Kiwi and I came up with an idea. She would send me ambiguous prompts, and I'd try writing something based upon it. 3-5 paragraphs or more if I really like the prompt... So... yeah. Hopefully I'll get better at writing this way.
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"Figures..." She mumbled, staring at the single flower left in her hands. The edges of it's petals were singed, almost giving the flower a thin, black outline. The flower itself had been part of a grand bouquet, one that the girl hovering over the lonely flower had taken the pleasure in burning via an entire box of matches. She took each match out one by one, being sure to light each and every flower that lined the edges of the bouquet. Halfway through watching the embers, she fell to her knees. Her emotions had finally taken over. Tears had been flowing down her face, although part of that could've been from the smouldering ashes now hitting her knees and burning her through her long jeans. She began to shake as the bouquet grew smaller and smaller. She almost wanted to put the fire out, but no. She had to see this through. She needed to let go, and this was the final step. However... Her heart sank as the fire seemingly put itself out, leaving the aforementioned flower in her hand. It was the only of it's kind in the bouquet, a white daisy. She reached over in order to grab one last match, but recoiled her hand when she felt absolutely nothing. Her worse fears had come true. Next to her sat the complete contents of the box, all burnt up and thrown together into an ashy pile. She turned back to the flower, the mocking flower. "GOD DAMNIT! JUST BURN ALEADY! I DON'T WANT YOU HERE! PLEASE!" Her shouts were progressively turning into loud sobs. "Love? Are you alright in there?" A man's voice asked from the other side of the door. "I-I'm fine, just give me a second!" She managed to croak out. Her voice had already become sore from shouting. The man on the other side of the door opened it without hesitation, something was clearly wrong. She looked up from the flower, staring into the man's eyes, her own eyes a tint of red from all the crying. She managed to relax a little at least upon seeing this man. He was her boyfriend after all. The man's eyes were immediately drawn to the flower and the pile of ashes that had gathered on his girlfriend's knees and on the floor. "Finally got around to burning it huh?" The man had asked. "It won't die," She sniffled, her grip loosening on the daisy. The man walked over to her and carefully took the flower from her hands. "It doesn't have to," He smiled down at her. He helped his girlfriend up and walked her over to the kitchen. He scooped some dirt from a big potted plant and put it into a clear cup. He then dug a little hole using his finger, and placed the stem of the daisy in it, covering it up with some dirt. Finally, he went to the sink and made the soil damp. "What are you doing?" "Creating a goal for you, burning some metaphorical flowers won't do you any good, letting go is about your inner self, how you see the world," He sighed. He placed the flower next to the sink, that way it was easier to water. "The petals are singed, it won't grow," She mumbled. "Everything can be rebuilt, you taught me that," He chuckled. "As you learn to let go, you should look at this flower every once and awhile. It will grow and become harder to ignore. You will keep looking each day until you feel nothing by looking at it," He explained. This... Actually seemed ideal. There was a silence between the two for a moment. The girl broke this silence the moment she jumped up, draping her arms around the back of her boyfriend's neck, relaxing her head on his chest. The tears returned. "Thank you..." She muttered. "I'll help you until the end my dear."
