I'm Not Okay {FIN & EDITING}

{8} Dead Flower

Note: The picture on the right is what Zayden drew. I found it on Google so don't give me credit! I think this is a lovely dead flower and I'm kinda sure this is a sunflower but I wasn't too sure.

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I opened the door and walked into the living room to find my dad was watching TV, and I could hear music blasting from Eden's room. Sometimes I wondered why my dad let Eden do stuff when it annoyed him. I shook my head and screamed over the music. "Hi, dad!"

Dad didn't turn his head or responded. I sighed loudly and walked upstairs to Eden's room. I bang on his door. "Eden! Turn the music down!"

The music got louder, and I was getting angry. I bang on the door harder, and to add how much pissed I am, I kicked the door but not enough to break the door. The music stopped, and the door opened, showing a furious Eden. I took a step back and frowned at him.

"What do you want?" He snapped.

"Turn the fucking music down! Are you going to make our ears bleed?" I screamed.

He glared at me and slammed the door shut. Sometimes all I wanted in life was punching the shit out of that kid, but then I always remember that he's my little brother and that I'll be the one who has to fix his face back, so I always forget about that idea. I huffed and walked into my room, which was next to Eden's. The music didn't come back on, and I was glad it didn't. I threw my bag on the floor and jumped on my bed. I closed my eyes and thought about Rhett.

His light brown hair soft and in a fresh hairstyle. His dark brown eyes full of nervousness, kindness, and a warm feeling, but something else I couldn't catch. Then his smile; his smile is friendly, gentle, and his lips were kind of small, but so are mine. I wonder how they'd feel...

I snapped my eyes when I thought about that. I can't think about his lips, or his looks, or how friendly he is.

I didn't want to be his friend. I quickly grabbed the sketch pad that my therapist gave me, and when I was going to draw, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I should concentrate on the way I felt like my doctor has told me. First, I was mad at Eden, and then I felt giddy, then disgusted. I opened my eyes and started to draw the first thing I felt.

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I groaned angrily and ripped the paper, crippled it to a ball, and threw it on the floor. That was the 20th time I try to draw something, and all I got was just lines. I thought of something that my mother like because if I bring something that my mom likes, she'd be happy. But At the same time, I had to draw something about my feelings. I frowned and looked around my room.

I had a dead flower near my window, which I was supposed to take care of it but school was killing me, and I didn't have any time to share with her, so it just died. The dead flower looked sad and fragile, and that was how I felt. I turned my body to my window and started to draw the dead flower.

There was a knock on my door, and I didn't want anyone to bother me. I ignored the knocks and tried to finish the dead flower.

There was another knock. I groaned and said, "What do you want?"

"It's me." I snapped my neck to the door and quickly jumped off my bed and opened the door.

My mom had her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face, "I've been calling you that dinner is ready!" My mom retorted.

I didn't like making my mom angry because it broke my heart. "I'm sorry," I said and looked at my room.

"What have you've been doing here? Why are papers on the floor?" She didn't let me answer when she pushed passed me gently and started picking up the paper balls and uncurling them. I closed my door and sat on my bed, face away from my mom.

"Are you trying to draw?" She asked. I nodded my head and continue drawing my dead flower. With the corner of my eye, I saw my mom still looking at my drawings, and when she was done, she sat next to me and gasped. I looked up, and she had her mouth open.

"If you don't close your mouth, a fly will go in there," I said, frowning a little bit.

She playfully glared at me and pumped her shoulder on mine. I rolled my eyes and chuckled a little bit.

"I never thought you would draw something, even a flower," my mom said.

"Me neither, but my therapist said I need to express my feelings, so she gave me a sketch pad, and she told me to draw something how I feel," I said and looked at the dead flower.

"So, are you depressed?"

I looked up, and she had sadness in her eyes. "I don't know. I thought about you, and I remembered you love flowers, so I drew this, but then I remembered my therapist said I have to draw something I feel. I didn't want to draw a happy flower because I'm not happy."

"Why are you unhappy?"

I sighed and flicked my hair out of my eyes. "I don't know, but at least I drew something, right?" I said, frowning a little bit.

"You need to smile more, honey. It makes you beautiful. Turn that frown upside down!"

When she acts childish, it made me want to smile, but I couldn't. I felt my lips twitch, and she smiled. "That's close enough." She kissed me on the forehead and got up. "I'll let you continue drawing your dead flower. I want to see it before you leave for school, okay?"

I nodded my head. She laughed and closed the door. I thought back to what my mom said. If I put a smile on my dead flower, would it make it beautiful?