Flower Girl | h.s.

13.

Harry

When the car pulls into the driveway, I feel a sense of relief wash over my body as I recognize that the house didn't burn down. It was still standing, the roof was still attached, and everything seemed to be quite normal. The neighborhood was quiet; most likely because it was before six in the morning on a Saturday.

As I opened the door of my car, I saw Daisy starting to walk up the driveway towards me from where she parked on the street. My hands fumbled with the keys to the house as I quickly unlocked it– thankfully, it was locked, and either Brooks or Lottie remembered to lock the door behind them. Again, another sign that there hadn't been a burglar or forced entry.

The door opened, and I walked into the house, Daisy was in tow behind me as we stepped into the foyer. We were covered in sand, I could feel the salt coating my hair as I ran my fingers through it. Daisy's braids were coming undone, her eyes looked tired and I felt an immense amount of guilt sitting on my chest for a few reasons.

This type of thing never happened– I had never been this irresponsible. Sure, I don't doubt that he was fine and could manage because he was so smart and easy-going, that I'm sure he wouldn't have even noticed that I was gone. He was seven, not two. But, it still gave me deep regret that I told him that I'd be home, and he had called me looking for me.

I didn't answer. I wasn't there when he needed me to, and if an emergency had occurred, what if I wasn't able to help him?

There were a lot of thoughts cultivating in my mind, and I just wanted to find him and make sure that he was okay– that way I could settle my thoughts.

My feet took me two steps at a time on the way up the steps; I could feel Daisy following closely behind on my trail. It hadn't really hit me that she was still here and that we could ultimately spend the day together. My time with her always felt short, but her willingness to make sure that Brooks was okay was a piece of her that I just couldn't stop thinking about.

Opening up Brook's bedroom, my eyes widened at the sight.

He wasn't there.

It was an empty bed with the covers thrown off and closed blinds, with bits of sun peaking through the small holes. My eyes wandered around the cluttered room to get any type of relief that may have been helpful on where to find him.

I had been relatively calm until that point, I thought, so when my mind started to wander, it got a bit ugly.

My heart raced as I attempted to put my mind back together. It was still way too early for him to be anywhere but in his bed, and I felt my blood pressure rising quickly before I stepped back into the hallway trying to calm myself.

When I noticed that Daisy was missing, too, I looked to see that my bedroom door was opened ajar.

When I stepped into the doorway, my breathing hitched at the vision in front of me.

Brooks was lying peacefully in my bed, his eyes shut with a separate blanket covering him up to his chin as he laid on top of the covers. His little chest moving up and down in quiet, calm breaths. He looked so small in the middle of the queen-sized bed, but I figured that he came in here when he recognized that I wasn't home. Like he was searching for comfort anywhere that he could find it.

Daisy sat on the edge of the bed, looking at him before she turned towards me with a relieved smile on her face that seemed to match mine. She could tell that something was off, because her smile started to fade when I walked into the room.

My jaw shifted as I looked at him, the tense feeling in my throat as I knelt down by the bed to push the honey colored curls out of his face. His nose scrunched when my face got closer to him, I could tell that he was dreaming– I hoped wherever he was, he felt safe and loved.