Faded Daisies

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When love can be one of the most painful things too.

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Hanahaki Disease is a fictional disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when the beloved returns their feelings (romantic love only; strong friendship is not enough), or when the victim dies. It can be cured through surgical removal, but when the infection is removed, the victim's romantic feelings for their love also disappear.

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She sees white and crimson red. 

White, how … ironic. 

Jennie hears her own hallowed laugh ring out, bouncing off the walls, making her wince as it swirled with the cigarette smoke suspended in the air. She hated cigarettes, hated the aftertaste that burned her throat so much, making her cough after every drag. She liked how it felt though, velvety and smooth as it coursed through her, making the shaking stop. Making her breathe in soft, deep breaths that filled her with a calm she can’t seem to find on her own.

Jennie looks at the sink and sees stark, utter whiteness, dark red seeping, spreading out slowly until they fall, a washed out scarlet. 

Petals…

White… blood soiled petals. 

Jennie takes another shaky drag, and runs her fingers through her hair. 

She knew what this was, heard it being talked about when she was young. Whispers among adults that were not meant for her uncomprehending ears. Cause when you’re young, you’re curious, right?

“I heard about what happened to him, the poor soul. Who would’ve thought someone so young would die from something so ...tragic?”

Jennie was seven then, and barely understood everything that happened around her, but that never stopped her from finding out answers to all the silly questions that ran in her head. 

“No one else to blame but him, he knew what he was getting into. A simple surgery would’ve done the trick.” 

She could hear the annoyance in her father’s voice as he continued to skim through the paper, not even bothering to look up.

“Well… I think it’s… tragically beautiful. To die for something as noble as love, for standing up for what you want...” Jennie saw her mother look away, something subtle. A wistful smile on her face. 

“He’s stupid.”

“What?”

“He’s stupid. For choosing to die. For choosing to die for something as inconceivable a thought as love, something as fleeting... stupid, he’s plain stupid.”

Jennie feels the burn again, right in the center where her heart should be. Feels it squeeze, choking her. She takes another drag, hoping it would mask the metallic taste that filled her mouth. Anything...anything to take the taste of blood away. She feels the petals push their way, from her heart to her mouth. Tasted the sweetness of the flowers mix with the sharp taste of blood and she coughs it out. Sees them fill the sink, the sweet scent making her nauseous. She makes herself believe it was the smoke, but she knew… would always knew it was the flowers. 

White…. And red. 

She hates the combination.

Hates what it meant. 

Jenlisa Drabbles Where stories live. Discover now