Uncovering Dahlia's Truth

The crash

Two years later...

Angel gave her mom a small smile as she dropped a box on the floor of Angel's flat. She stared around at the room, hands on her hips and heaved a sigh. "Ah, my little Angel," she said and bombarded Angel with a hug, making her stammer back a few. "You're not so little anymore."

Angel pulled back and saw that her mother had tears in her eyes. "You'll have so much fun! You're own place!" She gestured around them once again at the small homey kitchen, living room behind them with a big flat screen TV and the small spiral staircase, leading to the single bedroom and bathroom. "All to yourself!"

Angel hugged her chest and looked away. "It was supposed to be ours," she said softly, starring at the kitchen counter.

Angel's mother bit her lip and bowed her head. "She would've wanted you to have fun," she said, looking up hopefully.

Angel bit hard on her lip, clenching her jaw, fighting away the tears threatening to spill. She already shed enough. "You didn't know her like I did," she whispered.

Her mother took this as her cue to leave her daughter to herself. "All right then," she said, touching Angel's arm before stepping back to the door with the number 13 engraved on the oak wood. "Ha -"

Angel glared at her mother before she could finish her sentence, because she knew what she was going to say. Happy birthday. Angel's birthday isn't exactly a day you could call happy.

Her mother swallowed hard, bowed down her head and left the flat.

Angel stared at the door a few seconds before bending down and sitting cross legged at a box with Dahlia memories written in black marker. She threw her blonde hair behind her back and wiped the few droplets of sweat from her forehead. She tore the tape away and opened the box, peering inside. The first thing that caught her eye was a picture of when they were fifteen, already best friends for two years then. Their younger selfs beamed up at Angel in their bikinis at the beach, Brooklyn pulling a face in the background. Angel smiled at the photo, remembering the day.

"You are such a clown, Brook!" Dahlia laughed when Brooklyn did three cartwheels in a row, his dark hair rustling in the slight breeze when he stopped to smirk at them. Dahlia had a hot pink bikini on, her small porcelain body sitting down on her towel. Angel followed her lead in a white bikini and Brooklyn came running at them. He positioned himself in front of them and Angel couldn't help but stare at his bear back. "You're going to burn, Dahlia," Angel said, handing her best friend her sunscreen. Dahlia rolled her emerald eyes playfully and pushed away the sunscreen. "No thanks, you know I hate it, it's so sticky and just yuck." Dahlia pulled a face and they chuckled at her. "It's better than burning," Angel singsonged as a group of lifeguards trotted past. They looked over at Angel, Dahlia and Brooklyn. "They're starring at you," Dahlia murmured through the side of her mouth and Angel blushed deeply, looking at Brooklyn from the back, but he said nothing. "Oh, stop trying to embarrass me!" Angel said, bashfully and giggled as she pushed Dahlia to the side. Later on, they asked one of the lifeguards to take a photo of them.

Angel put the photo back in the box and took a deep breath, calming herself down. She let the breath out and hauled herself up, taking the box and placing it on the kitchen counter. She opened the fridge to the little food and liquids she already put in it and grabbed the 2l Coke. She sat down on the counter, taking a massive sip of the Coke and leaned on her elbows. It was her nineteenth birthday today, and as she's preferred it since her disastrous seventeenth, she was alone. Last year she asked for no parties, no presents and no happy birthday's and it wasn't that hard, since she already had no more friends left.