A Living Beauty, A Beautiful Death

This story is in the eyes of Duncan. The female character is unknown...its for you to decide.

A ride through the countryside turned gruesome for two girls on a chilly, windy night. The ice...the call...the horror. I got up from the hospital bench when a woman called me into the room. I was never dating her, and I wish I changed my mind.

"Hey..." I say.

"You...you came." She says. I smile at her pretty face. If only there weren't a cast around her arm, I would hold her hand, and never forget the soft, warm skin.

"Yeah...I did." I say.

"I just wish that I didn't-" She says, but I cut her off.

"Don't say anything. Nothing you do is a mistake. Are you ready for tomorrow. I know going to the funeral will be hard, but we have to be strong." I say, changing the subject.

"I won't be well enough,,,please don't make me go. I made her go with me that night. I can't walk." She says.

I walk outside and get in my car. My black suit makes me look nice. I wanna look nice for the funeral. I drive there and on my way, I get a call. I stop my car and I hit and hit a hospital truck and it rolls forwards, denting other cars in the process. "Oh my god!" I yell. A truck comes by and hits the hospital truck on the side. I just stare as it rolls over and I run to the truck. I lift the side of it to see a familiar face...the machine beeps slowly. "No!" I yell. "I was just...going...to the funeral like you asked." She says. "I love you. I love you so much. We have to get you back to the hospital!" I yell. The machine stops and a long beeping sound occurs. I stare at the grip scene as if a nightmare...bu I will never wake up.

I stand side by side with others, and watch as the two best friends get buried together. She would have been standing next to me today...but she wasn't. But when I looked over, Jasmine was crying. I cried too. Others were here from the show, but I didn't dare talk to anyone, for now, I looked like a monster. But I knew that she would be proud if I talked to them. I watched as she wore her blue dress...it was beautiful. In my head, I sung a sung that we sung in the hospital as she got better.

"You are my living beauty.

You are rising star.

You will always be pretty.

I will love you from near to far."

Except this time, I sung the next verse:

"This beautiful death.

Used to be my living beauty.

I can still feel her breath.

Still very peaceful and pretty."

And as I sung those words, I felt a warmth around me, knowing her spirit is hugging my sad soul.