I spin and my turquoise prom dress flares around me. I examine myself in the mirror once more before I leave. I notice how much skinnier I’ve gotten in the past three months.
Seeing a limo pull up in front of my small, two-story house, I walk downstairs and slip into my heels at the door. Huge wads of hair come out as I brush through it one more time. I hear the soft knock of Bradyn. I open the door, and he has his hand held out for me to take. I see the sun glisten off his hazel eyes. His gorgeous black hair, neater than ever before. I see the sunflower he brought for me just as he always does. As he guides  me to the limo and opens the door for me, he  says, “After you, My Lady.” I climb in and see my friends with mile-wide grins.
I think about the day when Bradyn asked me out. I remember his soft, shy voice. I remember the smell of soap that always accompanied him.  When I  stayed after school for band rehearsals, he always seemed to sit and listen. I was in the middle of playing “Minuet” when he interrupted, timidly saying, “You play beautifully.” I thanked him and finished the song with butterflies in my stomach. I thought that it was just a brief moment, but it was more. I thought that the words he had uttered was all that was going to happen. My knees began to tremble, and my stomach had a fluttering feeling. Euphoria built inside me. As I was walking out of the band hall, he grabbed my hand. My heart skipped a beat. That was the moment I had waited for since seventh grade.
He asked me if I had a ride. I told him no, which was a lie. While we were in the car, he pulled over to a patch of sunflowers, and asked me the one question I never thought would come. He said to me in the most amiable voice ever, “Look, I have been too shy to ask you this since the day I first saw you… Olivia Taylor, will you go out with me?” In a state of ecstasy, I thought I was dreaming.

I regain focus as we arrive at Olive Garden. The next few hours seem to fly by. We arrive to prom and hit the dance floor. The room is decorated with streamers and balloons of our school colors: maroon and black. Everyone wears dresses made with lace and bright colors. They have on tall heels and corsages. The boys wear tuxes and have their hair combed back.
As Bradyn and I dance, I start feeling weak. My knees begin to buckle. After he takes me to our table and sits me down, he goes to get me a glass of water. While he’s gone, my best friend gives me a worried look and says, “You have to tell him!”
“I’m fine,” I reply with a blatantly fake smile.
When he comes back, I grin at him. I tell him I’m okay, and he hesitantly takes me back to dance. We’re dancing for what seems like hours. As he twirls me in circles, my stomach begins doing flips. I tell Bradyn that I need to use the restroom. As I’m walking away, my knees go weak… I collapse. My head is spinning and my vision goes black.
Ten minutes later, I wake up in the school nurse’s station. I still feel weak, but I tell him that the bright lights made me dizzy. He shudders in fear that I’m hurt and looks at me with concerning eyes. He makes me rest for a few more minutes and then guides me back to the gymnasium.
We dance even more, and I start to fall. At first I catch myself on a table. I jump when I hear the clatter as the vase that was once on top, falls to the floor. I suddenly am too weak to stand. Falling, a shard of glass pierces my stomach. I scream bloody murder. The thick blood seems to pour out of me. The foul smell is sickening.
Bradyn runs to me. He screams, “Help! Somebody, call 911!” This is the first time I’ve ever seen him cry. The tears slip out like an erupting volcano. I don’t even understand the sight.
Finally, the ambulance arrives. I get to the hospital and am too weak for my eyes to remain open easily. There is so much strain when I try.
The last thing I see before my vision darkens is the flushed, tear-stained face of my mother.
Ever since that day, May 18, nothing has been the same. Classrooms are quiet as the teacher lectures, the cafeteria has a different feel to it. Everything is just so empty, without one person. Nobody really understands what’s going on anymore. My mother has been depressed, my sister never leaves her room, my dad is always getting drunk.

It’s now August, and I lie beneath the ground in my stone cold coffin ???? or at least my body does.
I still remember the doctor taking my mother out into the hall and telling her. I still remember her coming back into the hospital room, hugging me, whispering, “I love you!” over and over again. I remember the tears streaming down my own face before I even knew what had happened. I remember when I decided not to tell anyone. I remember the words slipping out of my mouth in the lunchroom at school.
I made the wrong decision. I wish I had told Bradyn. I don’t know how he never caught on; I fell all of the time, I was really dizzy and nauseous constantly. I wish he hadn’t had to find out like that. I just didn’t want him to know that he would lose me over a stupid brain tumor.
It wasn’t actually the cancer that killed me; it was the constant excruciating  pain. I couldn’t take it anymore.
The last thing I remember before I passed on is Bradyn placing sunflowers on my grave. My heart shattered, killing the soul inside my already dead body.