The Stupid Scarf

Okay, I need to get this off my chest. It's been eating me up for, like, two years. My grandma knitted me this really ugly scarf. Bright orange and green, thick as hell. I hated it. She gave it to me for Christmas, and she was so proud. I told her I loved it. I wore it once, to her house. Then, I hid it in the back of my closet.

She asked me about it a few times, if I was wearing it. I always lied and said yes, that it kept me so warm. Then, last year, she died. And now I feel like the world's biggest jerk. It was just a scarf. She put so much love into it. I should have just worn the damn thing, even if I looked like a clown. Now it's too late. I still have the scarf, tucked away. I can't even look at it without feeling sick.