I climbed the brown, rough bark with my worn out converse. They were my favorite color; red. Yet, they were now painted with scuffs, marks, and sharpie hearts. The raging sun set over the houses, making them a silhouette of time. Orange, yellow, and purple burned over the horizon. The day was ending, and it was time for everything to rest. Quietness. My hands grabbed onto the worn branch of the oak tree, the only noise being my badly painted fingernails scraping the wood. I gained footing, and sat down comfortably. It wasn’t as comfortable as my bed, or the couch in the living room, but it was well worth it. This tree wiped away all of my problems. There was something special about this living thing. 

“Ivy!” I heard her call my name as I settled down on the branch. That familiar voice. She ran towards me with excitement, her blonde hair blowing everywhere in the evening breeze. With ease, she climbed her way up next to me and made herself at home. Her name was Lily. She was as pretty as a flower. She twirled her golden locks between her fingers and stared at the burning sun, realizing I was fixated on it. I broke my contact from the scenery and smiled at her. From then on, we talked for hours about the good and bad things that were happening in our lives. Whether day or night, we were always together. If we weren’t together, we probably would rather be in this tree as we usually were. It was our “secret” hang out spot, even though it was right in my backyard. It was a giant oak tree, with its long limbs sprawled out in different ways. Fall was stepping into season, so the leaves were turning an orange-ish hue, and many had already fallen off. It’s sad to think that everything that's beautiful, must eventually disappear. Eventually, it was getting a bit too dark to stay out any longer. My mom looked through the patio door at me. “Your dad’s home, Ivy, he’ll wonder where you are.” she said loudly as she waved her hands to come inside, giving a small smile to my friend.  I shook my head and yelled back, saying I'd be in soon. Though we looked at each other with sad eyes, I took a deep breath and smiled, knowing we’d see each other tomorrow. We did our little handshake, joked a little more, then climbed down. We parted ways, left and right. I looked back at her and thought about what she had talked about. 

“She probably just has the flu.” My dad said as he ate dinner, shrugging his shoulders. I lifted my fork, poking at my plate. I couldn’t eat. My mind was racing with thoughts from every angle. I scraped it on the porcelain before putting it down. Lily hadn’t come out outside that evening. I waited on her for an hour, hoping that every movement was her. Yet, it was just leaves falling off of the surrounding trees. I eventually decided to go to her door, mustering up the courage. My maroon sneakers trudged along the green grass and stopped at the door mat. Knock, knock. I only knocked twice, thinking it’d be rude to knock a third time. Her grandma opened the door, a tired yet worried face painted onto her. She was a kind, older woman with gray and blonde hair. It was like silver and gold. “Oh, I'm sorry, is Lily home?” I managed to say, shifting my weight between both feet in anxious anticipation. She smiled and greeted me before thinking. The woman took a deep breath, holding onto the door knob. “I’m afraid she’s come down ill..” A wrinkle formed on her forehead as she stressed. My face froze slightly, just nodding automatically. I wasn’t even thinking. “Oh, I hope she feels better soon.” I frowned slightly and waved goodbye, hearing the door shut behind me while I walked away. 

A few weeks later, she sat next to me on the old bark, quieter than usual. It was the first time we’d seen each other in a while. Not wanting to push it, I kept my energy the same as usual. While she talked to me I watched her hands run through her hair. It wasn’t golden anymore. It was dull. Threads of gold fell as she made a braid out of it, landing on the ground below us. I raised my eyebrows in shock. “Lily, your hair.” I said, sadness seeping through my voice. She quickly moved her hands down, putting them in her lap. Silence. I stayed quiet, examining her face as a single tear ran down it. Her body was as frail as ever. She wasn’t herself. It wasn’t the flu. “Can I tell you something, that you swear you won’t tell anybody else?” A murmur escaped her mouth. I nodded and sat closer, being all ears. She talked about how she woke up one night and felt sick, told her mom, and they went to the hospital. Her symptoms began to worsen as the days went on, and they kept her there. Turns out, when I went looking for her that evening, she was already in the hospital for a full day. Cancer was trying to take my best friend. They were the worst days of my life; slowly watching her slip away from my view. When she came out and met me, it was a rare occurrence. She didn’t have the energy to climb up the tree anymore. A once rambunctious, flexible person was now severely weak. Every night before bed, I wished on the stars that shone outside my window; that some day there would be a miracle. 

That miracle never came true, only a figment of my imagination. I hung out everyday in that tree. Alone, the only noise being my shoes hitting the bark every few seconds. It comforted me. My parents would brush off my sadness and say that she’d be fine. But how did they know? How did anybody know? I felt fire burning inside of my heart like the sunset that once set on that evening. Anger, sadness, regret, guilt. For some reason, I felt like the worst friend ever. I could never visit her; I was too upset. My mom took me one evening to meet her. Instead,  I turned around. Going through them sliding doors into the sadness of a children's hospital was too much for me. Young kids in wheelchairs, oxygen masks covering their faces, some with IVs. I kept thinking about how they can’t live their childhood normally. They were so young. I broke down that day and never went to meet her. She must’ve wondered where I was. I’m sorry, Lily. 

