Fly ∆way Girl

|3|

|LOVELY|

Daisies. Millions of them. They flowed down several hills that fell before us, making the hills look almost snow covered. They reflected the light of the sun wonderfully.

"Wow." I said in awe.

Josiah chuckled. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yes. Where are we?" I asked him.

"It doesn't matter, let's just enjoy it." He sat down in the knee high flowers.

I accepted his answer and sat down next to him. Nothing matters anymore. At least this place was pleasing to look at.

I looked around us in all directions. The field continued on for miles in every direction. Nothing was visible but flower after white flower.

How did he know about this place? I have to picture a place before I can go there without walking. He must have walked for miles. "Josiah, how did you find this place?"

His brown eyes gave me a tired look, then he ran his fingers through his curls. "You ask so many questions..." He didn't say it like he was frustrated with me, just in an observing way, like he was making mental notes.

"You said you would help me find answers."

"I know, and I will."

"Then why don't you answer my questions?" I asked. I may be getting frustrated with him now.

"I can't give you the answers you need. You have to figure them out on your own. You are more than capable of doing so."

How is that helpful for me in any way?

He smiled, he knew what I was thinking. "You already know everything you need to figure this out, Harley."

"I know a lot already, it just doesn't make any sense to me.." I told him.

He swallowed hard, and leaned in closer. I suddenly had his full attention. "Tell me what you think you know. It couldn't possibly be the truth." His face gave little away as to what he was feeling.

I didn't like the way he was speaking to me now, almost like he was daring me to have it wrong. Maybe that's what he hopes for.

Should I tell him my story? What could it hurt? I don't really know much about this place yet, maybe I do have something to lose. Actually, I definitely do when it comes to Josiah. He could be the only friend I meet here. I should keep him close.

"I was a senior; a cheerleader."

His lips pressed together tightly, waiting for me to go on.

Finally, he said, "What else?"

"I don't know.." I said. My mind raced for more answers, more insights to who I was, but I came up short. I have no idea as to who Harley was.

"That's all you can think of? I thought you said you knew a lot?" He said. His eyebrows were brooding, but his tone was slightly more playful than before.

I thought of the memory at prom, the one with hundreds of people cheering for me. "I had friends, a lot of them." Even to me it sounded like an assumption, but it's all I have to go on.

He only stared at me with the same weary eyes, like a father does when they know their child is lying to them. I wasn't lying though. The memories were clear as day, I just didn't have enough of them to piece together in order to form the whole picture.

"You don't understand. I can't really remember much right now." I said in my defense.

"I understand." He said sincerely. "I want you to remember Harley, but it's going to take time, and a lot of thought."

He was probably right, I mean I just died. Maybe after I sort through the shock of it, more memories will come back to me.

"Tell me your thoughts." He said.

"Thoughts about what?" I asked.

"How do you feel now that you aren't with the living?"

That question was deep, deeper than I had thought about the matter. How do I feel about my death?

"I don't like it."

He motioned around to the flowers, "What's not to like?"

As beautiful as this place is, It's nothing if I have no one to share it with. "I'm alone." I settled with the shortened version. "I have no hope. I'm done for."

"I am here." He said quietly.

"Yeah, but you are sworn to secrecy. That frustrates me."

He played with a flower in front of him before plucking it from the dirt. He laughed, to himself mostly. "It frustrates everyone, Harley."

"How many people do you meet here?" I asked.

"Let's just say there are a lot of flowers that are torn from their roots." He sat the loose daisy down in front of me.

I gasped as it lay lifeless in the dirt. "It's dead." I'm dead.

"It still has roots on it." He said, brushing his finger tips against the hair-like roots. "But it will die eventually, whether it returns to the dirt or not. All of these will." His eyes flowed over the rolling hills. "I'm sorry that you are here, I really am, but it was going to happen eventually."

"I didn't want it to be so soon." I said.

"I didn't either." He said in a small voice. His gaze was focused on the flowers now.

Those three little words weighed a thousand pounds. "What do you mean?" I asked frantically.

"I mean what I said. I wish you didn't have to leave so early."

Who's choice was it for me to die? The heart that I didn't know I still had began to race. "Did you have something to do with it?!" I asked suddenly.

He didn't answer. I noticed his nostrils flare as the muscles in his chiseled face tightened.

The flowers around me were blazing red in the light of the setting sun. They weren't as pretty as they were before, in fact, they gave this new place an eerie feeling. I didn't want to be here after dark. Our conversation needed to hurry along.

I was almost too afraid to ask my second question, especially since the first went unanswered. "What are you, Josiah?"

A weird smile passed over his face. "What do you think?" He asked. Another dare to get it wrong.

I didn't want to give him my answer, but I wanted his. "Are you the angel of death?"

He smirked. "No. Not even close." His eyes were dark now, nothing close to the warm brown they were in the sunlight.

"Do you have something to do with people dying?" I pressed on, ignoring my fear for the moment.

"Yes, you could say that." He chewed on his lip as I continued to think.

"How?"

He hesitated for a moment, staring off down the hills. "I help collect people after they die."

What?! What could that mean? Like a grim reaper? Like the fates in Greek mythology? I envisioned the way he picked the flower. Is that his way of cutting the thread?!

"How many people's death have you caused?" I almost couldn't breathe as I waited for his answer.

He stared so hard at them, the flowers could burst into flames.
His cheeks were red as he finally gave me an answer. "Everyone's." he whispered.