Daisy's Gone A Little Crazy

Backwards Facing

Most romance stories start with a damsel in distress... But that's not how this one does. This romance story starts backwards. Yes, as always, it does in fact have a damsel in distress. But there isn't a prince to save her here.

Our damsel is named Daisy, and she is anything but a beautifully coloured flower. Daisy, as a poet would put it, isn't as pretty as the petunias. Daisy is anything but ordinary. The average writer would put Daisy in a body built for a model, with bright blue eyes and a head of long and curly blonde hair. Daisy, as you might have guessed, has none of the above. She lives with her straight and somewhat short brown-red hair, and greyish eyes to match the bland structure of her face. She has no excess fat around her edges, but she isn't exactly Kim Kardashian material. Daisy's chest isn't flat, but it also isn't stare-worthy. Her hips are lined straight up with her kind of chubby legs, and her butt definitely doesn't jiggle. Daisy wouldn't ever really stand out in a crowd. This is all I have decided to describe about Daisy today.

This day, though she didn't know it at the time, was very important for her future. Daisy's first day of high school would shape her very life that stood in front of her. The ninth grade wasn't going to know what hit it.

The first bell rang, signalling for all students to head to their first class. For Daisy, it was math. As Daisy stepped through that classroom door, everything changed...

I'm kidding, nothing changed. Daisy calmly walked to a desk and sat down for her first class. Everything seems to be normal for her. Daisy's large blue binder greeted her for her very first period in high school. This is where it will all begin for her. This is her chance to show the world what Daisy was made of.

Sadly, she chose not to take that chance. The second bell rang. It seemed louder than the first. Each and every 14 year old in that math class rose and budged themselves through the door. Daisy waited. Nobody ever noticed, but Daisy was always the last one out of class. She would set everything into her binder, pop all of the rings into their places, and wait. She would wait until everybody else had left the doorway before she stepped into the halls. The reason for this is unknown, yet she continued to do it anyways.

Daisy's locker was right beside the school pin board. This is the moment where she missed her chance to shine. Well, almost missed. Daisy was meant to miss this chance. What was meant to happen was for her to pull her second period book from her locker and walk away. But that's not what happened. Today, Daisy decided to change her story as it was being written. Instead of turning left from her locker, she turned herself to the right. Staring directly at the pin board, she had no other choice but to read it.

Tacked at eye height with Daisy was a sign up form. What Daisy wanted was to not sign up. She wanted to go along with the original storyline and stay hidden as she scurried to her second class. Though this is what she wanted, and what was meant to happen; This is not what Daisy decided. She lifted her manly hands up to the pen which hung on a tainted-white string. Without contemplation, Daisy scribbled her name into one of the last remaining boxes on the page. She then adjusted the books under her arm and walked to her next class.

This is how Daisy broke her promise of hiding for the entirety of high school. She went off script, and signed herself up for the school play.

Nobody knew why Daisy wrote her name down on that sign up sheet. But whatever made her, it was solely at the consent of Daisy's mind. Nobody could control Daisy but Daisy. That is one thing Daisy liked about herself.

Walking home from school each day was a normal task for her. She did it as if it were breathing. Memorizing every turn, each bump and every bridge she had to cross. There is actually only one bridge she has to cross. There's actually only one bridge in the whole town. But unlike most of Daisy's classmates, she lived across the bridge where as most students lived right by the high school. Having to cross this bridge each day scarred the smell of the water into Daisy. She said hello to the boaters, who soon became her friends across the years.

Daisy decided that after her first day of high school, causing this one pivotal moment in her soon-exciting life, she wouldn't change a thing. She could have walked around the lake, or gotten a cab to take her home. She could have gone to her mother's work and waited outside until the sunset. Daisy, instead, decided that breathing in the damp air was her perfect idea of commemorating her first day.

Daisy was wrong.

She stepped onto the mossy wooden bridge. Creaks and cracks came from the underside of her floppy slip on shoes. As always, she ignored the sounds and continued to the middle of the bridge. Daisy did the same today as she did every other day. Dropping her nap sack to her feet, she relaxed her shoulders from loosing the weight. Her hands gripped onto the barrier. This stopped her from tumbling into the cold water beneath. Slowly, she tipped her head over her hands to see the fish. Daisy's short hair plopped over itself and covered her line of view. She lifted her hands to clear her line of sight to the fish. This was the first moment in Daisy's time on the bridge where something new happened.

She flipped the rogue hairs back behind her ears. As she cupped her ears to correct the placement of her hair, she heard the footsteps of someone who wasn't regularly on the bridge. She quickly tried to turn, but she came up unsuccessful. Before Daisy could say a word, she fell back first into the waters of the lake. Panicking for a moment, she inhaled deeply and flailed her arms. As you could probably tell, those two things are not a good combination when you are unexpectedly thrown into water. She touched the surface and her body involuntarily started coughing.

She made one last valiant effort to jump and, finally, her fingers grasped the edge of the bridge. Daisy hoisted herself on to the wood and laid motionless for a moment. The only thing you could see of Daisy was the heavy rise and fall of her chest. She tried to catch her breath as she leaned up. This was the last thing she expected to happen that day. Nothing ever happened to Daisy. She wasn't a "nobody", because even nobodies are noticed. Nobodies are the people you write hipster books about. Daisy wasn't anybody at all. She had no friends, she didn't excel yet she didn't fail. She never lost but she never won either. Daisy didn't wear bright colours and she didn't use any fancy words.

The question of the day, my friends, is: Who pushed Daisy?