So, this was for my English class. It's rather good, if I do say so myself. Be prepared for some angst. It took some effort, because I wrote it without any mention to who're in the story.

The sky was perfect, an unblemished blue, and the sun shone like a polished gold coin on the day of our picnic. I was instantly on my gaurd, and insisted that we pack an umbrella and raincoats, not that my companion was against it of course.

We had both learnt long ago to not trust the weather when it was far too perfect on a special day.

We walked together, side by side on the pavement, with the sun's cheerful glare on our backs. I took it all in with a smile and sniffed the air. It was filled with the scent of flowers, probably from a neighbor's garden.

"We're here." My companion's words broke the almost peaceful silence, before it got too much, and it happened again.

I flashed the speaker a grateful smile and added, "Thanks." The reply to that was a nod and twitch of the lips.

Walking past the entrance, we went to our usual spot by the lake. The water shimmered in the sunlight while the waves danced with the wind. We sat under the tree, and I took out my sketchbook, hoping to capture the scene by my own hand.

Looking up, I caught sight of the last place I wanted to see. I froze. Sensing my distress, the one beside me followed my gaze, and murmured, "Sorry", when the object of my distress was seen.

Turning to the speaker, I stuttered out, "You knew that I'd see the place, didn't you?" The guilty look I got in reply was enough.

Breathing deeply to stave off the inevitable breakdown, I got up and looked at my accomplice straight in the eye, "Well then, let's go visit."

Wincing, the other got up quickly. Perhaps I was being harsh, but there was a reason the saying went, 'You make your own bed, and now you must lie in it.'

Walking around the lake, we had nearly reached, when it began to drizzle. We put on the raincoats. I wore the black one, my companion put on the grey one.

I refused to stand under the umbrella, it reminding me of that day.

As we neared, the atmosphere grew more dreary, till at last I kneeled at the spot. I felt an arm around me. My companion had knelt next to me.

I turned my gaze back and broke down in steady, careful, arms that held me close to a beating heart, to remind me that I too, was alive. The rain became a downpour, but neither of us moved.

There were bouquets around us, all blood-red roses. I felt nauseous. These things were a mockery of what could have been, had the thing in front of me never existed.

In front of us, the gravestone stood impassively, until we finally left.