She was the most beautiful girl of my relationship, though I have not been sweet on her in time. Friends together that day on the funeral in all probability wept except me. Whoever is dead, I never cry. But when I am far from a death and think of it, I would have tears.

I don't know why I am reluctant to be inquisitive in how she passed away, though I heard about a little and don't bother to tell. She suffered from skin cancer and died near the Spring Festival at the most youthful age for a girl. What she last said to her mother was "I am fine." When one of my friends said she got cancer about skin most likely because of heavy make-up, as she had to put on for her model career, how I wished to broadcast it to girls all over the world that never make up.

She was beautiful not only from the recent years when she had been living animatedly, when she was constantly posting her fairy-like photos. We all cheered for her, but forgetting that she verily deserved to be the class flower long since the middle school time. But I don't know why no one was aware of it before.

When she was in the age for marriage, she became a hardworking girl, having steady jobs. She actually went for the blind dating programme on TV, and was paid court to. But she was finally too late to accept the ideal who hadn't ever come.

I have been in awe of death. It rather disenables me to grieve even when she promises to be an angel. There is never happiness without the pain of life, and is never in heaven the earthly beauty as hers.