birthday.
Though most people would have thought of it only being her sickness that had caused her death, but her husband couldn't help but hold a sick twisting feeling in his stomach that it was all his fault.
