ELEANOR RIGBY ━ lily evans. ( ✔️)

𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔩𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔰.

[ CHAPTER I : WHITE LILIES. ]

The rain fell from the sky, hitting her with the force and pain of bullets from a gun, her tears falling with the drops of water. It all felt surreal like it was all some cruel dream. Though the pain that surged through her with each raindrop that hit her disproved that, along with the pedestrians that surrounded her and their mumbled curses.

She didn't know where to go, so all she did was stand in the middle of the dreary gray pavement. She hadn't expected this day to come this shortly (though she should've, seeing as even though the war was over, there were still some of his faithful followers running around, as she had come to realize).

The letter in her hand was as drenched as her dense red hair. On the paper read the words she never wanted to hear, the words she knew would hurt more than anything. Suddenly she crumpled it up, though it barely stayed together due to the state it was in. Her feet hit the cement with extreme force as she made her way towards the trash can that sat only a few meters away. She was quick to discard it, but her eyes didn't leave the trash can for a moment.

The question she had held back finally came into her mind.
What was she going to do?

There was nowhere to go. No one to see. All their lives had been ripped from them brutally, their souls nothing but a void of emptiness. They no longer had the livelihood they once held, their soft yet sharp features molded into ones of stoic grief. They were nothing but things lost to nature, returned when their minds had finally broken. Breathing or not- her friends were nothing more. They were specks of nothing in the universe anymore, like grains of sand or a blade of grass. Dead grass, her lover was now. Cold weather breaking down the one she loved, bad luck coursing through the meadow they were once in. 

Then it came to her. Flowers. She was to buy flowers. She knew where she was, it wasn't as if she was lost. And if she was correct, the flower shop she hadn't visited in years wasn't too far away. She didn't particularly like the memories that flooded back to her when she thought of the place. Most of them were of her sister, Petunia, and though they weren't inherently bad, it brought her pain to think of her sister whom she hadn't seen in years.

She was quick to begin walking, desperate to get inside after she realized how cold she was. Her eyes darted through the streets. It had been years since she last roamed these streets. Those were more joyful times for her, much more joyful times. Those were the perils of growing up as she had come to learn. Even when she was younger she knew this, but her younger self didn't expect her future to be this unfortunate.

Before she was able to process it, she had arrived at her destination. In an attempt to straighten herself out, she settled her coat and fixed her hair, though it was in vain as the harsh wind messed up her efforts. She reached to open the store, and pulled the door open.

The store hadn't changed in the least. The same black and white checkered flooring lay under her feet, more scratched and muddy then the last time she had been in the shop. She same faux wood wallpaper decorated the walls, adding a slightly earthy element to the shop. It brought a small sense of comfort to her, though it was quickly erased by the reminder of why she was there.

She hastily approached the counter where an older woman sat, her name tag reading Helen, clearly more interested in the thick book she was holding rather than the girl in front of her who cleared her throat, finally gaining the attention of the woman in the green uniform.

"H-Hello," she quickly winced at how rough her voice sounded, but the woman in front of her didn't seem to notice.

"Hello, there sweetheart. How can I help you today?"

"Uhm," the redhead gulped nervously, "w-what flowers would I bring to a grave?"

Upon hearing those words, Helen's face softened with sympathy. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I'm really sorry about that."

"Thank you."

"Here, follow me." the woman quickly left from behind the counter, beckoning for the customer to follow her. The redhead was hot on her tail as they approached the back of the shop. There lay an array of bouquets, all of them having a solemn aura surrounding them. Her green eyes assessed the bunches of flowers, before settling on a certain one that lay before her. Lilies. She found it slightly ironic that her name matched the flowers she was giving to her dead lover. Maybe it didn't send the message she wanted. 

She bought them anyway.

After purchasing them, Helen offered her a pen to write on the tag that was tied to the black ribbon which held the bunch of flowers together.

The deep blue ink flowed from the tip of the pen, she wrote what might have been the last thing the said to the woman. And as she signed off on the small letter, she signed off with her name.

Lily Evans.

And then she was walking down the streets again.

•••

"all the lonely people.
where do they all come from?"

926 words. unedited.