[Tara]
I roamed the hospital gift shop, the green blanket still wrapped around me tightly. I never understood why a gift shop would be in a hospital. Let's just buy our loved ones chocolate that they can't eat because they're too sick or flowers that will eventually die. Like them. We're all made to die. I never thought that we were born to exist. We all just count the days until our last, and at that point does it really matter?
The petals of flowers wilt. They fall off. Disappear. I decided to choose the flowers that were already dead. The petals were flaking and it's colours were drained. Those petals were once full of life, full of light. But all that was left was darkness. A decaying life. I walked to the counter, the dead flowers in my hands.
"Are you sure you want those?" The cashier said. Her hair was toppled high on her head and her wrinkles expanded on her forehead.
"Positive." I didn't need her questioning me. I didn't need anyone questioning me. These flowers were me. Not dead, but dying.
"Just take them for free. They're not worth a penny" Her words stung. I wasn't worth a thing either I suppose.
Quinn was on floor C, room 13. Before making my way up there, I wandered floor B. The floor of urgent care. The floor was intoxicated with crying families and the scent of blood and illness. I took a seat in a plastic blue chair next to a young man. His hands were buried in his hands. A doctor walked slowly to him, her eyes empty.
"Sir, your daughter has passed away. We couldn't save her. I'm very sorry for your loss." It was as if she were used to saying this. It didn't matter to her. A father's whole world had just been taken from him and all she could say was i'm sorry for your loss. As if sorry could make up all the memories they had together. Never again would he kiss his little girl goodnight or drive her to school. She was gone. Just like that.
The young man had nothing to say. There was nothing to be done but sit in silence and imagine life without his one true love. I pulled out a rose from my bouquet of dead flowers. It's petals were dry all except one. It had a stain of red. Part of it was still alive.
"Your daughter may be dead, but she's not gone." I whispered gently to the tear stricken man and handed him the flower. He held it to his chest. Both our eyes filled with tears.
They rolled down my cheeks as I walked up the stairs, away from Floor B. I was now on Floor C, the floor of stable patients. Hopefully the people that would be able to go home to their families. They were the lucky ones.
Quinn was there in room 13, her face stitched up from glass. She would be alright. I handed her the bouquet of dead flowers, no words exchanged. Her, Dally, and Johnny stared at me as I pulled a stool up to the open window. I sat down and held a dead rose to my chest. There was nothing left of it but it's decaying body.
I was the rose.