Dance of Life and Death

Chapter 1

Daffodil Evergreen sat alone in her room, listening to music as the sun began to set. Well, perhaps she wasn't quite alone. Every now and then, she turned to her side and smiled, whispering a question to something unseen, responding to something unheard. The name "Gladiolus" could be deciphered from the unintelligible mumbling of the girl sitting quietly alone in her room.

Maybe she was talking to herself? Maybe she was directing her thoughts to a personification of something else, in order to better understand them? Perhaps she wasn't as sane as she appeared.

Mother and father huddled together behind the door, faintly hearing the strange, one-sided conversation their daughter was having with the empty room. Worry creased their brows, both hoping that perhaps she had brought a boy home without their knowledge. Their Daffodil never acted out once in her life, never was a problem for her dear parents, but still they always feared for her. If she was misbehaving, they could easily do something to stop such a thing, but if she was not sound in the mind...

They have already tried counseling countless times and there was no medication that seemed to apply to her symptoms. 

Eventually, they heard their daughter rise from her seat and make her way over to the door. Silently, they stood and took their leave, planning on making another call to the family doctor.

---

When I was a little girl, I never questioned the girl who always seemed to follow me. I always thought she was my older sister, though she didn't seem to talk very much with Mom and Dad. Then, when I was five, I addressed her at the dinner table. She never sat down with us, nor did she seem to eat when we did, and I wanted to know why.

"Aren't you going to sit down and eat with us, Gladdie?" I remember to this day the face she made when I mentioned her nickname that I gave her, how she looked to the man and woman who sat next to me.

At first they thought I was joking. "Who is Gladdie, hun?" Mother chuckled when I gave her an incredulous look. 

"She's big sis, you know that!"

My answer seemed to catch them off guard slightly. "Daff, you don't have a sister," my father tried hesitantly. My mother nudged his arm and shook her head.

"It's obviously her imaginary friend, Hank. You heard what John and his wife said about encouraging her imagination," she scolded under her breath, thinking I couldn't hear her. I never questioned Gladiolus' existence before, and my mind immediately rejected it.

"No, Mom, she's real! She's standing right behind you, can't you tell?"

She gave me a sad little smile and looked to where my friend was standing. Gladdie was staring out the window until I mentioned her position, and she looked back at me with tears in her eyes. My face fell at her apparent grief.

"What does she look like, honey?"

"Well, she has long black hair, and she's wearing a white dress with a dark blue ribbon. Her eyes..." I paused, watching as the tears fell freely. "Her eyes are a shiny blue, like little stars. And her skin is really pale, like a doll's. Her lips are a dark red, and she has diamond earrings on. Oh, and she can fly!"

"Oh! I see her now." 

I stared shocked at my mother, then triumphant. Gladdie seemed just as amazed, the waterfall slowing to a stop for a moment. "See? Told ya she's real!" I shined a brilliant smile at my friend.

Suddenly, my mom stuck her hand out and closed it around an imaginary fist. "It's nice to meet you, Gladdie. You look very pretty tonight." 

I was confused, but the topic was dropped when my dad asked why there were still peas on my plate and I responded by sticking out my tongue.

Later that night, as I lay awake in the dark, Gladiolus next to me. "Why can't they see you, Gladdie?"

"Well, Daffodil, nobody but you can." She leaned forward to kiss my forehead. "I'm not really here."

"What do you mean?" She was right in front of me, telling me she wasn't. What?

"I mean I'm not really alive." She said it with such a calmness and quiet acceptance that I wasn't alarmed by the strange words. "I died a long time ago, Daff."

"So...are you haunting me?"

Her gentle, cheerful laughter rang like a bell in the silent room. A single tear spilled out of her eye onto the pillow, without ever touching it. "Oh, Daffodil, you silly girl. I'm not haunting you, I don't think. Haunting sounds like I would be scaring you. I think I'm..." Gladiolus was quiet for a moment.

"What is it?"

"I think we would be something called, 'Joined.'"

The quiet somberness of he voice and the wet trail of her tear reminded me of those she shed earlier. "Gladdie, can I ask you something else?"

"Sure, Daff."

"Why were you crying?"

She was quiet for a moment. "You mean during dinner?"

"Yeah."

She thought for a while, memories surfacing in her eyes. Finally, she decided on an answer. "I was trying not to laugh so hard it hurt. You were so funny earlier."

We giggled, and saying goodnight, I turned away from her. 

I knew she was lying even then.