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February 13, 2014
Flower vendors flock to the gates, to the streets. Tons of roses - pink, white, red. And other flowers. Tulips. Bouquets. Balloons in the shape of hearts.

An eyesore, she thinks to herself.

A blaring reminder of the day after today.

A mocking whisper in her ears, of how unattractive she was. Of how less loved she was compared to the rest of these girls who will tomorrow squeal out in glee as their cardiac muscles work double time to bless their cheeks with a rosy red blush.

More than anything, it was a sickening anniversary that should've been their seventh.