To save a life

# o n e

#1) Dye my hair purple

I hiss as the cold water makes contact with the back of my head. The light purple water cascades around the white basin of my toilet. Combing my fingers through my hair making sure the chemicals get rinsed off, I silently curse the ghost of my best friend. 'Seriously Bree? Dye your hair? Why couldn't you pick something easier and fun like solving crosswords on newspapers?'

After making sure that my hair is properly washed, or as proper as I could get it at least, my hands find the towel by my side and I wrap my hair in it. I grimace and wipe my neck with the ends of the towel. Unhygienic, I know. But I'm too lazy to take a shower and paint my amazing tiles purple. The damage in the basin will have to suffice for now.

I step out of my bathroom and put on my pajamas with ease. My eyes skim over the desk and I slowly walk over to it. Lifting up a paper and a pencil, I carefully cross out the first thing on my best friends bucket list. 'Alright. One down, eleven to go. This shouldn't be too hard.' I plop down on my bed and read the list again.

My eyes close momentarily as I imagine Aubree sitting in her room, cross legged with her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth, scribbling down things she deemed as fun. She probably had her hair in a bun and she probably had few strays of hair that framed her face. Aubree's hair could never be tamed but I loved it that way.

Stupid girl.

A knock on my door snaps me back in to reality and I quickly stuff her bucket list under my pillow. My mother pokes her head first, smiles and then completely emerges from behind the door. 'Just checking on my daughter,' she mutters as she sits down on the foot of my bed. A frown slowly makes it's way on her forehead. 'Why's your towel purple?'

I bite my lip in consideration. Should I tell her about Bree's list? She would definitely understand. My mother always said that Bree was like a daughter to her and she never treated her otherwise. 'Well?' She urges.

I sigh and lift my pillow and try to flatten the few wrinkles on the paper. Intrigued, my mother scooted closer to me and her eyes widened the moment she realised the handwriting. She always criticised mine and fancied Aubree's. 'Your handwriting looks like someone forced a right handed kindergarten to write on their left,' she used to say.

'Is this... hers?' She placed a hand over her mouth and took the paper in her own hands without my confirmation of her question. A smile fitted it's way unto my mom's lips. It was a sad, reluctant smile but it was a smile nonetheless.

'Why didn't you tell me before?' I knew that her question wasn't only to me but also to Aubree. I myself have repeated that question numerous times in my head but it's no use seeing as I'll never get an answer. Not anymore.

My mother nodded her head and folded the paper neatly. She then placed it on my palms with an understanding look in her eyes. 'I can help you with the "learn another language" one,'

I raised a skeptical eyebrow, 'You know how to speak another language other than English? Mom, you sly, sly minx you.' She chuckled and shook her head. 'A friend of mine takes private spanish lessons. If you want I can have a word with her,'

I hugged my mother with all that I had at that moment, which in all honesty wasn't really much. 'She'd like that,'

My mother got up and straightened her shirt, 'I know she would. Goodnight sweetheart.'

'Night, mom.' The door shuts behind her while I settle beneath my comforter. I stare at the faded glow in the dark stickers.
'Night, Bree.'