Work Text:
It took me a while to realise
Not every ending is a happy one
And we were never destined to be one
Deep in the meadows
Under the willow
She swung high on the swing. Her feet kicked dust-up from the ground. Her eyes were sparkling with joy. She closed them, serenity making her features ethereal, hair whipping around her face. The willow hung down around her as if guarding her innocence from the world. Maybe it had fallen in love with her too.
A ray of sunshine fell through the branches and cut right into his eyes. He squinted; looked up from his musings at the willow; wondered what the willow thought of him.
Probably thought him a fool for wanting all that he couldn't have. Strangely enough, though, he found himself temporarily okay with the thought. The willow could think all it wanted of him. For now, he felt at peace. Alive. Present.
"Bee!" He snapped to attention at her voice; found her standing right in front of him. She laughed, probably at him. He couldn't find it in himself to be indignant. His heart leaped in joy at the carefree happiness on her face.
"We should get back. We've been here far too long."
She took his hand. He let himself be led. He turned his head to look back once more at the willow. Instead, a dash of black caught his attention. Growing inconspicuously, just by the moving swing, were a batch of flowers withering away in the late spring air.
Like an ominous sign, blackened roses peeked out at him from the grass.
She tugged on his arm, propelling him forward.
They were gone by the time he looked back again.
The black rose symbolizes rebirth into a changed life or state of mind.
A bed of grass
A soft green pillow
He lay beside her on the grass. It was coarse and rough but she couldn't bring herself to care.
It felt like a safe haven. With wild grasses shrouding them from prying eyes.
It felt like another world.
There was a soft smile on his face, a beatific pain in it. She wondered. They hadn't spoken the entire way here. She wondered what he was thinking. Suddenly, he rolled over onto his elbows, his face right above hers. His head cocked slightly to the side. Something warm splashed against her cheek at the movement.
She lifted her hand and carded it through his hair. He shuddered beneath her hand. She opened her arms letting him collapse on her like a ship sinking; a star falling.
They lay against the grass, silver moonlight illuminating their figures, with him trembling with silent gasps in her arms. A pair of heleniums swayed slightly in the wind beside them.
She wondered about the pain in his sobs and wondered what had caused it.
Heleniums symbolizes tenderness and tears.
Lay down your head
And close your sleepy eyes
She was clinging to him with a vice-like grip. A tiny girl of eight and yet she had the strength of an ox in her limbs. Her eyes, devastatingly wet and pleading, were locked into his. They held betrayal in them. Betrayal and pain. Pain and desperation. Desperation and fear.
Him, ten, and being pulled in two directions already.
He shook their caretaker off roughly and then leveled her with his most reproachful eyes when instead of backing off, she just made to pick up his best friend. He hugged her to his chest tightly as she sniveled and sniffed against his shirt.
He raised three fingers. Reluctantly, their caretaker nodded with a scowl on her face. Slowly, in a low soothing whisper, he spoke into his tiny best friends ear,
"It'll be fine Bunnie. Everything is alright. I won't go with them. And if they take me away, then I'll find a way to come back okay?"
When no affirming answer came, he jostled her slightly. A tiny giggle broke out through the loud sobs. Despite the eye roll he indulged in, a fond smile spread on his lips. Such a drama queen. Their caretaker coughed pointedly.
He let his Bunnie go, watched the door shut on her downfallen face, and felt his heart squeeze at her expression.
That day, the grown-ups left with disappointment on their faces. No one wanted a kid who was too uncontrollable. Too wild. Too explosive.
That night, he climbed into Bunnie's bed, his body hurting from the blows rendered on it as a punishment for his bad behavior. She was wide awake, waiting for him, with an army of stolen bandaids sitting near her. She worked silently on his bruises even though he knew the band-aids would do nothing. He wondered if she knew. He wondered if she would still do it, run her fingers tenderly over his bruises, kiss the band-aid and paste it on clumsily if she knew.
He wondered why she always cried even though she knew he would stay. He wondered if she feared that one day he would leave if she didn't show him how much she needed him. He wondered if she knew he needed her twice as much as she needed him.
He lay down beside her on the pillow and closed her tear-crusted eyes with a soft stroke of his palm.
He removed the band-aids in the morning. The bruises had bloomed overnight. They were the colour of purple lilacs.
Purple lilacs represent the beginning of love or a first love.
