My Short Stories/Story Prompts ✔️

Painted Flowers

This was another assignment for my writing camp. Enjoy.
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I hold the snotty tissues against my nose, trying to breathe. I can't believe it.

My friend, Violetta was in the hospital from a car accident. She was doing well and then the heart monitor stopped giving the little waves it does whenever the paitent takes a breath. But then it went flatter than a prairie.

I had lost my best friend.

I try to stop my cries since I have to make a speech soon. I smooth out my black skirt and pull my jacket around my tighter. I make sure I have the slip of paper in my pocket. I have written it, but what I have written just doesn't feel right.

I stick one of my last tissues into the trash can and make my way down the church asile to where my family is sitting. I see them consoling to Violetta's parents. I'd join them but I'm afraid that if I dare speak a word I'll collapse into a puddle of tears.

Soon the ceremony begins. Water fills my eyes but I force them down. I can cry when I'm back in my room alone.

I'm holding on by a thread by the time the closest friends are supposed to speak. I'm in line second, so I have to compose myself. I take deep breaths, clutching the note in my pocket as if my life depends on it.

The first person goes up to speak. From this view I can name the face of every person here. A few look numb, as if they've cried all the tears they have left in thier life. Some are solemn. Some have built dams behind thier eyes, water about to overflow the roof of it. Some have overdflowed and collapsed long ago, a pile of tissues at thier feet.

The first speech is halfway done. I trace the pen indents in the paper. This note won't do.

The first person makes thier way back beside me. It is now my turn. I take the paper out one last time, just to be sure. It returns to my pocket. I put my elbows up on the podeum. My speech begins.

"I first met Vi in first grade. The only desks that weren't taken were right beside each other. That is when I met my best friend."

I swallow. "We become close friends after that. I remember we were at my house one day and we decided we wanted to paint. We got out little easels and put down the old little paint-dripped table between us. Even at that age she had been an artist."

Another swallow. "We were both painting flowers. I had a pink Mini Mouse shirt on, and she had a shirt that her mom got from London. She started telling me about the color aqua, and how she was trying to get the perfect shade. I don't remember who threw it first, but one of us threw paint at each other. For the next ten minutes or so, we were throwing all of the paints at each other. It was on our shirts, in our hair, and splashes on our legs too. It was one of our fondest memories. My mom took a picture of us and our hands were multicolored. Just two six-year-old-teeth-losing blonde girls drenched in paint."

I smile for the first time that day. "It was one of my favorite playdates I ever had with her. I know for a fact that the memory of the paint fight will be everlasting within me, just like all our memories of Violetta."

I breathe and glance up. Everyone has a smile on thier face. I feel my eyes well up again, but not from Vi's death. From how I made these people feel.

I return back to my place in line. The boy next to me starts speaking, but I don't pay attention to a word. My eyes travel to the girl in the coffin, dressed.in white. She looks like an angel. I stare at her, trying to memorize her every detail until we are dismissed.

The pastor gives a few words of thanks and Violetta rolls down the asile. I whisper a single word as she passes by. "Infinity." It means I will love my best friend to the ends of the Earth.

The sky is mocking us. Birds are chirping, it is sunny. It should be storming and dark and dank. Not happy like this.

We gather outside where she will be buried. I see her closed eyes one last time. Maybe if I pretend I can trick myself that she's sleeping.

One by one we drop things into her coffin. Some have flowers. Others have tokens. Some letters.

I drop in a bundle of violets and a paintbrush.