The Flower Thief

1.

"Oi!" I turn sharply, frozen to the spot. A girl about my age stands in the doorway to the house. "What are you doing?"

I wince. There's no way around this. I was sure the house was empty! No car in the driveway, no lights on from the windows; I was sure it was safe to go in.

"Are you stealing the roses from my garden?" The girl calls irritatedly, crossing her arms.

"No?" I try.

"Oh, come off it," she rolls her eyes, and begins to stride over to me. "Look at this, you've almost got a whole bunch!"

"Sorry," is all I can say in response.

"Alright, show me her."

"Beg your pardon?" I frown.

"Show me this girl that you're going to give these flowers to. And I shall judge whether she is pretty enough to warrant flower theft," she states, chuckling slightly.

"Uh, okay," I answer hesitantly, because although it really isn't that simple, I really don't want her to get me into trouble for being on her property, and with her roses in my hand.

I begin to climb the fence again the way I had come in, and swinging my legs over, I drop onto the pavement on the other side.

"Are you kidding me?" I hear her say from the other side of the fence.

"It's your house, just walk through," I suggest.

"No," she complains. "I don't want to be unable to do anything that you can." I chuckle slightly.

"Alright. If you've got this."

I stand and wait for a few moments before I see one of her legs dangling over the top of the fence. Soon, the other leg joins it and she perches precariously atop the fence.

"Jump down," I instruct.

"It's a pretty long way."

"No it isn't. Besides, I'll catch you if you manage to mess up that badly."

"Gee, thanks, I'm flattered," she answers sarcastically. She looks back down at the pavement, before taking a deep breath and jumping down. She lands pretty gracefully.

We begin to walk, and I do so in silence, trying to work out the best way to tell her.

"So, tell me about this girl who's so worthy of my roses," she says.

"Uh, well, she's very special, and she's definitely worth anybody's roses," I answer. Cryptic, I know, and not helping me. What can I say to tell her?

"Well, I'll be the judge of that," she says brightly. My look remains sullen.

We continue walking. We're almost there, and I stop.

"We there yet? Is it this house?" She asks.

"Uh, no. We're almost there. Listen, I-" I trail off. I don't know how to say it. I'm not sure I can.

"Nothing. Let's just get there," I mumble. She looks at me funny for a moment, but I just keep walking. She soon begins to follow again.

We arrive by the gate and so I stop again.

"Why are we stopping this time?" She questions.

"We're here. I didn't know how to say it really," I mumble.

"I'm confused," she says, before she spots the sign on the gate.

CARPENTERS LANE CEMETERY

She reads it aloud, and I watch realisation pass over her face. Leaving her there, I continue inside.

I stop by her grave. I take in a shaky breath, and lean down to place the flowers on her grave. I read the gravestone again, the one I know by heart.

Here Lies:
Naomi Hale
1998 - 2015
A wonderful daughter, sister,
niece, friend and girlfriend,
taken from us too soon.
May you Rest in Peace.

The girl steps up behind me and I hear her sharp intake of breath as she reads the grave I'm staring at.

"I don't know how to prove to you, but I do think my girlfriend is pretty enough to, uh, warrant flower theft," I comment, trying to sound light-hearted, else I'll break down sobbing in front of this stranger. I turn to her, and she looks like she's about to cry herself. "Sorry to have to, uh, bring you here, I guess."

She frowns. "No, no, don't apologise. I-I didn't realise it was...uh...I only wanted to...I didn't know. I'm sorry."

"How could you know?" I answer bitterly. "I never said." I couldn't bring myself to.

"I'll leave you be," she says quickly and begins to walk away. "Again, sorry for, uh, all this." She rushes away.

Awkward. Very, very, awkward.

I take a deep breath, and then turn my attention back to the grave, to do what I came here to do. I whisper to the grave what I say every time I visit.

"Hey Naomi, missing you a lot down here. Hope you're having a good time wherever you are, and I hope that's better than here."

I take a deep breath.

"It shouldn't have happened like it did. I could have got you out of the way. I should have gotten you out of the way. It was my fault. The car was coming and I'm sure there was enough time, and I'm sorry. I'm also sorry because I know if you were standing here hearing this in person you'd be annoyed at me for saying so and you'd tell me to shut up, and I'm sorry I say this every time but it needs to be said. It should not have been you, and for that I am more sorry than I can say."

I round off my speech by saying, "See you later Naomi. I love you."

I rest a hand on the gravestone for a moment, before turning around to go home. I nearly jump out of my skin.

The girl is standing there watching me behind the tree.

Her eyes widen as my gaze locks onto her, and she opens her mouth, thinks better of it, then takes off, just like that.