For then again in morning
The sun will rise
"You always drag me with you to see the sunrise but you never come in time to see the sunset with me."
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes. He was grumbling and had been doing so for the past 5 minutes, but his eyes- his eyes were fixed fast on the beginning of the sky, where it blended into the gray of the buildings below.
She smiled.
"Your sunsets make me sad."
He glanced at her before fixing his eyes back on the sky. A small smile tilted his lips.
She wondered if her smile was as sad as his.
"Your sunrises make me sad too."
His voice was rough. It was falling, deepening as he grew older. His cheeks had sharpened. His baby fat, gone. His eyes were more intense, often hiding a tinge of sadness in them. He looked tired, with bags under his eyes. He was beautiful though. He had always been beautiful to her.
She wondered if the smiles he gave her were the only times he smiled.
As she watched the dawn illuminate his face, an inexplicable fear washed over her, freezing her insides. She reached over, grabbed his hand in hers. Scooted closer and rested her head on his shoulder. She felt his cheek shift against her hair, felt the dread curl inside her, squeezing her heart.
The sun rose higher, a pale cold yellow.
"...Bee?"
"Hmm?"
"I don't think I'll go to college."
His face shifted, displacing her hair. When he spoke, his voice was tight.
"You won't go with me?"
"No. No. I will, of course I will. I just won't go to college. I'll help you get your degree and then you can become a badass doctor and I'll do a writing job or something."
She could almost feel his frown on her head.
Before he could say anything though, she carried on,
"I don't have big dreams, Bee. Not like you. My dreams, they're smaller. Not any less important of course. Just smaller. I wanna learn how to ice skate with you. Go to an art museum, watch a movie. That's my dream. And it's only possible if one of us gets a degree and a good job. We don't have enough money for two degrees. And being a doctor is a lot more practical than pursuing music."
A gust of air blew over her hair. He exhaled slowly against her hair and breathed her in- he spoke,
"But you love music."
She closed her eyes, felt inside herself for some discord. Some rebellion. She only met acceptance. And excitement. For a future she was trying not to dream too much about.
That fear rose up again like a slumbering viper awakened. She tamped it down. Tried to, at least.
"I love you more. And you can buy me a guitar or a piano as a gift to compensate, and we'll write some music together."
They sat in silence for a while.
Then,
"...Bee?"
"Hmm?"
"Let's dance in the sunset today."
He stilled above her.
"The sunset...? But sunsets make you sad don't they?"
"They do. But it's okay. You'll be there to chase the sadness away, right?"
"...Of course…."
"Always."
______________________________
That sunset they twirled around together, laughing and tripping, until the stars came out to laugh with them. The fear was gone now, replaced by a bubbling happiness that spun them around and around until they were breathless with it. His eyes were a beautiful blue, the colour of Salvia, alive with mirth.
Tired, with residual laughter still tingling on their lips, they collapsed on the roof floor. From below, the shouts and energetic screams of the other children filtered up to them. If they didn't go down now, they would get punished.
Bee turned to her, a silent question in his eyes.
No, not yet. Just a few more minutes.
Not yet.
Their hands found each other.
They lay there until the sun came up again.
The Blue Salvia plant is connected to healing. This flower represents a long life and good health.
Here it's safe,
here it's warm
Their new caretaker, Angie, hugged him tight as he stood there, numb; in shock. The doctor stared at the back of his head; empathy rolling off him in nauseating waves.
His medical certificate fluttered to the ground. Words echoed emptily in his brain, sentences, phrases. A white noise filled up inside him, like a connection cut off, a wire cut away.
How fitting that something inside him was wrong.
Perhaps he would laugh if he knew. His schoolmaster. The one who told him delinquents like him were better off dead than polluting the world. Seems he had gotten his wish.
He wondered if his life would chip away slowly until there was nothing left of it to corrode away; or if it would end suddenly, like the snip of a cord, the end of a heartbeat.
___________________________
Slowly, he dragged his heavy, lifeless body up the rungs. She was sleeping peacefully, not a crease on her forehead.
He wondered how she would react to his death. Would she be able to cope with his loss? Would she be able to move on? Would she be able to watch her beloved sunrises alone? Would she ever be able to see a sunset again?
Her eyes shifted. She opened them. Under candlelight, they looked red, with shadows dancing below them in a rosy golden glow that made the red drip down her eyes.
