Friends

By lindsay

I wasn't sure of the genre... so give me some ideas and i'll choose a genre.

"Do you remember the roses my grandmother gave us?" I asked her.
"Yes."
"Well, here’s your rose." I handed her a very limp rose. The bottom of the rose petals had turned brown. Some petals fell into her hand and some fell to the ground. With thorns ripped off, it didn’t hurt her when she grabbed it.
"This is mine." I showed her my healthy rose. I pricked myself on one of the few thorns left on the rose. With more original thorns than hers, only some remained.
"So? Your rose just survived longer. Big deal!"
I explained, "I cut the bottom off of the rose because I knew it would live longer. If you look at your rose stem’s bottom, it has never been cut."
"It’s just a rose! Why did you show me this?"
"It seems to me that the roses represent our friendship," I say hesitantly.
"What, mine is droopy and yours is healthy! Are you saying that my friendship is dead and yours isn’t? That makes no sense."
I continue, "Let me explain then. I feel that your rose stays droopy because you didn’t take the time to cut the bottom off of the rose, to take care of it. I did take the time to cut it off. I feel that, by telling him things that you had no business telling him, you weren’t taking care of your rose. And when I touched my rose, I got pricked, and it hurt. Notice that if you touch your rose that you can’t be pricked? I put myself out there and grew thorns that, in turn, was able to hurt me. It seems to me that you haven’t grown thorns, and if you did, you made them all safe."
"What if I didn’t know to cut the rose’s bottom?"
"I thought of that too. If you didn’t know to take care of the rose, then you didn’t know what you were doing in my eyes. You never thought that what I told you had left a thorn on my rose that could turn around and hurt me."

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