Flowers // m.h

0.

The sun was far too bright, and she looked like a wilted flower. 

She, being the girl in the garden next door to Matty Healy's, was lying on the grass, sheltered by a small cherry tree that had only just gone out of bloom. Her shoulder length hair was pulled up into a pony tail and she was wearing round black sunglasses to cover her tired eyes.

Had he listened to his parents more often, he might have known a bit more about her other than the fact that she had lived in the pokey red brick house next to his for about six months now. He'd noticed her a few times, the window in her bedroom faced his, but his curtains were usually closed during the day, which said a lot about him. But never had he paid so much attention to her. 

Beatrice, that was her name. He had heard it before, usually when her mum shouted to her. 

"Beatrice, calm down!" He'd heard through the walls on multiple occasions. There was something up with them, Beatrice and her mum, that was and a small, invasive part of his being longed to know what it was.