Daisies //m.c

Budding Daises: part two

Even if few thoughts entered my mind I couldn't get past them, as if they where unraveling my feelings. The coldness had number my toes and fingers from the weather. I couldn't take my car because I only had enough gas to go get between Michelle's and mine. I knew where'd she be of course, the park. As small children we'd play on the swings and play hide & seek and we still are. Maybe if it wasn't for this park I wouldn't have met Ashton, of course being the fool I was not realizing he was Michelle's flipping brother. It was the polar opposite of today, the sun shined like it should have in summer.

I was finally approaching the park when I could feel the slight trickle of rain sliding down my cheeks mixed with some lost tears. It is unnervingly cold but, not enough for snow. My boots trudged down the sidewalk, occasionally stopping under a tree for some form of relief form the now pouring rain. My head was pounding and I could feel its hot temperature radiate. My view became blurred, probably from the glasses getting wet or my headache. Then I saw it, her. Sitting on a swing I could see her figure slowly rock back and forth.

"Michelle!" I shouted as loudly as I could but, it only came out as a weak whimper before my legs gave out and I didn't have the strength to pick myself up. I laid on the dirty plastic ground until I felt my vision go out and I let myself slip into a comfortable darkness.

I felt myself falling. I knew it was a dream but, the sheer thought flew me across a room. I opened my eyes as quickly as possible and sat up. I let go of the plaid covers of top of me when I realized my fists where almost white. I looked around the small room I didn't seem familiar to. My head hurt like hell even more when I tried to remember what happened.

I glanced at the night stand to see a note. My hands grabbed the tiny paper and a pair of old glasses with something inscribed into them. I squinted until I realized they weren't words but, perfectly drawn flowers. I rested the glasses on the bridge of my nose. My vision became clearer, even more than with my regular glasses. I opened the letter to read;

"Out to the pharmacy to fix your glasses and some. Make yourself comfy. See you in a couple. Xx"

I refolded the crumbled piece of paper and held it near my heart and a sense of relief washed even the crevices of my soul. I let go of the paper and placed it back on the table when I realized there had been daisies on top of the letter that had spilled every where on the nightstand like a Houdini table trick gone wrong. I complied them into my hand and scolded myself for being so clumsy. My hands moved swiftly, placing the 19 fragile flowers if I had counted correctly, into a perfect line. My mouth slightly curved into a small smile.

I heard a door slam making jump a bit. The door slung open and my body pushed under the covers. My eyes scanned the figure standing in the doorway. The first thing I noticed about him was his hair, it seemed so out of place, abstract, and I just loved it. Maybe I became attracted to the colour because it was something the old me would have adored, the child who loved to be different unpolished by the world instead of the teenager who'd do anything to fit in. He looked like a scene boy with the hair he dyed too much from the smell of dye in the hair.

"Hello."He pulled the word out slowly as if singing it but, he didn't seem to be the one to sing, I imagined him playing the drums or guitar. I'm betting drums.

He barley stuffed his keys in tight skinny jeans while, juggling his apparently heavy plastic bag with a familiar brand on it's side.

"Hi." My voice was raspy and I could feel like my throat was drier than a desert. He suddenly dropped his bags and looked toward me with his sea glass eyes with a scared expression. Possibly he muttered a few curse words but, my mind was cluttered.

"Are you okay? here let me pick those-" I crawled out of the stale bed and before I could even pick up the bag he dropped only seconds earlier, he lightly grabbed my wrist and pushed his hand up to my forehead. His hand moved but, somehow it blurred like streaking liquid across the mirror.