Crocuses 

Chen Zi Ying (J2 Washington) 2022476

        A sudden movement outside the glass caught my attention. It was winter and dark out, so I should be trying to preserve warmth in the house, but I opened the window anyway. A bird had fallen after freezing to death. Its delicate feathers were covered in ice and snow, contrasting the dark purple Crocuses it lay in. I decided to give it a proper burial. 

        I head towards the door, only to be stopped by my elderly cat, Jorie. He was my mother’s, but he's my responsibility now. He stood before the door, pushing against my legs. "I'm doing this for her too," I whisper. "She didn't even get a funeral." 

        Harsh winds hit my face as I stepped out. I hadn't covered up, so it was freezing. It took a while to dig through the snow and reach the dirt. Kneeling down, I gently picked up the fallen bird, careful not to harm the Crocus she planted. I laid it into the freshly dug hole. 

        Jorie rubbed his head against my cheek. I felt his fur dampen, discovering two streams running down my face. I sniffled, trying to clear my nose, and buried the bird. The stream of tears turned into rushing rivers. "She can finally rest now, Jorie," I sobbed. He crawled into my lap and tried to lick my tears away. I plucked a Crocus and placed it onto the makeshift grave, ignoring how my fingers had turned a shade similar to the petals. 

        Already numb to the cold, I decided to keep her company for a little longer. I lay down, Jorie by my side, and said goodnight to them both for the very last time. She always told me Crocuses symbolize new beginnings. I think I'll start anew when I can see you again, Mother. ■