A Wilted Flower

I stared at a box. The box was vase shaped, with small arches and swirls on the sides. The top had a ring of rich prairie coloured grass gold that showed a rainbow when turned. It wasn't a big vase, small vase, long or short, cracked or polished, but it made me feel like it was broken or missing something. Maybe because that's because my grandma was inside, all alone without me.

Well, her ashes were anyway. Her spirit had been gone a long time ago, past this intoxicating Earth, through the too bright stars, and right into the gates of Heaven. It made me mad that God didn't take me with her. He didn't even give me a chance! She was up in paradise while I sat alone on a very uncomfortable hospital seat. The doctor said she died of pneumonia, but I doubt that. She was too strong to die from a commonly know illness. They must have poisoned her and made up an excuse to hide. At least that's what I like to believe. Now I'm sitting ont his uncomfortable hard wood floor, watching my grandmas vase move with the teared up eyes of others that miss her way less than I do. Set her back down, I said. Your gonna hurt her!, I said. o one paid any attention since it was all in my head. Now it was cold. Why is it cold? Oh, everyone's already gone, leaving the door open for me to shut. I got up and shit it, not because they told me to, but because it was really cold. I tired back around and picked up the yellow tulips my younger sister had picked for my grandmas shrine. I smashed it so hard to the ground I thought it would evaporate just like grandmas soul, but it didn't. All it did was smash and lay some chilly water for me to clean. I stepped on every piece of glass so it would hurt my foot. This was my punishment for hurting something that didn't deserve it.