The Boy Who Made Flowers Sing

3 | Fading

Nothing special happened for Melissa. People came with plastered, sad smiles and rehearsed condolences. It was just like her father's death. Deja vu. And just like that, Elena tipped over again, like the fragile vase she was, shattering into numerous shards.

Happiness is fleeting; that much Elena knew. But these days, happiness was unknown to her. It was a distant emotion that she could never reach. Soon, she forgot what it was like to be happy.

 It had been a couple of weeks since Melissa died. Elena hadn't even started healing from her father's death when calamity struck again. The weekends were her only getaway. She hadn't gone to school since her friend passed. She could barely stop her legs from crumbling underneath her as she stood above her friend's coffin at the funeral. Her burgundy dress draped over her reminded Elena of a pool of blood that her friend had been made to rest in. Elena was living a constant nightmare.

The parties continued. The world continued. But, Elena felt as if she was missing parts of the picture - the meaning behind her losses. What had she done so wrong to suffer so miserably? Her mother told her it was a part of life but that wasn't good enough.

She sat in between her friends and frowned, disliking the conversations and the sound of Kennedy's cackling laughter. She looked at her friends, wanted to shake their shoulders, and say, "Wake up. Look at yourself. Look at us. Is this what we'll always be? Will we all end up like Melissa? She's gone!"

After her father's death, she remembered how Melissa bought some drugs from her supplier, Tarence, and gave some to Elena. She loved the relaxation she felt. It made her night terrors and anxiety much more bearable. Elena trusted Melissa enough to not even know what she was swallowing half the time. But, Elena was hooked. And soon enough, Elena felt a need to dive into the world of pills like choosing items off of a menu at a restaurant.

And Elena had succumbed to the idea that she was not worthy of happiness. She especially hated when people told her to look at the bright side. But, what was a bright side when you couldn't even see in colours? When the whole world wasn't even hues of grey, but nothingness that continuously enveloped you?

Though every Friday night was like a broken CD player, today was different. It was Elena's turn to be Kennedy. She was a canister of gas waiting to explode by the slightest change in pressure.

 She slowly trudged into the bathroom, overtaken by a pounding headache that matched the beat of the loud music outside. She looked at her pale, bronze skin in the mirror, the messy wads of brown hair, and her black hoodie draped over her emaciated frame. The longer she darted her eyes over her hunched-over figure, the more Elena saw less of herself. She felt as if she was living in someone else's body and her true self had gone missing. She saw her father's chest, which was undulating vertically, suddenly cease. Her sister had stared at Elena as if she was a ghost.

Elena looked at her swollen eyes in the dirty mirror and ran her shaky hands through her tangled hair. Everything felt as if it had happened yesterday. Her father didn't make a sound, but like a flower, shed its last wilting petal silently. She imagined Melissa passed out in her room, a handful of opioids in her bruised hand. How could Melissa desert her when Elena needed her the most? She only caused more pain for her. Elena was still in shock. How could this happen? It had to be a nightmare. 

The headache got worse and suddenly, the music began to fade and Elena heard a loud, piercing frequency in her left ear. Before she could react, she found herself lying on the couch, facing three pairs of blurry eyes concernedly looking at her. She brought her left hand to her forehead and felt a cold sweat despite burning up. The loud music came back.