A lovely garden

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I'm not very social. I'm practically a ghost. I wish somebody would call out my name, "Pekoe!", they'd declare like I was something important to them. If only I had friends. When I was seven, I made up a friend for myself. I called her Faye. She was my only friend. She was there for me when no one else was, but I suppose even Faye wasn't there for me because she wasn't real.

I walk to work at the coffee shop every day because I enjoy the stroll. It gives me time to think and makes me feel real. Everyday I pass by a garden, and everyday it tempts me to come forth.

"I wish I could" I imagine myself saying to the peaceful garden. "but I can't today, I'll be late you see." The garden solemnly noded its head in understanding.

However, today was different. I woke up early in eagerness to finally explore the greenery. Excitedly, I opened the gate. Its beauty filled my senses. The smell of honeysuckle and rosemary, the sound of bees dancing in the mist, and the sight of the vivid flowers flashing in my eyes. I was filled with joy at this extraordinary sight. It beckoned me forward as I walked deeper into the thrush. In the foggy distance, I spotted a small cottage. I ran towards it wanting to see what was inside.

They say that curiosity killed the cat. I guess I should've taken that into consideration as a root decided to stump my path. The world turned upside down as I fell to the ground, hitting my head on a rock. Everything turned black, then I opened my eyes to a beautiful woman.

"Are you alright?", she asked, voice full of concern. I was too in shock to respond. This girl was my one and only friend. Imaginary that is,

"Faye?" I questioned in disbelief. She stood tall over me, black hair licking her cheeks, golden eyes melting my stare. She had grown up.

"Pekoe! It's been so long, I haven't seen you since we were kids." she smiled nostalgically

"Yes, I didn't know that you lived here..." I was astonished. How was I talking to my imaginary friend, and why did it feel so real.

"Come in, come in. We should probably bandage up your wound" Faye helped me into the cottage.

The inside was like a dream. Vines grew along the windows, fresh bread baked in the oven, flowers crowded every corner. Faye sat me down and started dabbing at my wound.

"Have you always lived here" I wondered aloud, nervously fiddling with my fingers.

"Yes, don't you remember?" Faye rubbed a salve on my forehead, " we used to play here as kids."

I started to remember how we had made up a little cottage in my dreams where we would dance around in the garden.

I smiled,"I remember." 

Was this real, was it always real. Had my imagination deceived me? Maybe I wasn't as socially pathetic as I thought I was.

After the struggle of getting the bandage around my wild red hair, Faye and I talked for hours. She was always the extroverted one. I listened and added in small comments. We talked about what we had been doing in the time we were away from each other. We talked about our favorite recipes, books we've read, we even ended up fantasizing about the future. But all happiness must come to an end. I looked over at the clock which read 7:47 pm. The window had turned dark.  I leapt up abruptly realizing that it was getting late.

"I'm so sorry, I have to go" I exclaimed as I rushed towards the door.

Faye looked a little sad, but she walked me out into the garden to say her goodbyes.

I walked back through that lovely garden. The garden however, didn't wave goodbye to me, as if it knew something I didn't.

When I opened the gate, I didn't recognize where I was. The landscape had changed completely. Something told me I wouldn't be going home. I turned back to Faye with confused eyes.

"Actually, I think that I'll stay here a bit longer," walking back through the smirking garden once again.

"Perfect, I have a spare room if you would like to sleepover." Faye suggested.

"That sounds great." I smiled excitingly.

That night we stayed up by the fireplace, eating her fresh bread, making each other laugh. Before long we went to bed. The spare bedroom was just as magical as the rest of the house. Sheets as soft as lamb's ear, a big inviting window, which was slightly cracked so I could listen to the crickets chirping.

I plopped myself on the mattress, staring at the ceiling. I examined the thin cracks in the plaster letting it sooth my mind. "Wow" I thought. I couldn't believe that I had a real friend. Suddenly a wave of fear passed over me. What if she left me? What if she doesn't even like me? All of these negative thoughts crowded my head. But another little voice in my head shushed them. The voice of Faye. Her voice was that of a friend. Someone who cared about me. I listened to that voice as I drifted off to sleep.

The next day went by fast and I forgot about my life outside of the cottage. One day turned into a week and one week turned into two. Everyday we grew closer, forgetting about the rest of the world. Safe in our small garden of dreams. Every morning I woke up to her glowing face making raspberry biscuits and homemade almond milk. She was always up before me.

One night as we were laying by the fireplace, listening to the crackle of the flame, I asked "will you ever leave me?"

Faye didn't say anything, she just grinned that warm smile of hers. "It's getting late, you should get some rest."

"But you didn't answer-" my sentence was cut short as she silenced me with her finger on my lip.

"Shh," she whispered as my eyes started to feel droopy,"some things are better left unsaid." I don't remember what happened after that.

I woke up the next morning and immediately knew something was off. I couldn't hear the sizzle of butter in the pan, I couldn't smell the scent of warmth that Faye always carried with her. The kitchen was empty. I stared blankly at it. I felt cold, this was wrong. This was all wrong. I hurried to her bedroom. Empty. My throat started to close up. I ran through the entire house, but I couldn't find her.

"She'd have to be in the garden, she just has to be." I thought to myself. I opened the door to find an empty grey sky. The garden frowned at me and shook its head as if to say that it was empty as well. Empty, empty, empty. I started to breath faster, dropping down to my knees.

"Faye," I whispered, "Faye!" I said a bit louder. Soon I was yelling her name. Had she left me. Did she never love me. How could she just get up and leave! All of my self doubt started seeping in. Her voice no longer held the dam together. There in that garden screaming a name I thought I knew, I realized how terrified I was of being alone. "FAYE!" I shrieked one last time. And then my world faded as a brightness engulfed me. I was in the hospital, tears streaming down my face, a worried nurse at my side. I could hear the beeping of a monitor. I could smell the scent of an empty world. Suddenly it hit me. It was all a dream. Everything was all a dream. It was never real, everything had been a joke played on me by my own mind.

"You're awake!" the worried nurse clasped my hand with concern.

"It was all fake," I murmured, tears rolling faster. The nurse realized how torn I was and gave me a sympathetic hug as I cried into his shoulder.

Later, a doctor came in and explained that I was found passed out in a garden with a head injury. I had been in a coma for weeks. It all made sense now, why it felt like a dream. It was a dream—just a stupid dream. Time slowed and turned grey as I was given medication and a physical.

I eventually went home, but the whole world and my perception of life had darkened. I closed my shell back up, not allowing myself to be vulnerable. I continued working at the coffee shop. Each day passed, my eyes glazed over, until a ray of sunshine peaked through my storm clouds. It was that kind nurse. He stood at the counter ordering a mocha latte. He looked over at me and realized who I was.

"Pekoe right?"

"Yeah, thats me."

He reached his hand out to shake mine,"I've never properly introduced myself, I'm Finic."

He was a joyful person, his smile big and bright like Faye's. I took his hand. I took that ray of sunshine finally opening myself up.

"I think we'll be good friends."

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