"I like reeeeeed...

"But I like blue better."

I pushed them into the toy box without thinking. I jumped in after them without thinking. I took Ib's rose without thinking. I ask for Garry's, but I have an idea.

I would take Garry's rose, run upstairs to my room, pretend to accidentally get wrapped up in my game, and kill him. Then, I would run to jump into Fabricated World. Ib would have to follow. My plan was foolproof. I would start it as soon as Garry gave me the rose.

That is, if he gave me the rose.

I could tell from the start: he was a good friend, willing to help anyone who needed it. Ib was that example: a little girl wandering around a disaster of an art gallery. She got Garry's rose and helped him. In return, he basically turned into an overprotective big brother. He kept her from any harm. I admit, I am impressed, but he can't give me his rose. He's too much of a chicken.

He's gone through so much with her, though... I wonder, just to keep her alive, if he'll give me his rose. Ib'd be heartbroken; actually, she might not at all get the concept. She could think he's sleeping. All in all, it's a win-win-win: Ib makes it out, I make it out, and Garry is long forgotten. Everyone wins.

Oh yeah, except for Garry.

I really hope he gives me the rose, so I can leave with Ib. My only friends here are the dollies, but I think we all want a new friend to play with. We'd have so much fun!

Please Garry, I really want to play with Ib forever!

... He won't give me the rose, I know it.

I see Garry and Ib exchange glances. Ib is crying a little bit. "Garry..." she whispers. Garry smiles sadly at her, and takes a deep breath. He pulls out his rose and steps up to me.

"... Understood."

I find myself gaping; I quickly shut my mouth and smile. I can't show how happy I really am; it will raise suspicions. I dash upstairs and plop down. I want to play as long as possible.

I think as I pluck each petal. 'He's really brave. For a feminine weirdo like him with purple hair, I'm impressed!' I giggle a bit as I pull the next to last petal off. One more petal, and I'll have a new friend, thanks to him. One more petal and I'm free.

I suddenly gasp, my mouth hanging open once more. The true weight of what he has done, and what I am doing, falls and hits me like a boulder. He must know it too. This isn't just for Ib: This is for me too.

I shield the nearly bare rose like what it is: a dying person. I dash out to the hallway, where I see Garry all alone. He's wincing and crying in pain; he makes no noise but tears stream down his cheeks. The lavender hair that I once saw neatly combed is in a state of disarray, and he still tries to tug at it to ignore the pain. I choke out a sob at his pathetic state.

"What...are you doing here?" he wheezes, eyes filling with hatred. He reaches out a feeble hand to try and strike me. I gently take it in my own.

"You're amazing," I whisper to him. His eyes widen, but I continue. "You're kind, considerate, caring, and loyal. Honestly, you're everything that describes a good person. I think you're amazing, and..." I take a deep breath, "I just now realized that I love you.

"You've cared for Ib for so long. I am eternally grateful for how wonderfully you protected her. But now, it's my turn. I want to be a big sister; I want to love and be loved."

I lay a hand on Garry's shoulder. He's smiling now, and I smile through my tears. "I think I love you too," he says, nearly silent. I laugh in joy and hug him lightly. "Be good to Ib; she's but a little girl, and she wanders off easily. Also, make sure you never give her uncooked eggs; she's allergic and they'll upset her stomach." I smile even more, but the tears don't stop. "Try to remember that I love you, and that I love Ib. I'm okay with going now. Mary, be amazing."

Still crying, I tuck the almost naked rose into his hair. Even though it has one petal, that one petal shines like a sapphire in contrast to his lavender curls. Putting my hand back in his, I press my lips against Garry's. He kisses back, and I feel almost happy about being the one to take his life. Another person would make it hurt more.

I lean back and smile an apologetic smile. "Are you mad?"

He laughs a weak laugh. "Of course I'm not mad. Just take your chance at this new life."

I'm still upset by what I'm doing. "I'm sorry, Garry."

He puts his hand on my shoulder. "Oh, Mary. There's nothing to be sorry for. I'm glad that we know how we feel and I'm happy for Ib. She'll have a good friend."

"Fine then." I giggle. I softly press my lips to his forehead. Then, in unison with swiftly but gently plucking off the last bright blue petal, I whisper two words.

"Thank you."