"Hi."
She whispered. Silently she scooted back in invitation.
"Hi."
He climbed up slowly, lethargically. He wondered if it had already started. The beginning of the end.
She was almost asleep when he spoke again.
"I'm scared."
Those red eyes opened again.
"Did you have a bad dream?"
He wondered. To know that years of life had been reduced to months. He wondered if he should cry. He wondered if he was always going to be too tired to do so.
"A nightmare."
"Oh…" She exhaled and then nudged him towards herself.
"Come on. I'll keep you safe."
"Safe and sound?"
She smiled sleepily.
"Safe and sound."
He still felt tired- too tired- but the tears leaked out by themselves, hot and burning. He wondered if they looked like blood under the candle fire.
He should tell her.
He didn't.
He couldn't.
Her eyes appeared in his dreams. The red of love-lies-bleeding leaked out from her eyes; set her on fire.
Love-lies-bleeding stands for hopeless love or hopelessness.
Here the daisies
Guard you from every harm
"Bee, we need to talk."
He ignored her. Kept fiddling with the daisies spread out in front of him.
She forced a deep breath down. Let it out slowly and then repeated her words, putting stress on each letter.
" Bee. We need to talk ."
She stood patiently for another minute, silently fuming before her patience gave out.
" Bee !"
She snatched at the flower necklace he was making and threw it to the other side of the garden. Rounded back on him to find him already stood up, the remnants of the flower necklace dangling pathetically from his fist.
His eyes were red. With anger or tears, she couldn't tell.
His jaw was bunched, words punching through his teeth when he spoke,
" What?"
Her eyes narrowed.
"Don't what me. You know exactly why I'm here! You've been avoiding me since last week! I talk to you, you run away. I look at you, you look away. I make plans with you, you cancel them later. What is going on with you?! "
His eyes sharpened.
" Nothing is wrong. And for the record, I'm not the only one pulling the disappearing act. Where exactly were you yesterday?"
She scoffed.
"Oh, finally noticed, did you? I went with Angie to the store . Feel like telling me where you went with Angie?"
Instead of replying, he stared at her for another long minute, cheeks blotchy and red with anger before he collapsed back onto the ground and started collecting the remaining daisies hidden in the grass.
Anger, like rising magma, swelled inside her again, until her gaze landed on his hands. They were trembling, slight tremors running through them as he shifted through the daisies strewn out in front of him.
Immediate concern rose inside her, sweeping away her anger, replacing it with worry. She took a step closer, watched him tense up slightly.
"Bee." She stepped even closer.
"What's happening?"
He shook his head, a slight movement, so sparse it could've just been a trick of the eyes.
That familiar fear rose up inside her; fell around her like a tidal wave.
"Bee. What aren't you telling me?!"
"It's nothing." He still didn't look at her.
"Bee." She breathed out, beseechingly, an unspoken plea in her tone.
Maybe it was the way she said it, almost begging; he deflated from his previously guarded posture, a haunting bone-deep exhaustion taking over his features.
He shook his head slightly and turned his face away. She tried to swallow down her fear.
She collapsed down next to him on the ground and picked up a few of the daisies. She struggled with them for a second before nimble fingers stopped her, plucked the daisies from her hands, and deftly tied them together. She took them back. Tied more together. When the necklace was complete, she held it up and beckoned to Bee- who'd been watching her silently- and placed it on his head.
He smiled ruefully.
"Did you know that daisies are called 'flowers of the grave'?"
She stared at him; stunned, horrified.
He got up; left her frozen on the ground. Dread curled cold and rancid in her heart.
She wondered. Wondered what he knew. Wondered what had made him play with daisies.
The ancient Celts had an interesting answer to the question of “what does a daisy represent?” Quite a bittersweet symbolism, as they believed that when a child died, the gods would sprinkle their grave with daisies to cheer up the grieving parents.
Here your dreams are sweet
And tomorrow brings them true
He was new.
A small angry boy of 6 whose parents had abandoned him on the front steps of their orphanage.
He rebelled against the nurses, against the caretakers.
He didn't follow the rules. He snuck out at night and when asked, said he was looking for his parents.
He was punished. Severely. Multiple times. But he never gave up. He still got up at night and snuck out the window and she just watched, helpless as they found him once again, punished him once again.
_________________________________
They were all sitting in the play area, drawing.
