Knowing [A Novel]

One: A Chain of Flowers

The sun was hidden behind the faint white mist of clouds in that ordinary morning in the middle of April.

A lovely day it seems, but she was lonely in that very meadow of flowers, but not quite alone.

You see, she was different. She was very pale despite the light, her deep red hair standing out against her face and her emerald eyes, the only thing about her that seems bright and alive.

‘She was weird’ everyone thought, She was someone they’ll never dare to play with.

All the other boys and girls were somewhere far, but still near enough for the little girl to see in the distance; playing, having fun, doing the things she’s never done alone, or with anyone.

So she was there, in that morning in the middle of April, lonely in that field of flowers.

The poor girl never thought of herself as mean; she always sat quietly, and though of herself as “the quiet girl.” She never complained about anything nor does she have those tantrums she hears other parents complain about.

'Maybe I look ugly or scary like those monsters in some of my dreams,’ she thought ‘maybe they’re afraid or terrified to be with me’; but then again she’d think to herself: she’s always dress nicely, she’d always let her mother comb her hair even if it’s a pain sometimes and she was far better compared to those horrid images she’d have in the back of her mind.

The little girl never knew the reason why she was such an outcast to the other children in the distance.

More likely, she was far too young to understand.

“You’re special” as her parents liked to put it, “you’re quite different from the other kids sweetie; unique, in fact”

“What’s a ‘yoo-nik’ mommy?’ She’d ask, “What is it?”

“It’s not an ‘it’ sweetie, it’s something or someone that’s… different and special at the same time, just like you.’

“Why do I have to be so yoo-nik? I don’t wanna be yoo-nick it’s so unfair!”

Truly, she was far too young to understand.

But now she was beginning to question if her gift was the reason why no one would ever play with her; and not just the other children, but sometimes even her own parents.

Which, sadly, is the real reason why anyone wouldn’t go near her.

Her gift made her see things that wasn’t there: lights in people’s eyes that no one else could see. Feelings she’d get a share of if she’d ever touch someone who was brave enough to come close.

So there she was in the middle of April, sitting alone in the grass, fiddling with a small white flower between her dainty little fingers, spending her day like she did yesterday and the day before that; completely isolated in the clearing of the meadow.

Out of nowhere a small boy about her age swiped the flower behind her back.

“You shouldn’t just pick these you know,” he said in a cheery voice, “flowers have feelings too!”

The little girl shared a smile with someone else for the first time in years.

“You sound really gay,” the girl innocently said, covering her lips in attempt to hide her giggles.

The small boy just returned her smile. He took a seat next to her and handed her back the small daffodil which she, began twirling again.

"On the other hand," the boy said as he picked two or more flowers of the same kind, “here’s a pretty good reason why I picked these too;” the boy tinkered with the flower’s stems, hiding it to the little girl who wanted to see what he was really doing.

“Hold out your hand” he said after a few moments.

With a puzzled look, the girl questionably pulled out her hand, her palm right in their view.

With one hand, the boy turned her hand over so that the girl’s palm is facing down and with the other hand, he pulled out a bracelet from his back and slipped it into her hand, which made the little girl let out a small gasp.

“I love it!” she said with her widest smile.

It was a simple white bracelet, made out of the small flowers she had just picked up from the ground. It was simple, yet enough to make her stare at it in wonder, taking her time as she did just so.

“My name’s Adriel by the way,” he held out his hand. “or at least that's what my friends call me,” he said with a smile

The girl pulled her gaze from her wrist to the he small boy that called himself Adriel.

“You mean we’re friends?” she asked, “you’re not scared of me?”

“Why would I be scared at you?”

The girl looked down. “I don’t know.”

There was silence.

The boy looked at her and saw that she was a few inches from crying, her eyes watering like clear glass.

“Well, if it matters that much, I’m not scared of you”

The girl looked back up at the boy’s smile, as if the gesture was to comfort her. For a moment she was there, she thought that someone cared. No one ever did—except, for the first time in years, she found someone that actually did.

“You’re not scared?”

“Why would I be?” he gave her a small pat on the back as if it were a man that he was speaking to, “you look really pretty, no one’s ever gonna think you’re scary”

Pretty. The first compliment she heard from anyone. Pale-face, Weirdo… Ugly, now that’s what she usually heard.

The boy noticed that she was having one of those about-to-cry fits so he stood up and held out his hand.

“You really shouldn’t cry, it makes your face splotchy”

The girl looked at the boy’s hand and silently asked him where they were going.

She took his hand anyway and stood up, but before she got and an answer to her unvoiced question, the boy gently pulled at her hand and led her to a place that she would have to figure out herself.

After minutes of walking, she was brought in front of a huge oak tree she was too scared to approach. She thought it was too huge, dark and looming compared to her small, petite figure.

The boy let go of her hand and raised his hands in the air. “We’re here!” he screamed, in a common habit that most children would have.

The boy circled the tree out of the little girl’s view. She stayed there in the spot where he’d left her and weighed her options whether or not she should follow him or not. She took it on herself to just follow the boy to a rope ladder leading up high on the strong branches of the trees and into a small wooden house, with the boy as he propped his legs in between the high railings to keep him from falling.

She slightly wrestled with her skirt to sit beside him, looking over the view of Massachusetts as the afternoon sun sat above it all, a cool breeze that cascaded with her hair to keep everyone from getting too hot.

Together they sat there along the hours, the boy showing the little girl the little wonders of the day that simply was overlooked by everyone else.

But to the boy, nothing really beats the treasure that he found himself in that very meadow, the person sitting beside him, one that he was sure to value forever; in which, the girl too, feels for the very first time.

In each other, they found the greatest treasure known to man;

…a friend.