twenty-six | shame

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—November 11th

November 20th was nine days away. Michael's birthday was nine days away. It was the day he was going to turn 21. At that age you could do hundreds of things, you could legally drink in America, get a pilot's license in England, and even gamble in Iowa. And when Michael thought of turning 21, he imagined Las Vegas, hotel suites, clubbing, and maybe even some gambling. He had this perfect image in his head of what his 21st birthday was going to look like. But when he looked back on it now, he realized he was too naive.

Because look at him now, sitting on the edge of a hospital bed, squeezing his best friend's hand as he talked about his day. How he spent time with "Riley", how he made himself some pancakes for breakfast, and how he couldn't wait for Luke to recover. But in the back of his head, Michael was scared of the thought of Luke recovering. Of course he wanted him to see again, he took no pleasure at seeing his friend lay on a hospital bed. However, he deeply feared the thought of Luke coming back to a dead girlfriend, a torn apart group of friends, and the terrible realization that he had been lied to for months.

"Hey Michael," Luke said.

"Yeah?"

"I had a dream the other day."

"Really? What kind of dream?" The lavender haired boy asked with a look of curiosity.

"It was about Riley." Michael swallowed hard when his friend said this. "She mentioned something... About forgetting."

"Oh?" He said, feigning surprise. 

"Yeah. In the beginning she was happy and I was with her, but then everything changed." Luke nibbled on his lip as he recalled the nightmarish dream. "Then, we were on a street. At night. Bright headlights and rushing cars." Luke could feel Michael releasing his grip on his hand as he spoke. "And she kept telling me, screaming at me. Saying that I need to remember something."

"Oh. Weird," Michael said blankly.

"Do you have any idea what she was talking about?" The skinny, blonde boy asked, his blue eyes full of wonder. And Michael hated how full of wonder Luke's eyes were, because it made it harder for him to lie to him. But he always fibbed to him in the end.

"No idea," Michael stated. "No idea at all."

"Oh, alright," his blue eyes now dull with disappointment. "I'm probably just overthinking it. Right?"

"Don't worry about it Luke, it was just a dream," the guilty boy said reassuringly. "A strangely realistic dream."

"Yeah. You're right. Thanks Michael, you always know what to say." And then Luke smiled at him, a smile that pierced Michael's heart and stung him with shame.

"No problem Luke. I'm always here for you." Lying and deceiving, but still always there.

As this solemn scene was unfolding in the dreary room, across town another, equally as solemn, maybe even more solemn scene was occurring.

In room 215, of Motel 91, there could be snipping noises heard through the thin walls. On the other side, Rowan could be heard with an old pair safety scissors cutting away at the stems of a bundle of daisies, occasionally cursing at her poor equipment and lack of strength. 

They were the cheap kind of daisies, the kind that the store had left out for a day or three and had to mark the price down due their lack of freshness, and they were difficult to trim to the right length for her vase, but they were all she needed to express her feelings. Her feelings of regret, shame, and disappointment; these flowers held them all.

Drew loved daisies, he would never admit it because he thought he was too "manly" to say such a thing, but Rowan saw how he looked at them whenever they passed by a flower shop, how he would always snap a picture in secret when she turned around. She didn't quite know why he loved daisies, but at the same time, daisies suited Drew. She read in a book that daisies were flowers that represented innocence and purity. Drew was neither innocent or pure in the physical manner, but in her head, Rowan knew that he was a child at heart.

Daisies were also composite flowers, meaning that they were actually two flowers combined into one. Which Rowan thought fit him perfectly. His two sides, youthful and childish, and mature and strong, combined together to form the person he was. And because the two flowers blended so well, they were also known to show true love.

The perfect mesh, the meant to be; that was what Rowan thought of when she imagined true love. And ever since she met Drew Kerrington, she thought he was her true love. Her other half, her one and only.

But now, he was gone. Her idealistic idea of love had faded with his death. And now she was stuck in a fake love with a boy she was unsure she could ever grow to adore. Because in her heart, no one could fill the hole left by her first love.

That didn't mean she wouldn't try though. She was going to take advantage of this fake romance and see if the blind boy she met only once, could be the solution to her empty space. He didn't deserve the consequences of her broken heart; he didn't deserve to be used. But Rowan couldn't help it, she was but a knot in a string of bad decisions and she had chosen to drag Luke Hemmings down with her.

She knew she would regret this and she knew she would be the one crying and pleading for forgiveness in the end. But she didn't think twice about it.

The short haired girl took the newly cut daisies and clutched them tightly in her hand with conviction. For Drew, she loved, for him she pained, and for him, she would self-destruct.

-

a/n: hope you're having a great 2019

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xx

echo // hemmings [completed]Wo Geschichten leben. Entdecke jetzt