He stood in the corner, in time out, watching. Silent. Sullen.
She glanced behind her. Their caretaker's assistant was standing with her back to them.
She looked back to the boy, who was silently staring at the floor, not moving an inch. Slowly, she took a pencil off the table, and with another glance behind her, she threw the pencil in his direction.
When he looked up at her, hostility and curiosity on his face; she grinned a toothy grin at him and held up her drawing.
It was of a stick figure boy standing in a corner. Instead of a frown though, there was a huge grin on his face. His stick hands were lifted in the air as if rejoicing in something. She lifted her hands the same way and let out a quiet woo hoo, all the while grinning happily.
The boy just stared at her for a second, before he ducked his head. She'd seen it though. A smile spreading wide over his lips. She could hear his laughter too. She felt ridiculously pleased with herself. And so naturally, she spent the rest of her playtime making ridiculous, and even more ridiculous drawings just to make the boy laugh.
He had a nice laugh. Quiet. Shy. She liked making him laugh. It was like those pretty blue and white flowers that grew in their garden. Yes, she decided, she really liked his laugh.
So she called him Bee. Because he laughed like their garden flowers and they always had bees buzzing around them. He laughed at her name for him too. He laughed a lot.
Their caretaker's assistant, Angie, though, didn't think so. Angie thought he laughed too little and scowled a lot more.
She laughed at that. Angie only smiled.
_______________________________
"It just doesn't feel right. That someone would die to keep me alive."
The doctor smiled. His eyes never smiled with him though.
"The boy has Glioblastoma son. It's a rapidly developing brain tumour with no cure and treatment that can prolong his life for 15 to 16 months maximum. He's assured me he has no money to pay for treatment. He wants to donate his heart. His blood type matches yours. His tissue type is all we could ask for in this situation."
This-" he gestured to the profile of his donor-"it's a miracle. And we don't question miracles, son. We thank God for them and move on."
"I know, I just- can I meet him at least? To thank him in person?"
The doctor shook his head, that strange smile-not-smile back again.
"He's explicitly stated that he wants to remain anonymous. I'm afraid you won't be able to meet him. But if you'd like, you can write him something and I'll pass it on."
He nodded eagerly.
"I'd really like that if it's possible."
The doctor smiled. This time, it touched his eyes.
Angie hugged him as soon as they stepped outside the doctor's office. Maybe it was just him, but she had started looking older nowadays. Tired. Even though she was only thirty-six, she looked about fifty as she stepped back and wiped at her eyes.
"Why're you crying now, Angie?" He laughed softly.
"I've got a chance!"
Angie nodded, smiling and wiping at her eyes.
"I know sweetie. I'm just really happy for you. I wish you all the happiness in the world."
He smiled back at her, gentle, hopeful.
"Me too Angie. Me too."
__________________________________
It was a dense cluster of sound; a thunderclap. She woke up like lightning. Asleep one second, awake the next.
She lay in bed for a minute, soaked in the madness that shivered beneath her skin. Then she got up and stealthily crept to the door of the girl's room, slipped out, and tiptoed to the boy's room at the end of the hallway.
She opened the door. There he was. He woke up at the first shake. Almost as if he'd been expecting her. She took his hand and led him out. He followed.
The rain hadn't started falling yet. It was only distant thunder, flashes of lightning lighting up the sky. Its smell lingered, wafted, and rolled over her. Her hand tightened in his.
Then slowly, it descended.
It met her skin in tiny pinpricks of ice water; behind her, she could hear Bee laughing.
They ran.
She wondered if they should-..... But then Bee overtook her and she forgot what she was wondering and ran after him.
Her feet dipped in the ground and came up muddy and wet.
Her vision doubled and she slipped and fell; the rainwater came down as if to drown her. She welcomed it with a laugh despite the pain radiating through her head.
Bee ran back. His face cut through the water; his hair dripped down on her face. He was gasping; clutching his chest and inhaling great deep breaths. His hands shook as they searched through his pockets.
He pulled a mask out. Sat down in the streams of water around her and turned on the machine connected to it. Hacked and coughed and then looked over at her with water shimmering in his eyes.
She leveled herself up, her elbow sinking slightly into the ground.
Her worried look met a smile and an answer,
"I'm okay. You okay?"
She smiled reluctantly.
She wondered if her smile was as happy as his.
