The rocks were quietly sleeping and the trees were mourning. I sat on the ground and looked at the sky. The orange streaks along the canvass brought tears to my eyes.
It was finally a goodbye.
I was the only one alive, after my family died in a car crash. I felt helpless today; alone, even. I clutched my hands at my side and bit my lip. Tears rushed to my cheeks as I closed my eyes.
I felt a hand gripped mine and I opened my eyes, not looking who sat beside me.
“We can live.” His deep, husky voice said. He understood me; he was the pen against my paper and the poetry across my unsaid stories. He was the summer of my winter and the spring of my fall.
“We can live.” I repeated, knowing I will do this for them.