2

We went to the park, where the snow covered the area in a big, white blanket. I made sure that she was wearing lots of sweaters when we left so she wouldn't get cold, (even if I did to live the last day like nothing). I know, but that didn't mean I should let her die in a second.

I grabbed her hand when she felt like she was alone, even if I was by her side. I knew very well that she still had some regret for leaving the house. That's my fault, but I wasn't going to let her regret be proven right. I wanted her to be happy. This day was for her. Not anyone else.

She looked at me and said, "You don't have to do that."

I was about to talk, but looked at her and saw her smile.

"You really want me to say that I want to, do you?"

"Let this be like a dream, even if it's from used up lines from third-rate romantic-comedies."

"Well, no, I won't. I want to give you something that's real. I don't want to say that I want to because it's more than that. It's like if you see a black raven in the desert. It stands for more than that."

"I don't think ravens are in the desert."

"Really?" I said. "I'm trying to make a point and you're doing this now?"

She laughed a bit.

We walked further along the sidewalk that wasn't filled by much snow.

Then, out of nowhere, she pushed me in the snow.

I looked at her with confusion.

I laughed a bit, but I was still confused.

"Why did you do that?" I asked.

"So I can be normal," she said. "You don't know how many people in my position hate the behavior of people feeling sorry for them. Well, push me. Push me like there was no sickness, that I wasn't poor, that I didn't have bad grades from some disability. Push me."

I got up and didn't obey.

She noticed and asked why didn't I push her.

I said, "Because I can do this instead."

She screamed, "Wait. What are you doing?"

I grabbed her by her legs and spin her around, where we fell together in the snow. When we were spinning around, I swear that I saw the beauty that I saw when I first met her—full of optimism, full of energy, so full of life. It reminded me why I fell in love with her the first time I saw her.

It was at lunch during sixth grade. I overheard a couple of her friends (or at least I think they were) saying, "Don't do it!" and "You're crazy!" But when I saw her just jumping around her table, dancing to her favorite song, I knew that something was up. There, I saw her being happy, truly happy. It wasn't just because of the song. There I saw her just expressing herself because she can. She would. This was her life, and this was the girl you have to know to understand her. Not for me. I knew it from the second I saw her. I met her when I found out that I had division with her. We talked for a while and knew we were friends from the start.

When we were on the ground, she hit my arm, saying, "That doesn't count!"

"Not many people would even spin you around like that."

"True, but—"

"Well, didn't I treat you like a friend I have no pity on?"

She smiled. "No."

I smiled back and grabbed her hand, pulling her up. She told me to wait, saying she wanted to look at the stars, saying that the stars were watching her. While I thought about it, thinking it was crazy, but I saw her being happy to see them, like talking to an old best friend. I let her stay, knowing that this was her. I knew that this wasn't crazy.

Then, after a while, she pulled my hand to get up. But, since she caught me off guard, I fell down with her.

We laughed for a while, but I started to think about whether she didn't know I would fall, or she knew that I would fall and wanted someone to be with her.

Whatever it was, I still am happy to see her smile.

We got up and left.