She nodded, even though it sent stabs of pain through her.
"I'm okay. Just slipped. What's that and why are you using it?"
He looked down as if surprised to see the mask there. The water thundered louder.
He maneuvered himself into a sitting position. She mirrored him.
He told her everything.
As he finished the story, she found his hand on her cheek, wiping away her silver tears. The rain had betrayed her, it seemed.
"I'm okay Bunnie. I'll be okay."
She looked at him. The stubble on his chin. The lightning that lit him up in silver. She tried to contain the pain in her chest; told herself it would be alright.
She tilted forward. He met her halfway.
They hugged, shirts clinging, half-drowned.
"Bee?"
"Hmm?"
"Can you sing me Chasing cars?"
"...Right now?"
"Is there a better time?" She gestured around herself; the chaos, the trees whipping around in the wind, the thunder raging across the sky, their soaked exteriors. She laughed. He stared at her. Smiled and opened his mouth.
We'll do it all.
Everything.
On our own.
We don't need
Anything.
Or anyone.
She joined him. Her voice mixing with his; the music of the rain as their background.
I don't quite know how to say how I feel….
If I lay here. If I just lay here. Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
"Bee?"
He broke off. Tilted closer. She nestled her face in his neck.
"Hmm?"
"Remember when you asked me what my dream was?"
"Yeah?"
"If I could choose my dream, I'd just wanna stay right next to you."
He laughed. She thought of the pretty blue and white flowers. Asters, she'd learnt later. Blue Asters, and white Asters. Shaped like stars with names like stars.
"In the rain?"
"In the rain."
___________________________________
His operation date was indefinite.
And so they did everything. Angie gave them a free pass and some money to do whatever they wanted to.
He couldn't quite believe it.
Bun said not to question good things as they come.
And so, they did everything.
They went across the city to the river; sat by the riverside and marveled over the beauty of power, as the water crashed over their feet, strong enough to sweep them away.
Right there by the river, they joined hands and spun around in the spray of the ice-cold water. Dizzy; euphoric; they tumbled about all over the place.
They went on a scavenger hunt to find different kinds of rocks; Bun found a few with blue and white lines streaking across them in pretty patterns. She said they reminded her of a flower.
They visited the willow again. This time, he found asters growing near the swing. He lay on the ground; Bunnie swinging upside down above him; her hair sweeping across his face every once in a while.
He sat on the swing himself; closed his eyes and imagined flying. Higher and higher. Through galaxies and universes. He turned around and found her staring at him; a flower clutched in her hands. Like a star; distant and unattainable; an aster glowed in her lap.
He bent down and fixed it in her hair.
She just looked; followed the path of his hands with her black eyes, and smiled.
He wondered about her smile.
They went to an amusement park; she screamed in the dragon warship. Laughed so hard she could barely breathe. Clutched her stomach; breathless and beautiful.
There was a ride there; double seats with chains connecting them to a circular dome. They sat together; he looked over at her; she looked back; she didn't smile, she didn't laugh, she just stared back. The ride swayed slightly; she tilted her forehead to rest against his; closed her eyes.
Took a deep breath, opened her eyes, pressed closer, and whispered,
"I'm ready."
It started. They spun fast and then faster, high and then higher.
She shifted her head, stared behind him; eyes lit golden from the dying sun.
A sunset awakened; hues slipping across the sky, trying to find a place to settle. The entire universe seemed to have bled out into the clouds. Her head settled against his. Her voice sounded breathless as she sang; low and slightly broken,
" With shortness of breath, I'll explain the infinite.
How rare and beautiful it is to even exist."
"Saturn."
"Hmm?"
"This song. It's name is Saturn. Fitting, isn't it?"
He smiled; soft, heart threatening to burst.
"Maybe. Maybe not."
"Oh really?" She raised an eyebrow.
"You think you can name it better?"
"Obviously." She rolled her eyes at him.
"I would call it 'An infinite sunset'."
Slowly, she smiled.
"Maybe I should write a song about that."
He smiled back.
"Maybe you should."
Her black eyes crinkled at the corners. She hummed softly. Her arms wound around him; tight. The air whipped past them; loud and joyful.
Her chin rested gently on his shoulder. Her next words shivered across his skin.
"Maybe I will. After all, infinite sunsets are better than one."
He hummed noncommittally. Let his head fall back on her shoulder.
