The Rose

Yes, it’s my birthday, awesome. I sarcastically think in my head.
“Sarah, honey, happy birthday!” my aunt Lily says. Finally I like my birthday, I just turned 13 on October 13, 2000 when this happened. That is the exact moment I received, the rose.
1 year later…
The rose is now my world; my friend, my life, my, well, everything, and what am I supposed to do now that she is gone? What happens if I lose the one thing I have left of her? Never mind that for now, I have a plane to catch, yay so much better, go to California but why, of yeah for her funeral, happy birthday to me, good day to turn 14.
“Sarah,” my stupid sister screams at me.
“What you want?”
“To leave sometime today, hurry your butt up.”
“Why? I don’t want to leave.”
“It’s for your stupid birthday.”
“Yeah, I wish.”
“Mom said Aunt Lily is gonna be there.”
“Yeah, please just don’t talk about her right now, I’m begging you!”
A couple days later…
Silently she lays, peaceful, as beautiful as ever. Why did she have to go? I just want to be with her, it isn’t her fault, she can’t chose not to have cancer. In the long run I know she left me in this world all alone for a reason, I have a purpose. What is my purpose I ask to the rose one day? Suddenly out of the blue the window flies open and something now lies in my hand in place of the rose. A picture. A stupid picture of some person. A young girl, whom does look a lot like me. Is this another treasure of her past I whisper to myself?
“One person’s item is another’s treasure.” I hear in the middle of the silence.
“Who was that?”
“You will find out in a week or two.”
“What?”
“Just wait, and remember, ones item is another’s treasure.”
In this silent room I await. What will happen next? I pack up everything I have, I don’t like it here anymore, I am going home. Beautiful, peaceful, could the voice be Aunt Lily’s? I know she once said,
“I have many item’s and so do you, chances are if we trade our item’s with each other they will be much more valuable in our hearts, just wait.”
Maybe she, Aunt Lily is trying to tell me something. I will find out soon though, in a week or two, a wise woman once said. What does this mean? My mission is coming, I question what I am feeling inside though strength, courage, ha none of the above. I feel week, poor, and dying.
1 ½ weeks later…
The hospital; ugly, lonely and grey. This is what Aunt Lily had to go through. Goodness, I feel even worse for her now than ever.
Those are the last words we ever heard from Sarah, before she joined her Aunt and the rest, well, maybe you will find out some day.