A/N: This one will be short (504+ words), but it'll be a sucker punch to your kokoro.

Be prepared with a couple of tissues.

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To this day, and forevermore, I will never forget what she has done for me.

She had picked me up when I was at my lowest point in life. She carried me home when I couldn't bring myself to walk.

She took care of my wounds, even though she did not know me.

She gave me a bed to sleep in and clothes to wear. A room to be comfortable in. A house to live in. A place to grow.

She made me laugh so hard I wheezed. Her puns were so terrible they were hilarious. She read me stories from science to fantasy to 101 uses for bananas.

She let me play outside with a blue and red ball. Play catch and make leaf piles with me.

She praised when I got something right on quizzes, and guided me when I was incorrect.

She made sure I was comfortable. She made food she and I both liked. Nothing could beat her butterscotch cinnamon pie. I helped her out in keeping the house clean, since I knocked over the bookshelf once. Even now I still feel bad for it.

She laughed it off and helped me clean up and put the books back in perfect alphabetical order.

When I sketched, I asked her to critique. She never said anything bad about them. She told me they were wonderful drawings, pointing out what she liked best. She didn't disappoint when she respectfully pointed out things I could work on.

When I wrote essays and went to bed, I would wake up the next 'morning' to find sticky notes filled with correctional advice.

Whenever I was down, she would either talk to me and distract from my horrible mood, or ask what was wrong.

She would let me cry on her shoulder, telling me it was alright.

I would get night terrors. More than usually she would find me curled up under the bed in mornings, shaking and screaming.

She helped me by resting my mind with healing magic so I could sleep peacefully throughout the night. The flashbacks couldn't be helped though. She did the best she could, comforting me through the episodes.

Since I didn't have my anxiety pills anymore, I was having a lot more attacks over things so small and simple. I tracked mud through the house once, and began to hyperventilate. I thought she would hate me.

Instead, she calmed me and told me it was okay, just not to do it again. She helped me clean my mess up and gave me warm hugs afterwards, asking if I wanted to play board games with her.

Today and forevermore, I will never forget what she has done for me.

She truly was a treasure.

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The dust in front of me now couldn't be her....

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It couldn't.

It couldn't be...!

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The flower seems to think it's funny.