"Maybe. But sometimes in life, one moment is better than some infinite others."
"Only if it's remembered though."
"What makes you think I'll forget this?"
"I don't."
"I just hope you'll always remember it like this."
"Like this?"
"Mhm. Like this." She tilted her neck to look down at him. Her face was lit up golden. The white aster in her hair was coloured in the hues of the sky.
Her smile though; her smile was the most brilliant of them all.
"Exactly like this."
For the rest of the ride; he couldn't bring himself to look away from her. There was something about her; something about the life burning in her eyes; that made him want to look, to see, to absorb, to keep.
For the first time; he felt the same fear Bunnie often described to him. The fear of loss. He wondered. About their future. About his tomorrow. He wondered about the seventy percent success rate of his operation. He wondered.
But then Bunnie started singing and he forgot what he was wondering.
They got back home at two in the night.
Before saying goodnight; she hugged him tightly. They stood for what seemed like forever outside his dorm door. Slowly, they swayed to unheard music.
He felt….
happy.
She told him she was the happiest she had ever been.
They kept swaying; swaying away; until the sunrise touched their wooden floors, and bathed their figures in the light of a new day; the light of tomorrow.
___________________________________
"Hey, kiddo! Wake up!"
He jerked awake. Angie was bent over him, hands shaking his shoulders. He pushed her away, still disoriented but a lot more alert.
"Wah- what's happening? Is bun okay?"
Angie paused.
"Yes, she's okay. You- on the other hand, need to get to the hospital. Your operation is happening right now."
"What? What do you mean, my operation?"
"The boy who's your donor? He collapsed this morning. He's been admitted to the hospital. They said he's brain dead and on the ventilator. You need to get there now."
Angie ushered him out of the bed and thrust some clothes into his hands. Ten minutes later they were speeding away to the hospital.
He shifted restlessly in the passenger seat.
"Bun's already there?"
"Yes dear, she's already there. She said she wanted to get something ready before your operation."
He smiled, unsure; anxiety curling in his stomach.
There was a basket waiting for him in his room.
The doctor led him in; sat him down on the bed.
Angie came in as soon as the doctor stepped out. She smiled at him; reassuring.
"You'll be fine dear."
He nodded; distracted. He looked around the room. Looked at Angie who was staring back at him with an anxious expression on her face.
"Angie, where's Bun?"
"Bun- oh yes. I think she went to get you some chocolates or something. I just called her. Said something about how we were earlier than she thought we'd be." Her laugh was hollow. He felt his heart still for a moment. Then start beating again.
She hustled forward and gestured towards the basket.
"She said to tell you to look through this. In case she isn't able to get here in time, you know."
He nodded; unable to speak. His stomach was a mess of nerves. His hands felt foreign as he shifted through the basket.
It was full of flowers; Asters. With those blue and white lined rocks hidden here and there in their depths.
He looked up, an aster clutched tight in his fist.
"Can I talk to her? On the phone?"
Angie smiled.
It didn't reach her eyes.
"I'll try contacting her. But she said she might not be able to pick up because her phone battery was about to run out."
His stomach dropped in disappointment.
He nodded mutely.
Angie went outside. Those few seconds felt like an infinity before she rushed back in and held the phone to his ear. He clutched it with trembling hands.
"Bunnie?"
There was silence for a while. Then-
"Bee!" Her voice was rushed.
"Listen, my phone battery is about to die. I'm so sorry , I planned this entire thing out and now I'm stuck here in traffic. I've written you a note though. Do read it."
"You'll be fine, okay? I promise. I'll be right there with you. I gotta go now but just- read the note okay?" Her voice broke off, just for a second.
"Okay." He whispered back into the phone.
His heart was hammering in his throat. His hands felt clammy as he clutched the phone even closer to his ear.
Her next word was soft; scared.
"Goodbye."
The beep came before he could answer.
He swallowed. There was a lump in his throat.
His voice barely breathed past it.
"Goodbye."
Dread. Hope. Fear.
Love.
Her letter trembled in his hands.
I never told you. But these flowers were why I named you Bee. Keep them with you and they'll keep you safe, okay?
I am always always with you even if I'm not able to see you off. Mentally hugging you right now.
Take care of yourself for me.
And you better walk out of that operation room completely and totally fine or I'll personally come and murder you.
I hope that's understood ;D.
