Daisies on my grave

Chapter 5.

My parents signed the papers for me, and they left as quickly as they came. I wasn't surprised. One time, when I was five, they took me to an art camp and they wanted to leave so quickly that they left me in the car and we had to go back so they could drop me off. I had quite of a childhood.
They weren't even complaining about the price, they just agreed, signed and left. They must love me at least a little, then.

Rose and I were leaving the hospital together, and since she still wasn't a 100% back to normal (and she never will be, that's for sure), I had to drive. I got my license circa two years ago, so people would think I had a lot of time to practice, but that's not the case, unfortunately. Rose drove me anywhere if I wanted to go somewhere, but there's not too many places I like to go.
I've been avoiding driving and now that I had to do it I kinda panicked. Driving drives me crazy. All those signs you have to look out for, the pedestrians, and the worst: other cars. But I prepared myself for the challenge, and took the driver's seat with enough confidence to rev the engine. Then all of my confidence dissipated.

"Rose, I'm afraid I can't do this", I turned sideways to face her which was a little complicated considering my seatbelt held me back a considerable amount from moving any of my following body part: torso.

Her dazed glance, sparkling eyes and constantly quirking up lips made me feel horrible, and I was sure she didn't comprehend any of what I just told her. But I was wrong.
She was laughing at me. I thought it was one of the many side effects of the pills she took, but I was wrong again.

"I'm sorry, I can't take you seriously if you talk like that", she laughed quietly, and I furrowed my brows in confusion.

"Talk like what?"

"Bri'ish", she laughed so hard her tears started flowing down on her face.

"Oh", I mouthed as I realized what was I doing. Apparently, every single time I got into a stressful situation I started talking in a British accent. I must've developed this habit because of Granny. She was British, and when I was afraid of something I always went to her to complain, and she always listened and made sure I was okay before she let me go. And I involuntarily talked to her in a British accent, so that just kinda stuck.

"Do you want me to drive?" Rose asked after she finally finished laughing at my not-intentional habit, and I shook my head.

"No, you just sit there in peace. I don't want to die...", I was joshing, but her face went all gloomy, so I added, "in a car accident." She still wasn't in a better mood, but I thought it was a good save on my behalf.

"Let's just go", she cleared her throat and I mumbled a shy 'okay' under my breath, grabbed the wheel with both hands and let out a heavy breath.

I put my foot on the accelerator and tried to recall what I learnt two years ago. Just take it easy, Daisy. You can do this. I couldn't. The car jerked back and I hit my head on the headrest.

"Okay, Daisy, that's it" Rose didn't hesitate and before I could even collect my thoughts she was out of the car and was knocking on my window. "Get out, now!"

"Okay", I said guiltily, got out and switched places with Rose, although I still wasn't sure that it was a good idea for her to drive, but apparently it wasn't a good idea for me, either. "Just go slowly", I told her, and she just spared me a condescending look before revving the engine again. The car didn't jerk back this time, obviously. I suck at driving.

We rolled out of the parking lot, leaving behind the big, sullen building which in reality wasn't sullen, but I felt like it was the appropriate adverb to use. Rose, even if drugged, was still way better at driving then me, and she didn't cause any accidents on the way, except for the moment when she almost hit a pigeon, but I think we can let that go. I wanted to talk to Rose so badly, but I didn't know whether she was mad at me or not, so I didn't try. We were halfway to home when she looked at me from the corner of her eye and smiled wanly.