First Crush

Ch 19: White Lilies of Memory

Sorry for not updating for a really looong while~ I kind of became busy and got lost in how to write this. Hope you guys enjoy!

Oh and I'll explain why Taylor Swift's 'The Outside' is the song I have for the chapter. I'll try to put it somewhere down below.

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The car stopped by the side of the road. The boutique in front of me shouted sunshine. It was brightly lit by the various colorful flowers hanging on the walls. There were pots of different sizes along the floor.

The tinkling music of bells greeted my ears as I pushed the glass door open. Sunlight was trickling in and I was suddenly filled by a serenity I couldn't explain.

That bubble popped when I heard a cheery voice shout, "Good morning!"

The voice was obviously female, and I looked around for the source of the voice but couldn't find her.

"Here!" I cheerful woman warmly waved, rising up from her crouching position in the far corner. "What can I do for you, dear?" she asked, coming over to me.

A spot of warmth blossomed in my chest. I liked her already. I don't ever recall anyone calling me dear before.

"A bouquet of white lilies please," I replied, not helping the smile growing on my lips.

"Right away. Wait a few moments, sweetie," she replied, disappearing behind a door beside the counter.

I looked around again, feeling entirely calm, something I haven't exactly felt for a long time. A long, long time.

The place was warm. Golden rays hit my upturned face, and the fragrance of the flowers was gentle on my nose. Oddly enough, I heard a few bird calls. They didn't seem out of place. To tell the truth, it felt like they belonged to this place.

The lady came bustling out of the room carrying a glowing bunch of white flowers wrapped in pale blue. "Here they are, dear," she smiled fondly at the flowers.

I took the bouquet, putting my face closer to catch the scent. "How much are these?" I asked, looking up.

"$25 for you pretty young thing," she winked, the crinkles by her eyes appearing.

I handed her $30. "Please keep the change," I hastily turned around, not wanting her to reject my offer.

As I went out the door, I heard her faintly call, "Thank you and come back soon!"

I grinned to myself. I just might one day.

[Hospital]

We entered the glass doors and went directly to my father's room. I walked slowly, stopping a few steps away from the bed.

Being back in this room returned me to a somber mood. I knelt down on both knees, cradling the flowers to my chest.

"I brought you white lilies, father. I think it's what mom would've done," I looked up at him, hoping for something. A smile, maybe? I quickly pushed away memories of him smiling down at me, and telling his child to get up from the cold white floor.

"She loved white lilies, remember? They're her favourite. You told me she walked down the aisle wearing a tiny white lily in her hairdo."

I pushed back the pressing tears, blinking rapidly.

"You wouldn't be like this if we didn't lose her, right... Dad?" I whispered.

Dad. I hadn't called him that in years. That thought released something inside me.

"But don't worry father, you'll be all right," I continued, no longer trying to hold back the tears. "Even if we don't go back to being close, or seeing eye to eye, or even staying long enough in the same room, it's fine. It's totally all right with me. I'm sure you're trying to deal with her death in your own way."

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. I pulled my knees ot my chest and gazed at his face, resting my chin on my knees.

How can death cover a person up so much that they don't resemble who they used to be anymore?

This man I was looking at was battling grief. Grief that for years had gnawed at him. Has he ever accepted mom's death?

I never got to ask. I was already shut out long before I started coming into terms with what happened.

Nan says my father sat still  for days, staring at a picture of my mom he held in his hands. No one dared disturb him. He barely ate, and barely drank. He didn't take a bath for days at a time. Nan said that she had to force him do things. He did everything robotically in those days, not even having enough will to argue with her persistence.

She told me she got fed up since he kept ignoring me. I was a child, dealing with her mother's death, and the father was nowhere. Not literally, of course. He just seemed to have disappeared in his own world with mom, or, well, a picture of mom.

She screamed at him. Told him to pull himself together. Told him mom wouldn't have wanted her death to make him, or anyone else, sad. He wasn't showing any signs of reacting. She finally screamed, "Ciara! Ciara! Do you even remember your daughter?" She accused him of being a bad father apparently. She told me she was shocked when he lifted his head at the sound of my name.

He rose up from the seat, and looked at Nan. As if suddenly seeing her for the first time in weeks.

He slowly walked to the master's bedroom and shut the door.

Nan said she was too shaken by that to continue confronting him, so she just listened at the door.

He took a shower, evident through the sound of spraying water.

I buried my face between my knees. The whole time I was mourning mom, my father never comforted me. That hurt. A family should deal with stuff together, right? But I was left alone.

I saw him looking at me intently on one of the nights we had dinner together. He opened his mouth and closed it. Finally, a decided look came over his features and words came out in a rush. "Are you-"

I never got to hear the end of the sentence. He stopped himself midway.

I've always wondered what he was about to say. All these years, somewhere deep in my heart, I hoped that what he was going to ask was how I was, if I was doing all right. It just seemed to be the most probable thing he was going to say. I wish he cared for me enough to ask, even if it was only one time, if I was all right.

Even if he didn't wait to hear my answer. Even if he never asked it ever again. I would have at least heard it once.

I used to hear it a lot, see?  Whenever I fell down, both he and mom would be there, asking if I was okay. I never heard him say those words to me after mom died.

I rubbed my eyes tiredly. They were still watering. Not body wrenching sobs, but quiet, breath-taking ones. I was shaking.

I realized something today. I missed my dad. Would he ever come back? Luke never got to experience how affectionate he was. He wasn't even a year old then when mom died. Do you think maybe one day he will?

I've got nowhere else to go. No friends. Kennedy, the thought suddenly came. Or one? No parents there for me. I don't understand why you'd blame me for her death! I didn't do anything.... What exactly do you want me to do?

My thoughts drifted through images of our family. Happy times when it was still the four of us. I drifted off to a lulling blackness, grateful that my body was calming down. It had not seemed willing to stop.

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I'm thinking of changing to a more catchy title. Suggestions, anyone? ;P

I've been wanting to tell you about Ciara's mom ever since the first few chapters. It's a nice feeling to have finally gotten around to writing it :))) The story's probably midway already.... I can't remember exactly :3

Oh. And this is for andreialira. Thanks for following me, dear!

I'll be dedicating the next few chapters for the other people who followed me lately. I think there're three? Sorry if the dedications are delayed! I'll try to get another couple of chapters done within the month. Mwah sistahs! :3

Pls. comment or vote!! :D