I love you.
Yours forever,
Bunnie.
Named after the Greek word for "Star" due to its blooms resembling a star, Asters symbolize love, wisdom, faith, and color. This flower became a symbol of love when in Greek mythology it was placed on the altars for the gods. So now, when you send a bouquet featuring this vibrant bloom, the message of "Take Care Of Yourself For Me" is implied. It conveys deep emotional love and affection for someone.
Here is the place
Where I love you
The first thing he registered was the sound of a heartbeat pulsing warmly in his ear. It took another moment for him to realise it was his own. Another, to believe that it was really his. To believe that he was alive.
He was alive.
His eyes took a while to adjust to the light.
He closed them again. Just to feel.
His heartbeat was strong, definite.
The pain was gone, except for a slight discomfort near his chest area.
It took a moment before the realisation finally hit him.
He really was alive. He had a future. He could dream. He could hope.
Irrevocably, tears sprang to life in his eyes. They burnt against his lids, burnt against the dryness of his eyes.
They felt like salvation.
The sound of a door opening caught his attention. He craned his neck, found a black-haired nurse standing by the doorway. She hustled in as soon as their eyes met. Her face was stretched in a kind smile. He found himself smiling back.
"How're you feeling dear?"
He relaxed his neck muscles, let his head thump back against the pillow.
"I feel….good. God, I feel really good." A light laugh tinkled past his lips. It was breathless with joy.
The nurse smiled wider.
"I'm glad to hear that. We were a bit worried. You sure took your time waking up."
"Really? How long was I out?"
"Almost a full day. We took out your breathing tube just a little while ago. Are you having any difficulty breathing?"
He took a deep breath in. Held it. Slowly let it out. Shook his head.
The nurse marked something onto one of the folders she was carrying.
"Now I'm just gonna need you to answer a few more questions, check up on your vitals and then you can go back to sleep. Are you good with that?"
"Yeah sure. Absolutely fine with that."
He relaxed back into his pillow, closed his eyes again.
His head shot up suddenly, eyes open as a thought occurred to him.
The nurse startled at his sudden movement.
"Nurse, where's Bun?"
Her nose wrinkled in confusion for a moment before her eyes cleared in understanding.
"The girl who came before you? The one with black hair?"
"Yeah, her." He nodded enthusiastically as best as he could manage. "Where is she?"
The nurse looked confused again.
"Well, she was taken down about 10 hours ago. Immediately after the surgery."
"Taken down? What do you mean ``taken down?"
"Well, to the-" she paused, staring at him intently before something seemed to dawn on her.
"You- you didn't know?"
His forehead creased.
"Know what ?"
To his irritation, the nurse kept standing where she was, staring at him with a weirdly pinched look on her face, as if she couldn't quite comprehend something.
"I-" she started but faltered.
"Oh God." It was a tiny whisper, almost inaudible. Her eyes stole away from his gaze.
"Nurse?"
A heavy feeling descended on his heart. Like stones dropping down, slowly, in rhythm, each adding a little more dread as they fell.
Fear. There was fear present in his voice. He felt lightheaded, blood rushing too fast, pounding in his ears.
"Nurse, where's Bun?"
She stayed silent, the pinched look on her face persistent. Her lips were pressed together, a terrible expression on her face.
"I'm sorry."
"No."
A note of panic, blind racing panic shot through his veins.
"I'm sorry."
"No. There is no way, there is absolutely no way."
His heart was beating way too fast now, his vision slipping in and out of focus.
Her look had turned openly pitying now.
"No. No. Absolutely not."
"I'm really sorry, I thought you knew-"
"Shut up! Just- stop it- There is no way- she was completely healthy- my donor was a boy - what're you talking about ?"
She didn't say anything else. She just lowered her eyes.
He screamed. And screamed. And screamed until they brought her in.
The bed was rolled in, its wheels screeching across the floor raucously.
" Bun ?"
The whisper was broken, discordant.
There was a white buzzing noise in his head, a blank static, colours and images fumbling.
'.....Cancer third stage patient...'
"Bun?"
'…..Willing to donate anonymously…..'
"No. I- please please no. She's all I have! Please. Please . She's all I have. Please please please please please-"
They sedated him.
But when has sedation ever helped alleviate pain? It just delays it.
___________________________________
His footsteps were silent against the gravel.
All was silent.
