Flowers of all kinds fill this beautifully colored garden. From roses to poppies and orchids too. The vast variety of species gave life to the greenery in which they bed on. They would have smelled wonderful, they definitely would! However, my senses were not sharp. I did not want to remember.

I picked up a flower. It wasn’t a special flower in particular, but a random flower that had no meaning to me. I did not even remember how it looked like, nor did I remember its scent. But I remembered how it felt on my hand.

Its soft petals rested on my fingers. The petals were very thin, silky, and almost powder like. Its stem was a bit rougher, but I did not reject it my care. I held this uninteresting flower on my gentle hand, but why did I feel regretful?

It’s weird. A flower shouldn’t make one feel such sorrow, right? But every second I held that flower on my hand, I felt it become much more fragile than the second before. I became petrified at the moment. Why did I feel such remorse over a single flower?

Then I heard a soft whisper echo in my mind;

“…hardest…”

Why?

“…trying…”

Why?

“…to live.”

At that moment, I realized I took away the flower's life.

That was very well written. Nice job. I don't want to pick flowers anymore lol.

tgags123 :

LOL! I'm so sorry. xD (But I'm laughing so hard in the inside, teehee.)

Mistress : Wow, this is very well written. I must say, you have talent and I would like to see more of your work.

shinobi75 :

Thank you very much.

Although you were already told this, that was very well written. I enjoyed it. Nice job.

poor flower )':   i well never pick up a flower again.... its a sad story . but in the same time good job ...this story is good ...making story's seem hard ..again good job keep up the good work

zanderlex :

A user of this :

Oh, you guys! Your compliments are embarrassing me. xD

I'm so flattered, thank you.