The flower I was holding was as white as the snow that fell down on me. I held it tightly but with care against my chest. Sorrowfully I followed the now snow-white path. Every breath left a foam in the air. My footsteps heavy but also determined to arrive where I wanted to be so bad. My lips pressed together tightly I turned left and followed the path that was decorated with beautiful flowers. A memory from last month began to form in my head…