The night moon illuminated the path in front of him.
He wondered what would happen if it didn't.
He wondered if he'd get lost and never be found again.
The path was familiar yet foreign. He had never travelled it quite like this before.
Like this, where all sounds were silenced and only emptiness echoed.
His feet faltered. A gentle breeze swayed through the leaves hanging down from the tree. A few leaves brushed against the top of his head like a soft caress.
The grave was simple.
A white, unfeeling slab of stone, with letters etched into it by a coarse hand.
The letters were half in shadow.
But he knew what they said.
After all,
He had come to life that day.
3rd September, 2017.
17 years old.
He was 18 now.
Today.
His hands trembled as he lay a single white orchid on the grave.
Slowly, he lowered himself onto the uneven earth. Dug his trembling hands into its cool grains.
Pretended, just for a second, that she was there.
Pretended that she was listening.
"Hey, Bunnie."
Hi Bee.
Pretended that she was answering.
He sat cross-legged in front of her.
Breathed out slowly. Tried to steady himself.
"Hi- ...um-...." he swallowed. His voice was scratchy from disuse. It barely whispered past his lips before dying out in his throat.
"I-it's my birthday today."
I know dummy . How could I forget?
"Mhm-" An oppressive pressure built in his throat. His laugh was strangled.
"How could you?"
His eyes squeezed shut.
She smiled in the darkness beneath his lids.
"Bunnie?"
The whisper was more of an exhale than an audible word.
Yeah?
The earth bunched into fists beneath his hands.
His breaths stumbled over the pain in his chest.
"You know that scholarship I applied to? For o-orphans?
Yeah?
I-... I got through."
Tried to mask the choke in his voice.
Holy shit. That's amazing, Bee. I'm really proud of you.
He swallowed down on a sob. Tears prickled at the edges of his vision.
"Yeah. It's great."
Imagined her, with her wide smile faltering into concern at his tone.
"...But?"
A breathless laugh escaped him.
"I'm really grateful, don't get me wrong."
Imagined her smiling tightly, face still pinched with worry.
"It's just- yesterday- they asked me to reconfirm my home address, standard procedure you know. Asked me to change my emergency contact too." he looked upwards in a vain effort to control the wetness trembling threateningly on his eyelashes.
"But I-.. well I- I couldn't really think of anyone else you know?"
His voice cracked, broke into pieces.
There are a lot of people who'd want to be there for you Bee.
"Y-yeah?"
Tasted the metallic blood as it stained his lips.
Of course.
"Could you- c-could you suggest someone to choose then?"
Silence.
" Bun ?"
Nothing.
" Bun…please?"
No answer came.
He broke.
A river of pain, and a man without a boat.
If I lay here. If I just lay here. Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Drops of salt watered the orchid spread out beside him. He lay quietly onto the earth and closed his eyes to the pearlescent moonlight, wishing beyond anything that he could burrow beneath the earth as well.
Those three words are said too much. They're not enough. They're not enough.
At a funeral, an orchid plant symbolizes your everlasting love for the deceased. This flower’s perfection gives the impression of inaccessibility, truly sending the message of “I want you or I miss you.”
_______________________________________
Endings. Always so incomplete, aren't they? I guess I'll leave this one incomplete too.
I am Bee.
And this was my story.
It took me a while to realise that not every ending is a happy one. And we were never destined to be one.
I still go to that willow.
Our willow.
I sit on the swing. And I swing by myself. I wonder about your smile. Sometimes I wish I had wondered more.
I lie on the grass and I sing Chasing cars to the empty air.
I wait.
It seems that's all I can do most days.
I read your letter. Again. Under candlelight, it showed new words. Different words. You always did like disappearing inks.
I wish it had rained forever. I wish I could've chosen both our dreams.
I'm glad I chose yours though.
Because this universe was made just to be seen by your eyes.
I love you.
I almost died the day that I lost you.
But I breathe. And I'll keep breathing till my heart stops. I'll keep singing Chasing cars to the stars. Because I don't know which one I lost you to, but you have to be on one of them. So I'll keep singing your music to you and try to listen back. I'll wave because I'm sure you wave back.
And I'll never forget. Not even the day my heart stops. Because after all, the heart that I carry is yours. So stop it when the pain gets too much okay? And I'll come sing Chasing cars to you.
Yours forever,
Bee.
I love you too.