The Last Daffodil

2

2

The red digital face of the clock on the bedside table read 1:47 when I opened my eyes. I knew the instant my eyes open that I was not alone in the room. I could hear my mother's soft breathing on a chair against the wall. I had told her to go home. That I'd still be here tomorrow, but she had been set on staying. But there was another sound. Someone else was breathing, and the sound was unfamiliar.

My hand squeezed against my pillow. The extra breathing was quiet, but fast enough that the person must have been awake. My thoughts wandered to the doctor, but I knew as soon as I think of him that it can't be.

Well, if it wasn't the doctor, or my family, than who was in my room?

"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." A voice said. And even though I had only heard that voice a few times, I knew it without even thinking about it. Travis.

"You're the guy." I said. My head was spinning slightly from the morphine.

"Yeah," he chuckled. "I guess I'm the guy."

"Hmm." I said cleverly.

"I suppose I should introduce myself. I don't think 'The Guy' is an adequate title." He laughed quietly. I wish I could see his face in the darkness. "My name is Travis O'Shea."

"Daffodil Montgomery." My tongue feels thick and fuzzy.

"Daffodil," he said it as though he enjoyed the way it felt on his tongue. "That's a pretty name."

I shrugged before I realized that he couldn't see me. "I guess." I said out loud. I've never cared for my name. That's the name you gave a petite flower of a girl. I was not a petite flower of anything.

"You don't think so?" He sounded genuinely interested.

"I've never really cared for it." I answered honestly.

"You're probably tired. I should go."

"No!" The word comes louder and more fierce than I had intended. I suddenly realized that I didn't want him to leave. I would be happy talking to him all night. Creepy stalker style. "No, don't leave. I'm fine."

"How do you feel?" He asked, a hint of amusement tinting his words.

You know," my morphine high brain responded. "Everybody keeps asking me that and I keep giving the same answer. My head hurts. That makes sense though. It should hurt. It was just ripped open and then sewed back together. I shouldn't even be alive." My voice puttered out as I realized I had been rambling.

"I suppose you're right. But you're not. That's nothing shy of a miracle."

"That's what Dr. What's-his-Name said."

"Wow, I'm as smart as Dr. What's-his-Name. That's quite an achievement." It took me a painfully long time to realize that he was teasing me.

"Do you think I'm going to die?" I asked, steering the conversation into a no-teasing zone. My voice broke on the last word and I knew at that moment that I was actually scared of dying. I didn't want to.

"I sincerely hope not." Travis responded quietly.

"Me too." I move my hand to the edge of the bed, looking for the remote that will push me into a sitting position. My fingers find the button and the top end of the bed makes a grinding sound as it moves upward. My head started to sting painfully, making me hiss. "Or not," I muttered to myself.

But then he was there, his face leaning over mine. Even in the murky darkness he was beautiful. The faint light from the moon shone off his eyes, making them a silvery green colour. His mouth was pressed into a thin line.