I stood amongst what seemed like a hundred people, all dressed in black. They all came to show their respects, gathering in small groups and placing white roses on the cold coffin. I brushed the red petals of the rose in my hand with my finger. Her favourite flower was red roses because they reminded her of the bright red chipped nail polish she used to paint her nails, the colour of bright red convertibles that raced through the city and the reddish tinge that would adorn the sky as the sun was setting. White roses had no colour and insulted her colourful personality. They thought that they knew her but the didn't know her like I did. Underneath all the innocence everyone knew, was a girl craving for independence and adventure. Her parents may say that the happiest moment in her life was the day she graduated, and although she absolutely hated school, it wasn't her most cherished moment. The truth is that although she loved her parents with all her heart, the week away with her friends and I at the cabin was the moment she loved the most. The newfound freedom lit up her smile and if she was happy, you could bet your bottom dollar that everyone else was too. She was my heart, my soul and even though we were young, she was my love. How I'd learn to live without her, I have no idea but at least I'd know that I had had her love. So as I laid the red rose amongst the colourless others that filled the coffin's surface, I knew this was my final goodbye and that she was in a better place.