I don’t know why she brought me out here. It was so frigging cold out here! Maybe I should have worn warmer clothes… I look at the tombstone that’s right next to us.  ‘James Warn’ it says. I hope he doesn't mind we're here. I look over to her, and I grin. Her nose and cheeks were so pink. I held her hand lightly, being careful. She was a like a butterfly with hidden wings; her wings, they were her dreams. Her enormous dreams that took over her, sheltered her, protected her. Yet these wings, they were fragile, so easy to break, but, they continued to stay strong and carry her. I leaned a bit closer, she leaned closer.