Well, I did get to see her occasionally. My mom convinced me that all of the kids in the hospital were being taken care of, how great hospitals are, and that it wasn’t a place to be scared of. I remember taking a deep breath that day and nodding, agreeing. She always comforted me when I felt down. I brought flowers to Lily every time. Her favorite were Lilies. I know, it’s obvious. Her face lit up in delight when she would see them, smelling their petals and holding onto them. Her mom would tell her to put them onto the side table, but she wanted to hold them close to her. She did this every time, her appearance becoming worse.

Tears ran down my face like a neverending rainstorm. My dad stood in front of me. “Why..” I managed to say as I stood in shock, not understanding what he was saying. It all sounded like it was distant. My brain blocked it out. “I’m sorry, honey.” He said as he knelt down slightly, hugging me as I wrapped my arms around him. That same old feeling; anger, sadness, regret, and guilt. All at the same time. I had gone to the hospital with flowers for her, as usual. The air felt thick that day; almost like there was no happiness. I stepped into the elevator and went up 5 floors, feeling lighter every time it went higher. It opened with a low screech, and I stepped out into the hallway confidently. After spending a few minutes checking in, I marched to her room. The lights buzzed overhead with a slight hum as I walked in. 

Silence. A nurse stood by her bedside, fixing sheets onto it. I decided to keep getting closer. I thought she was maybe in the bathroom. I was wrong. The woman turned slowly and jumped slightly, giving me a smile. “Oh..” She looked at my face, trailing her eyes down to the bouquet in my hands. She gulped and stood there. “Sorry, is this Lily's room?” I decided to cut the awkwardness. A nod was returned. The nurse put an arm around my shoulder and led me over to the set of chairs, adjacent to the empty sheets. I stared at them, refusing to sit before she could say a word to me. I stared at her with tears forming in my eyes, eventually paying my attention to the Lillies in my arms. I leaned in and smelt them, closing my eyes. Flowers are hard to describe if you're not near them, but trust me, they smelt like vanilla ice cream. I lifted them slowly and put them up to the white light, studying them. They were a yellowish-white, with hints of pink running down. They were soft to the touch, delicate. Every petal lay perfectly. They made me happy. Meanwhile, my mind raced through every memory that I've ever had with her. All of them years, listening to her laughter and listening to her cry. Quietness filled the room. I lay them down on the cold sheet. I left.

My eyes burned as I cried into his shoulder, hoping it was just a bad dream and that I'd wake up. But I never did. It was reality, and sometimes it pushes you down when you try to get up again. Reality was living without my best friend. Reality was sitting in that tree, alone everyday. I lifted my head and looked up at him. My eyes were dry. I’d cried until I couldn’t anymore. 

This was 15 years ago. I know, it’s been a long time. It sounds like a lifetime to some, but it feels like yesterday to me. I cried, and cried for weeks on end, maybe even months. It felt like I lost the other half of me. Yet, I eventually realized that it wasn’t what she’d want me to be like. She’d want me to be happy, and to enjoy life. She’d want me to go outside, make tons of friends and laugh with them. I couldn’t. It felt wrong to just forget her. I know I wouldn't be, but she was irreplaceable in my heart. I sat in that tree everyday after school, rain or shine. I never made any friends. I watched the leaves fall off, grow back, turn colors, and everything. The life cycle always amazed me. It always kept going, and fighting until the warm weather returned. It sounds silly to say, but I was inspired by its perseverance. I’m 26 years old now, and I work as a nurse in a children's hospital. The one place that I was scared of, is actually my favorite place to be. It isn’t negative at all, it’s full of beauty. I help kids who are just like her, to fight and be strong. I know they can get through this. I tell most of them about you, Lily. They can relate to you, knowing they’re not alone. They enjoy my stories about all of the fun things we’d do together. You’d enjoy seeing their expressions when I told them about you falling off your make-shift tire swing. They liked that one.

I come back to the tree often. I sit right on our favorite branch and watch the sun set in the distance. My favorite color is still red, and I even held onto that pair of converse I practically lived in. I should buy a new pair, for old times sake. I kicked my feet back and forth, putting my hands underneath my legs. A breeze blew past my face, despite the fact that there was no wind outside. The leaves didn’t move. As always, the day was ending and it was time for everything to rest. Orange, yellow, purple. “Ivy!” I heard faintly as I turned my head to the right. Nobody was there.