Once upon a time there was a flower, it was nothing special, nothing rare, it lived in
a forest with millions of other flowers just like it. But in that forest, surrounded by others like it, it was all alone. One day a young girl came out to the meadow and fell in love with
the flowers originality. For you see, though it was just another flower, it was different than all the others for its color was a rare one.
The child played with the flower and had tea parties and loved the flower very much. But when the sun started to set the child did not wish to leave the flower, so she plucked it from the ground and took it home and placed it in a glass of water. The flower was scared as it was ripped from the ground, knowing the stories of how other flowers died when pulled, but the flower trusted the girl, it knew the child loved it and was just wanting more time with it, so the flower was happy.
Every day the girl would smile at it, place it on the tea table and tell it how beautiful it was and that she loved it and the flower was happy. But as the days went by the girl stopped doing as much with it, slowly it she stopped smiling at it. The flower hoped it was just the girl having a bad day, it told itself that surely the girl still loved it, for the flower still loved the girl.
The flower held onto those memories but the girl kept changing. The flower began to fear that it was at fault, perhaps it wasn't as bright as it once was, so the flower decided to ask for fresh water, but the girl never came. As the days past the water in the glass dried up and the flower cried out for the girl but she would not hear him, so the flower wept, and wilted, its heart shattered. The next day the girl returned with a rose, the now wilted flower asked the girl again for water, but the child only frowned and said, "why would i water you? You're all wilted, it is simply easier to get a new flower. You are too much trouble".
The flower cried and its petals fell, in place of the tears that were no more. The girl frowned, angry at the flower for making a mess with its petals. She took the once loved flower and threw it out the window forgetting about it. The flower was dying, alone, no one to care for it, the sun dried out its stem and slowly the flower decomposed, its only comfort was the memories of the girl smiling down at it with love.
As the days past and the flower lay dying, it would watch as the girl would play with the rose. That loving smile, the laugh that made the flower come to life, the flower yearned to have that smile directed at it just once more, but it never came. Yet the flower waited, convinced that it would come, and it was happy as it died,foolish little flower, it should have known better, flowers are replaceable.