I'm Not Okay (I Promise) • Geetrick

16

---Gerard---

Sometimes I feel like certain moments will never end. They can get to be so slow and long and awkward and it makes me want to crawl away and forget about it.

This is one of these encounters.

Patrick wipes his tears as we continue down the gray sidewalk, trying to leave the conversation behind with each footstep. One foot in front of the other right beside me. The calm is actually somewhat comforting on this painful walk. One foot in front of the other. We're walking in sync and I can't help but wonder what is happening. Who is hurting Patrick? Do they really hurt him? What did they do? Make him do things he doesn't want to do? Threaten him? ... Abuse him...?

I don't want to think of the last one but as it sails through my mind I realize it's a possibility. A big possibility. He doesn't like talking about his family. He always gets nervous when he's almost home. Everything points to physical abuse. The flinching, the wincing, the fear. I'm scared that I'm going to somehow break the trust he already has with me and ruin everything. Why did I have to get so mad at Mikey? What's wrong with me? He probably hates me now, I shouldn't have said all those horrible things. I...

I can't think about that now. I have to talk to Dad soon and tell Patrick what really happened four years ago. I've trusted him so far, and he trusts me so... I need to. It's the right thing to do...

I stop in front of the flower shop. The faded oak wood sign at the front, hanging from two rusty chains. The sign reading, Thurman Floral Arrangements and Décor in soft, neat letters. Beside the sign are five different flowers in planters at the front of the shop, blocked off by the fence leading straight to the door of the small building.

The concrete turns to gravel as Patrick and I stroll to the door, the crunch of the sharp stones under foot is the only sound we can hear in the evening air. As I look back, I notice the sun is casting long shadows and bright light across the front of the building, golden rays lighting our way. Finally, I pull open the door, letting Patrick in first and following soon after.

It's a cozy shop, small but cozy. There's a fireplace in one wall with a brick chimney leading up and out of sight and bringing the smoke into the cloudy sky. The fire is warm, supporting the whole shop with its golden heat and the sound of crackling wood behind black metal bars.

There's a small, tan sofa by the fireplace and a smooth counter but otherwise the shop is almost completely empty, making the room look spacier than it really is. The walls are made of red brick and decorated with family photos of people holding bouquets. Some look extremely old and some look somewhat newer but I can tell they're all fairly aged. The oldest picture isn't even colored, it's black and white.

In it, a girl is holding a bouquet of lavender and bellflower, behind her are two women who I recognize as Uma and Miss Jackson (Nobody knew Miss Jackson's real name, it was lost, but people just call her Miss Jackson because it's an extremely generic last name). Both look to be in their thirties with light brown hair and expressionless faces, their hands interlocked. The girl in the front looks to be about eight or so, still a child and barely young enough to run the flower shop on her own but I know that ten years from then, she'd have everything down. Beside her is another girl who looks to be the same age but isn't holding a bouquet, I already know that they're sisters and they'd be the next ones to run the business. All four of them are wearing fancy, light colored dresses with ugly floral designs, which I guess was fashionable back then. Their hair is neat and prim with not a single stray in sight. The dark locks are straightened in such a way that the bottoms curl in at the end.

The next picture is in sepia, the eight-year olds from the last picture are now in their thirties and they're the ones holding hands while their children are in front of them. They look almost exactly the same but this time, the girl on the right has black hair instead of brown and their dresses look slightly better than the last picture.