Dead Flower (Sequel to The Flower Girl) (Completed)

Chapter 8: Hottie

We all encounter struggles. For some it's addiction, porn, drugs, sex, alcohol, their phone. Then there are people who have faced trauma, whether sexual, physical, emotional, verbal abuse. Struggles with mental health are often looked down upon. Not by all, but when was the last time anyone wanted to hear someone else's struggle? It's as if there's not enough time in the world.

People are always focused on their own struggles. Open books share more of their story because they're no longer ashamed. Where others hide, because they're afraid of discernment. Yet everyone goes through something, we could be missing opportunities of collaborated experiences. That's how people bond. Respect is gained through the struggles we face. The only judgement we should be afraid of, is that of our own. We are the ones to deal with the bitterness in our minds. Once you let it succeed, you become what you think.

Even though I tell myself it's okay. There will always be that little voice crying inside. That tries to bring me down. Used, dirty, alone, it was my fault, ugly, worthless. I tell those thoughts to shut the fuck up. Right now, I'm telling all my other irrelevant thoughts to do the same; as I drive Flower to collect Tyler and Aubrey.

"Are you excited to pick strawberries with Tyler, baby?"

Catching her pretty, green eyes stare out the window prior to looking at me, she licks her lips. Salivating over the idea of that fruity taste, "Yes!"

After motherly vigilance, I spot Flower picking her nose. "Flower Erica Reed! What did daddy and I say about picking noses?"

She begins to wipe her grubby fingernails on her shirt. Bashfully answering, "It's dirty."

As soon as we come to a halt in Aubrey's driveway, I hand her the hand sanitizer. "You cannot do that Flower. Especially since we are picking strawberries. We don't want to spread germs on food that we will consume. Or anywhere else for that matter."

Me: Here :)

Patiently waiting for her, I retrieve the sanitizer from Flower. Once I put the gel back in the glove box, out walks Aubrey, with Tyler in hand. I thought I looked good, but she knocks me out of the ball park. Maybe even more so. The breath I was planning to release, is caught in my larynx. Choking, I'm stunned when our eyes meet. Her icy blues are intimidating. Chocolate brown hair flares red when hit with the sun.

Earrings dangle from each lobe, something of silver. A two piece dress that represents the golden palm tree fireworks I adored as a kid; that sprinkle down with gray dust behind the spotlight of beauty. She sparkles stunningly so.

Please tell me this woman is not single. She's drop dead gorgeous. Any man would be lucky to have her. My insecurities come to revisit. Eating away at my brain, telling me everything I'm not. Also, everything I am.

Hotter than you. Curvier than you. Andrew deserves better. He'll realize it soon, that he can do better than you.

Shut the fuck up!