"Hey, do you believe the folklore that if you pluck the blue dizzie flower and wear it to the village dance, you'd get married by this year?"

"What the blue dizzie? Yah, you should know it's called folklore for a reason."

"The flower can be found at the abandoned well near the forest."

"You don't say you're crazy enough to..."

"It's worth a try. Pretty sure that well isn't all that deep or has water left anyway. The dance is this weekend. There's still time."

"You're kidding right? You don't tell me you're that desperate to get married."

"What do you think?"

"I think you're either drunk or is severely lacking sleep. Now, off to sleep you go."

"Yeah, I'll do that."

She grinned and went to sleep on my bed. We had been best friends, so sleeping at each others' houses were nothing strange anymore to our families. We lived in a village where girls start getting married after their age turns double digit. We're both nineteen, I never thought we're too old for not being married, still. 

I didn't know she thought the otherwise, what kind of a friend I am?

I'll never forget that grin. 

The grin I'll never be able to see again, after she was found dead inside the well the next morning, horrifyingly. All for that folklore. All for my ignorance.

for 29/7