The Girl with the flower crown

Chapter 1

All morning long, Daphne thought about the horrors that await her in school. Would someome beat her up today? Yes. Would they call her names? Yes. Was that an every day conquest for the fifteen year old? Yes. When having to go to school or even going to the bakery, glares would be shot her way, seeping through her, in a way that she would think that no bullet would ever kill.   

She knew the bus would come soon as she took a cool shower in her bathroom, but she wanted to bathe in the unstressful moments that she had in her small sanctum.    

Her bathroom was so small that if you outstretched your hands, you could touch both walls.    

She dried her hair that faded from black to pink, with a towel while she held the other peach, chest-wrapped towel by her elbows.   

 Normally, she would take thirty minutes to stare at her self in the mirror, telling herself no one could ever love a face like this -only a mother (but, of course, her mother was gone). today was the exception as she bellowed past the mirror, too worn out from crying the night before; Daphne could barely lift her eyes to face the reflective glass.  

The outfit she had thrown together was simple - unlike her. It consisted of black skinny jeans with a top that showed her belly button piercing. Her lips slightly twitched upwards as she traced the tattoo on her left forearm.  

It was a reminder of her best friend that had died in a car crash. Her friend, whom she nicknamed, Victory, knew how to cheer Daphne up when she was feeling down. She was Daphne's everything and she had passed on the two year anniversary  of her aunts suicide mission. It seems as if certain days of the year weren't as "lucky" as the rest.  

Twelve year old old Victory wasn't driving that day, of course; she was with her redundant parents who were 

1. too drunk to drive and 

2. didn't know how to drive.

 A car came from the side and hit them, crushing the car and Victoria against the guardrail and stone mountain in the process. She had more than one-third of her broken and mangled.  

Such a little girl couldn't have possibly survived that pain, especially when no one reported it for hours. It was a hit-and-run on a deserted road in the middle of the night. Daphne was sure that no one could survive that.   

The fragile girl made her way through her cramped apartment that she worked two jobs to pay for it. She had bandaged her cuts and stopped tracing her tattoo.   

She walked down the creaky stairs as it spiraled.    She looked down as some people in the complex took pity on others, mostly the homeless. But she was also the concentration of their glares, since everyone knew her story, one that would always stay with her and haunt her.   

The old woman at the desk glanced at her with more than a look of distaste, but the girl with the flower crown took no note of the woman as her head hung low.  

As she exited the unstable structure, her eyes caught a glimpse of a homeless man, laying on a bench with a sign that read "Traded everything up for love". She walked up to his sleeping, homeless self and tapped his shoulder.  

His eyes sprung open as he darted up. "I promise. Please don't arrest me. I was about to leave..." He pleaded as he had already collected his cardboard sign. He never once looked at her to confirm her identity.  

Her heart felt heavy as those words left the poor man's mouth. The stranger had shoulder length, long, stringy hair that was thick with dirt and mud; his clothing had suffered the wore and tore of his travels.  

A while back, the town's companies had suffered a major losses for the year, therefore resulting in a horrendous amount lay-offs. She was guessing that he had been layed off for at least two months now.  

Without saying a word, she slid her backpack off her shoulder and reached in, pulling out a blueberry muffin. The man eyed the muffin curiously, as she reached her hand out to him, offering the delectable pastry .   

"Take it please. It's all I can give you, along with this..." she reached in her pocket and pulled out thirty dollars - all that she had earned that month for the rent.   

As the day came to pay up, she had felt two things: Guilt, and Betrayal . When paired together, they make an ugly team.  

The man embraced her in a hug. Warmth entering her body as it had been months, almost years, since somebody has shared their sweet embrace with her.   

Daphne, hesitantly, pulled her arms up and wrapped them around the man. He pulled back and smiled, "Thank you so much. No one has ever been this kind to me."   

"Me neither." She faintly smiled.  

He grabbed the charity and began chewing the muffing, sitting back down on the bench. As for the money, he shoved it inside of his holey jeans.    

"What's your name?" She asked, sitting next to him and crossing her legs.    "Orion, but you can call me onion if you like." They both cracked a  smile at his joke.    "What's your's, beautiful miss?" She blushed at the man who was in his late twenty's.

  "Daphne Charm."   

"I think I'll call you lucky charms."   

This man was different to Daphne than other people.  He didn't care what she looked like; he didn't call her names. He even saw her wrist, but not a word escaped his mouth about it.   They sat on the bench talking, until she realized that her bus would be arriving any second now.  

Annoyed, she told the man her good byes, and started to run towards the sign with kids her age underneath -  the ones that couldn't give two shits about her, even if they could.   

As the strange girl leaned against the metal pole, all she heard was the whispers of those who blamed her for everything, ever since the first day.  

 She twisted her father's gold wedding band around her right ring finger and adjusted the white flowers that sat upon her head. With her time, she could only stress about her life. Daphne Charm knew fate put her exactly where it wanted her to be, but she couldn't help but think 'to hell with fate'.  

She closed her eyes and the flashbacks appeared in her mind; retells of the first time she met Victory, and the memory of her death.  It had such and affect on her that her chest grew heavy and her breathing accelerated.   

She opened her eyes just in time to see the yellow bus to pull up and open the doors with a loud squeaking noise, almost too unbearable for the plain ear. But she was accustom to loudness since she blasts music in her ears.  

Daphne gripped her backpack tighter, as she waited for everyone to get in. When the coast was clear, she stepped onto the bus and went slowly up the stairs, looking down, fore none of the horrid looks could make her feel worse than she already felt.   

As soon as both feet were on the platform, the driver pulled close the doors and took off sending Daphne flying towards the back of the bus. It didn't felt that people left her foot in the aisle. Thankfully, she grasped a seat with both hands and refrained herself from busting through the back of the bus.  

She moved her arms forward towards the seat with every step she took to keep her balance. Once situated upright, the girl with the flower crown sat in the empty seat she held on to, setting her back pack beside her and resting her head against the window as it started to drizzle.

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