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Johnny was going to have a dinner date with Clara, and he could barely contain his joy. He half-walked, half-skipped skipped down the cobblestone street, a bouquet of daisies in one hand while the other was nervously adjusting his tie.
He couldn’t afford a fancy suit, so he went with the shirt and pants that had the least wrinkles and no stains. He felt a bit self-conscious though, going on some fancy dinner date looking like some average joe. He knew that Clara loved him regardless though.
I wish I could buy her everything in the world, he thought. But these daisies will have to do for now.
He sighed dreamily, fantasizing about the future they would have. If this went well, they would likely spend their entire lives together, eventually dying in each other’s arms at a ripe old age.
When Johnny approached the address, he was slightly underwhelmed by the appearance of the restaurant. It was tucked into the corner of a lesser-walked street, and seemed to greet him with a silent sigh. The striped red and white awning had faded to an almost bluish yellow, and the bricks were worn. The whole place looked kind of neglected. There was a bit of charm to it though.
Johnny paused in front of the restaurant for a second, and fished his fingers into his pocket, just to check if his wallet was still there. He always felt a need to double check things, as if they could just disappear into thin air. He knew it was silly but the action soothed him a bit.
The note he got from Clara said she would be a bit late. He didn’t know why she couldn’t have just told him directly about the date, but she probably just had a lot on her plate, with the family business and all. It was sweet that she still wanted to put aside time in her schedule for him. No, for them.
Johnny could barely contain his grin; his face probably looked really stupid. He tottered giddily towards the storefront, and pushed on the door with his free hand, which swung inwards with a pleasant chime. Daisy petals fell and swirled around him with the motion before unceremoniously gathering around his feet like dust.
Johnny walked inside, to see that the restaurant was weirdly empty. The lights were dim to a point that the place barely seemed to be lit at all, and he didn’t see a single person.
“Hello?” he tentatively called out. “Is there anyone here? I was supposed to have a table for to, at 6 pm tonight.”
If Johnny had a lick of common sense he would turn away now. In his defense, he usually did, but in the moment he was too giddy and lovedrunk to think straight.
There was a light on in the kitchen. Johnny walked across the dusty checkerboard tiles over to the door. He opened it, stepped inside, and it shut with a loud clatter behind him, the same time as a large hand squeezed around his throat. He dropped the bouquet all over himself and the petals fell like his expectations.
“Wow Johnny, almost thought ya weren’t stupid enough to fall for that. But I guess Clara doesn’t have the best taste in men. Ya really shouldn’t have been messin’ around with her.”
Johnny wheezed. His eyes watered and his head swam to the point he couldn’t recognize the man speaking.
“I-, weuhggh- his feeble attempts at a retort were interrupted by a sharp punch to the eye.
The man said something, but Johnny was somewhere else now. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t breathe. He was barely even cognizant of the hand raising the kitchen knife, or the several stab wounds, or the moment where he was thrown unceremoniously to the ground, laying face down covered in blood and petals.
Johnny’s breathing was labored, he couldn’t even tell if he was breathing or not. Everything was a blur. Nothing felt real, he lay there in his own blood for several minutes as the gangster walked away to get someone to help with cleanup.
Eventually he slipped away into the nothingness, alone but not lonely. Even at his lowest, weakest, most desperate point, all of his thoughts were about her.
But…. who is… her?
There was daisies….
She must be Daisy.
And then he dreamed about daisies for a very long time.