Every miracle and good is done has two things combined: confidence and joy in knowing what you did go into the category of being exceptional. However every tragedy and bad is expressed through insecurity and depression. Your first instinct when you have a special someone in mind is to tenaciously believe that he likes you. Your second instinct is to second-guess your first instinct. Call me weak and a loser. And what a bad loser I make. My name is Viva, one of the three things that I know as true besides the fact that I am fifteen. The other two? Well, you will know if you listen with your empathy.
It is snowing even in February, you expect the snow will melt and sun rises to give Valentine’s Day some flavor in warmth. It snows until every single ice crystal creates a layer of slush icing over what used to be a road. I am hopeful for a good day, but something holds me back, warning me not to get my hopes up. There is always a placard in front of you stating the name of the high school, Concord Carlisle Regional High School. It doesn’t only tell you the name, it tells you; beware of the good and bad.
They sell carnations for two dollars each. People write down their names with the recipient’s name, classroom number, block, and a Valentine’s message. I hear rumors about a boy, who I like, is going to give me a carnation on Valentine’s Day. Sean gave the insecure me one thing: confidence and support. I doubt it, the insecure me says, “No way.” But a voice said, “Maybe, you never know.” I turn around to see if someone said it instead of my conscience. There is no one. ‘Shut up’ I tell my conscience.
I know I most likely won’t get a carnation and tell myself a carnation will wilt and a carnation doesn’t symbolize love. Love isn’t even defined by the two dollars seemingly to be waving in front of me. I am worried if this is a prank, but I am hopeful. The thought of flowers wilting and the insignificant two dollars comforts me enough to continue believing I might.
It is a Friday, February 14th, Valentine’s Day. B-Block: no carnations. Good. It gives me false hope if there are. G-Block is Math. James and Kris are expecting me to get a carnation. Two people a boy and a girl are holding carnations with little red paper cards. The boy, who is a junior, tries to read my name, handing me a carnation. I take the carnation and read Sean’s name. A wide smile reveals itself on my lips.
A few blocks later I took the carnation, smiling. People were excited buzzing. I am suspicious. How did they know? Maybe, James and Kris told everyone. Talia, one of my best friends, calls out to Sean, who turns.

“Sean, Viva got your carnation.” I keep telling her shut up, but she brushes my hand away.

“Talia, shut it,” I growl. It is embarrassing.

“I did not get it for her. Someone else did,” Sean said the dreaded words. My heart beats. One, lub, Two, dub, Three, lub. Like ice, my smile froze. This is a prank. Knew it! Despite the laughter around me, I keep on smiling because I do not want to cry and be a poor looser. I feel like one. But who would want to play such an odious trick on me? Who would be that bored? I realize a horrible truth: no one likes me as a human being like I think they do.
A few blocks later, I waited and waited for a chance to end all of my memories and all of this. Finally the bell rang for F-Block I am free to go. I climb the stairs to the roof. The wind is billowing. There are very few colors in the background. This is a prank. I utterly failed in telling myself to stop thinking---to stop hoping.
It is very simple what I want to do now. You know. The wind gravitates me to jump. I rip the crimson petals off of the carnation, letting them fly across the sky like tears of blood. The last thing I ripped is the card like a hated enemy, slowly and angrily. I bend my knees and jump off the roof, holding the stem of the flower with little petals left and waiting for the impending death. I wait to feel the soaking blood that will paint my white clothes. I relax my hand and stare at the dying carnation.
A girl is screaming for help. I can hear her, unconscious. I am able to smile. Blood coming from my head slowly eases out. Two other seniors are coming to help with adults running behind. I smile because I am released from the transitory pain I feel. I smile because the people are victorious and I am the looser. I smile because there will be a headline saying, “15 year-old Girl Commits Suicide on CCHS Roof” on the front page of the news. But I cannot resign myself to be willing to admit I lost to the people, who wanted this.

I smile because that is a thought. The second thing I know for certain suicide cannot end things. It will only excite the disgusting hearts of the people behind the prank. The wind blows my hair. I stare at the same girl heading into the school. At least, she isn’t going to witness something she doesn’t need to. Instead of jumping, I throw the stem down and smile, sighing, relieved. Someone will find it.

Down the stairs, I run my hands against the railing, carefree. Sean is at the bottom of the stairs. I stop dead in my tracks, three steps above the bottom of the stairs.

“You okay?” Sean’s eyes are worried. I smile, nod, and continued down the stairs. He takes my hand, taking me by surprise. Sean and I went down into the cafeteria and talk as friends. It is better that way.

The third thing? It is better to always look into the future. Not the present or the past. The carnation for me is a turn of events. I will pretend it is a gift instead of a prank, and move on.