The Bucket List [#Wattys2018]

Chapter Thirty Two: Always Stay Humble And Kind

"We can't help Everyone, but Everyone can help someone." -Ronald Reagan
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As much as I didn't want to go out, I had to. I was running low on food.

So going out meant.... socializing with people.

Gross.

Whatever.

I brush out my long brown hair and wonder if I should cut it.

Maybe I should dye it too?

I run my fingers through the tangled mess. I'll cut it today. And maybe dye it a ruby red color.

I tie my hair into a high ponytail, and slip on running clothes. I make sure to grab my keys and purse before heading out.

I lock the door multiple times and sprint off, running away from the chance of seeing Chris again.

                            •••••••
Honestly, why am I even doing this?

I pick up an apple to find a large bruise engolphving almost the entire thing. I toss it back in the pile.

Me too. Me too.

My heart is bruised, no scratch that, broken, absolutely broken.

Amy's dead.

And I can't change that.

And it hurts.

I shake my mind clear, trying to forget about everything while I'm in public, but no matter what, I still can't escape from the fact that my best friend is dead and that I was wiped clean from all dignity and self worth that I have left for myself.

I look up from the aisle I'm standing in to see a woman wearing a long skirt, her shirt halfway tucked in. Three little kids are tugging on her skirt, yelling and screaming all the whilst pointing at random objects. Her eyes look tired, considering the bags under them.

Her cart is stacked high with lunchables and kid cuisines, bags of chips, and containers of cookies.

That's going to be a lot of money.

Pay for a strangers groceries.

It was on my bucket list, and I really want to help her out.

I walk up to the woman, leaving my cart behind me.

"Excuse me miss!" She turns her head and smiles at me.

"I'd like to pay for your groceries for you today."

Her eyebrows raise up and her mouth widens.

She has beautiful short red hair, it's starting to grey, probably from the kids. And her eyes are a beautiful golden brown.

"That's awfully kind of you, but I couldn't let you do that."

She struggles to hold one of the kids against her hips.

"I appreciate you protesting, but please, I'd love to."

The woman gives me a confused look, as if asking why on earth I want to, but she doesn't protest anymore.

She looks so relieved.

"You have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you so much."

I smile back at her.

"No problem."

                              •••••••
I felt so happy to see that woman smile.

It felt great to help her.

Since I was already out and about, I decided to drive to the nearest hair salon.

My hair is already cut and dyed red.

I stare back at the new me in the mirror.

New hair, new start.

It's been a tough week, and it's been hard to get through. But I can make it. I'm strong, and I'll continue to be strong for Amy, that's what she would have wanted, and that's what I would have wanted for her if I was the one who had died. And I'll make her proud.