Remember

Story 1: A Love of Irises

Iris_

"Oh hi! Don't worry about me, I'm fine! Wait what happened?!" Nol asked, pointing at the cut on my cheek.

"Nothing," I replied, looking down. My albino hair drooped in front of my dark blue eyes, hiding the sight of my tears but not covering the sound of my cries.

After a moment of silence, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me underneath the willow tree.

"Wait here."

He came back quickly with a first aid kit, and patched up the cut on my face, with a bright blue bandaid.

And from that day on we did everything together, from picnics to playing hide-n-seek to running away from the scary old lady downtown.

Then I turned 10, and once again, he took my wrist and led me to the night sky, except the stars were fireflies, and the moon was as bright as the shining lake that night. We laughed as the crickets fluttered and the frogs croaked all so noisily.

Soon the days went by faster than they ever had before. And all of a sudden I was 13. On my way back home, a bunch of girls trampled on me. They were jealous that I was with Nol all the time, but he didn't mind them following him until he saw the same cut appear on the same left cheek.

He lost his cool, calling them pick me girls, girls who knew nothing but to drag and blame others for their lack of beauty, especially a beauty that can easily disappear the moment a person opens their mouth. He may have gone a little far with his retorts but his shouted words were valid and true and those girls never bothered me again. In fact, the disposal of them created an opportunity for other people in class to get along with me, and I am still so thankful that he helped me find myself.

16 came by fast, and on my birthday, I heard the doorbell ring at 7 p.m. I had wondered why Nol didn't come earlier that day, and I was a little afraid he had forgotten about me completely. But I was very wrong. In front of my door, was Nol, his brown hair messy even though there was gel, his green eyes looking away from my eyes as his face turned scarlet. He was holding a bouquet of irises, and he quickly shoved a letter in my face, looking down at his feet. This birthday was the best birthday of my life because instead of getting a present box, I got a present of the person who I had loved so dearly, and he had put so much effort in the small gifts of this present. The irises, the letter, him. It was so perfect I forgot how to breathe.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" He asked reluctantly after I finished reading the letter, teardrops staining the letter.

Unable to speak, I nodded, tears filling my hands as he hugged me while my face rested in my palms. It was an unusual cry. There was nothing sad about that evening, yet why was I crying?

It took me a while until I understood why. After a few more times of it happening, I realized that there was such a thing as happy tears.

When we were 17, on Valentine's Day, he once again brought me irises as well as my favorite cake.

"Nol, why do you always buy irises for my birthday and Valentine's Day?"

"Because Iris, irises are the most beautiful flowers to me, and many beautiful flowers are often overlooked by the rose. They also remind me of you so no other flower could be more beautiful than the iris." He replied proudly, making eye contact with me.

I cringed slightly at the reason but nevertheless it was sweet so I started laughing and so did he. I had looked forward to the many iris flowers to come. But I realized later, that was the last time I was going to get iris flowers from him.

The day before graduation, Nol was standing on a tall bridge above the bay. He stares down at the water, contemplating. His body bends forward his grip slowly loosening from the barrier. Flashes of the Iris filled his head, and he pulled himself back, shaking his head.