Every year, his birthday would bring so many happy memories of us playing in the park or woods, having sleepovers, of just the two of us. Then all those happy memories fade away and are replaced by the ones I wish I could forget. I always visit his grave and just talk about whatever, but on this day, I never stay very long. If I do, I'll lose the fight to hold my tears back. 'Caleb Wilson, 2001-2016, Born May, 30, Died May 30' is what his gravestone read. He died on his 16th birthday. I wish him a happy birthday, battling my tears, and head home. My arrival at home is always greeted with silence. Everyone looked at each other, questioning whether to talk to me or ask if I was alright. "I'm fine, don't worry about me," I always say, placing an awfully crooked smile on my face, then head upstairs. I shut my bedroom door behind me, and immediately head in the direction of my bed. I look up and stare at the ceiling, and then finally...the tears I've been holding back trickle down my cheeks. My nose became cherry pink, and I couldn't breathe properly. Eventually, after what always seemed like hours of insistent crying, I stopped and fell into a deep sleep. As I leaned to the side, I was awakened by the tickling touch of flowers. 'Flowers?!' I thought to myself. I swiftly rose, and to my surprise, I was surrounded by beautiful yellow flowers that shone bright in the sun. I looked around. 'Where am I?' I wasn't in my bedroom anymore, that I was certain, but the place was nowhere I knew of. I tried to keep my composure as I assessed the situation, but a voice halted my train of thought.