Flowers on my doorstep

"The prettiest things are often the ones mended after being broke for so long"

"Sí Mami. Yes I know. Okay. Yes, listen I'll be fine. I promise." I spoke dismissively into the phone as my mother projected her worries. I was starting college a semester late, due to personal reasons and to be honest I wanted to start a new. In a new place, with new faces and names. I always believed in the kindness of strangers, so hopefully starting at a new college a quarter of the way through the year won't be too bad or too terrifying.

"Yes okay, mom. I promise. I'll speak to you later, I have to find my room now. Bye." I spoke down the phone wedged between my ear and shoulder as I carried a stack of heavy boxes in my arms up yet another flight of stairs to room number front the weight of the boxes between me and the doorframe I managed to pull out my key and unlock the new place I would soon be calling home.

It was nice enough. nothing to fancy, but definitely something I could work with. So after looking around I began to unpack my belongings. I wanted to make this dorm my own. The freedom was liberating, I finally had full control of my own life and I couldn't wait to get started on this new era. The past was in the past. I'm a new, stronger, person than I used to be.

So I pulled out my favourite blue beaded curtains for my bedroom door frame and hung it up nicely. It looked perfect. I had brought some others as well seeing as my had given me some graduation  money as a present. One of the beaded curtains I had brought was a lovely bright pink colour and I wanted to hang on the main door as you came in. I also had a red one and two purple ones but seeing as I had no more door frames to hang them on I tucked them back away safely.

I emptied the rest of the contents of my boxes and decorated my dorm. Seeing as I joined so late I didn't have a roommate which I was both disappointed and happy about, because I wasn't good at sharing confined spaces with other people.

I was born in Miami but my parents moved us to New York when I was five so I don't remember much of it, but I did remember more than my siblings Chris and Taylor, who were still back in New York and I missed them very much already, seeing as I was now back in Miami. I liked the idea of studying in Miami it was hot and everyone always seemed happy here, so after I got out of the hospital I vowed to live in Miami for a few years to study and to get away from the bad things in my life. My Dad thought it was good idea for me to go, but my mom not so much. She was scared something would happen to me, because 'I'm not like other kids'. I used to be, but not anymore and sometimes that made me angry, but I tried to be as nice to people as possible, because I didn't like it when people were horrible to me. Like she was. That's why my mom finally let me go, she wanted me to get away from her and so did I, because she scared me.

Anyway, it's been quite a long day for me so I decided to take a nap, because naps are good for me, because I get tired easily.

I awoke to later in the evening on my new bed, slightly confused, but then I remembered it was because I was in a new place. I was in Miami! I hadn't seen much of it yet, because I came directly here so I decided to go and explore it some more, but first I checked the time. It was 6:00pm, not that late really. So I climbed out of bed, changed my top, put on my shoes and made my way down the stairs. It was reasonably quiet except for a few hushed voices from where my map said the common room was. So I tracked down the hall, deciding to go in there later, when I saw a girl sat hunched over crying into the knees. I was going to ask her if she was okay, but then her friend came running along.

"OMG! I came as quick as I could. Are you okay?" The taller girl asked, rushing over and helping her friend to her feet. The brown haired girl looked really sad, but she still looked pretty. It was a pretty sad, because some people are pretty no matter what. Some people can be a pretty and happy, or pretty and angry, or pretty and funny, or pretty and mean but never pretty and violent, because violence isn't pretty and good things don't come of it. But this girl, she seemed to be the 'pretty and ...' type because she looked pretty even when she cried. I didn't.

"No," the pretty girl sniffed clingy onto her friend's shoulder sadly, "He stood me up Di, I really liked him and he...just didn't show."

"Walz, I'm so sorry. Come on let's get you inside." The girl with the beautiful caramel coloured skin said, easing her friend through the door way." But not before turning back and yelling at me. "Don't you have something better to do than stand there gaping?!"

Her harsh words made me flinch, but I told myself that it was okay, because she wasn't Lucy so she wouldn't hurt me. She was just angry. My mom told me people only ever got angry because they didn't understand. So I wanted her to understand that I wasn't trying to be mean I was just curious and new and...scared, because I wasn't good with people so I wanted to get her to understand and maybe that way she could be my friend.

I made my way out of the dorms and to the food courts and shops. Carefully counting my money I handed the lady the exactly the correct amount of cash and brought my pasta that came in a pot, before heading over to the flower stand where they were selling pretty little bouquets for charity. I brought some nice yellow and pink looking buds that hadn't bloomed yet because those were the best kind because you got to watch them grow and bloom. I then brought a small piece of card and a pen and proceeded to write a note on the card for the pretty, sad girl.

Dear Walz?
I am sorry you are sad. Boys are jerks.
Tears are horrid, but tears inflicted by others is even worse.
I hope this makes you smile
and
you know that the prettiest things are often the ones mended after being broke for so long.
You have a pretty heart, I can tell.

P.S Tell your friend I am sorry, I did not mean to be rude.
I was just worried.

I didn't know what to sign it because they didn't know who I was so it was pointless telling them my name right? How would they know where to find me? So I just put my room number. Twenty-seven, I then tucked the card into the small bouquet and finished eating my pasta, before heading back to my dorm to deliver the flowers. I was to anxious. to knock on the door and deliver them in person so I put the flowers on the doorstep, knocked and then walked away....quickly. Really quickly, I didn't want to be caught by them, because then I'd have to talk and I wasn't to good at that.