Seeing you Cry

A narrative story I had to write for English class.

I woke up to the sound of my blaring alarm; the night still clung to the cold air. My French exchange student Flora, who was also my friend, sister, and twin, was leaving that day.

                I slipped out of the room leaving her and the blaring alarm alone in the darkness. I tip-toed to the bathroom to wash the sleep from my face; I stayed in there quite a while, not really doing anything, just looking back at myself in the reflection of the mirror, trying to find some sort of emotion on my face. I felt like it was a typical Tuesday morning; we were up, getting ready, about to eat breakfast, then we’d pack our school bags and away we’d go. But, today was different. Today Flora was packing her bags for good.

                I walked back to our room - soon to be just my room - and put on my clothes; a comfy pair of jeans, and a huge teal hoodie. Flora was fixing her hair; she had already put on her cargo pants and an “Indochine” hoodie, with a warm black scarf. Lying on my bed, I watched her through tired eyes as she packed the last of her belongings. She smiled over at me and told me she was sad; I told her I was sad too. We stayed there in silence for a few moments, and then we left the bedroom carrying her bags in our arms.

                My mom was packing her a gourmet lunch for the plane ride back home as I carried the luggage out to the car. After everything was sure to be packed, the three of us sulked into the vehicle. We drove off onto the dark highway from Lumby to Vernon in silence. Once we arrived into Vernon, we picked up two of my friends, Kayla and Candy, who once in the car, filled it with their cheery wakefulness.  The ride to the airport was opposite to that of the previous highway. This time we talked and laughed about all the memories we had made during those three incredible months. It had been a life-changing experience for all of us, not just Flora. 

                When we arrived at the airport we were all still laughing and talking; like it wasn’t the end, like she wasn’t really leaving. I had just finished sharing my room, my family, my friends, my home, and my life with this stranger for three months. This stranger had quickly become my best friend; and now she was leaving. It didn’t feel real. I didn’t want the moment to end. It was so beautiful; it seemed improper for it to end.  We made it last as long as it could, but eventually she had to go through security and board her plane. We had one last hug, and said one last goodbye; then off she went.


I felt an overwhelming amount of emotions that morning, which I know I’ll never forget. I was so happy that Flora had such an awesome time with us in Canada; I was so happy that had lived withus, thatIhad shown her everything.  I was so happy that she felt the same way and I was happy because I knew that it wasn’t really goodbye. I had been happy because seeing her smile always made me smile. But, I had been sad too, because that was a rare time where I had seen her cry…

The End

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