The Garden Of Secrets

Celine

The day is long, cold, full of rain, and Poppy's groveling. "Does the rain know it's bad for business?!" Her exasperated yell comes from the backroom, piercing the suffocating silence. "I don't know Poppy why don't you write an email and let them know of your issues with rain" I chid back, sarcasm dripping from my voice. She pokes her head from the door frame, her elegant golden hair piled on top of her head and small curly tendrils frame her heart-shaped face, her lips forming a thin line. "Wait you can actually..." She trails off hearing my sarcasm and rolls her eyes. "Very funny Cel..." She sounds irritated, but I know she isn't. "awe Pops come on, I was joking-" "No, you were being a sarcastic smart alec" she cuts me off, as per usual. "Smart ass" I correct, which makes her huff...she hates when I correct her, so yes I do it a lot. I giggle as she disappears back into the room, the little anger she had long forgotten now that she's already groveling over the rain, again, and some flower order she can't seem to get right.

I sigh when she disappears, the silence resumes, which leaves me with my thoughts again. It doesn't how long ago it happened, the day my mom told me about the wolfsbane in the garden never strays far from my mind, it's like its engrained there, or that's what it seems like anyway. The rain starts to fall harder, Poppy groans again hearing it and grumbles something I don't hear all that well. At this rate, we won't have any customers for the next few hours, this gives me time to go to the greenhouse. I slowly stand from the chair, which squeaks as if it's thanking me for getting up, I snort at the thought. "You're welcome, I didn't like sitting for so long if it helps," I think I've officially lost my mind. I'm talking to a chair. Is this what rock bottom is like? Talking to furniture, next thing ya know I'm gonna be talking to the tv or thinking there's a root army after me...what has my life come to?

I sigh and quietly skit passed the room Poppy is working in, I'd rather not get lectured on disturbing her work again. I shake my head remembering the last lecture I got, It felt like an eternity till she shut up, and then reminded me of it for the next month. I shake my head at the distant, faded yet very clear memory and open the door going into the greenhouse. The smell of fresh potting soil, rain, and various flowers fill my senses. I relax within seconds of being in this place, it's like my sanctuary if you will. I feel safe here amongst the rows and rows of various flowers and herbs. I feel like I'm home like the greenhouse is my home, I grew up here after all. After my dad disappeared this place was all I had left to remember him, all trace of him was gone from the house, his clothes, all his shoes, his pictures, his photograph books, all the flower magazines we used to go through. It was all gone like he never existed, however, one thing was still there after it all. His bow and arrows. I was the one to find it, with a small note that said, "those who wander are not lost". I used to sit for hours and trace his curvy, loopy handwriting on the paper. I used to, correction; always have been amazed at how his hand could produce such beautiful letters and numbers. He would write letters to couples who used our flower shop at their weddings, and each time he did, I would sit on the table in front of him and watch as his hand moved gracefully across the paper. He always wrote the notes in a fountain pen, that's the only time he would ever use that pen, grievously even that pen was gone too. But I still have the note, I keep it tucked in a locket I wear around my neck, and at this moment, I find myself taking it from the silver locket and holding it in my hands, staring down at it. Tears kiss my eyes then slowly slide their way down my cheeks. I choke back a sob, staring at the paper in front of me, and the small area on the left-hand corner that's covered in tape, and under the tape is a single blossom of Wolfsbane.

I've never been able to figure out why he had put Wolfsbane in the letter, maybe a clue? Or a map type thing? Maybe he thought I would turn out smarter than I am and I would be able to figure out what he left for me, I'm already failing him. Or...maybe it's supposed to lead me to someone...who knows where he is.

I shake my head to clear it. I've spent months thinking, maybe overthinking, how to find my father. When I thought I had a lead, I would stay up nights on end and only to find myself on yet another wild goose chase. "Don't waste your time on a hopeless cause." The voices of my family ring through my head, they don't believe or hope my father will return to us. They think he's a lost cause. I think otherwise. I think he's out there, alone, maybe scared. Maybe hurt. Anything is possible, I firmly believe that, so why not believe my father can come home? A hand on my shoulder pulls me from my thoughts, I startle and turn around. "Miss? Are you okay? I was hoping you could help me with something."

{ hey my loves! I'm so so so sorry it's  been so long! Life has been crazy and my writers block has been paining me for weeks! Hopefully I will be able to upload more often! Thanks for reading! Much love! <3 }