We were given an object and told tell why this was the most important thing in the world to us. I was given the 1 birthday candle.

“My Last Birthday”

I kept it in a box in a very safe place. Everyone would laugh if they knew, but I didn’t care. It was from my last birthday. Not the last one I had–it was just my last birthday. It was the last cake my mom baked for me. From the last time she gave me a present. It was all I had left from that day, and it was silly, but I didn’t care. Mom had bought it, and Mom had put it on my cake. It was a candle–the one, and it was all I had left of my 14th birthday–a week later Mom died. That was my last birthday.

I would really like to develop this into a short story.