She was like fire.
A spirit that refused to die, an emotional soul, a courageous fighter. Her fists more intimidating than death, her eyes more welcoming than an old friend. She had a strong body, a beautiful body that bore muscle and war. She knew pain, she knew love, she knew me...
Probably a year older than us... And probably a century wiser - if that makes any sense. Why did she have to find out? Why now? But no, I couldn't remove her from the equation. I tried to - but I didn't want to. I tried to avoid her but I only fed the flame. I wanted to feed the flame. I wanted to see it rise within her.
And now... now I sit gawking, wondering what comes next as she presses a thumb to my cheek, her body so close to mine. She wants to help me but I can feel the blood boiling beneath her flesh.
She was like fire... and this is our story.