Flowers Only Bloom in the Spring

Chapter 1

Helena stood in front of the full-length mirror, her expressionless face staring back at her with an unrelenting stare. She tugged at the bottom of her skirt, the only sign of the awkwardness that she felt on the inside, wishing that the skirt was longer or that she could have at least worn black tights to cover the still healing bruises that marred her knees. She could hear her father's voice calling her name from downstairs, the sounds of him puttering around in the kitchen echoing in the barely furnished house they were renting. She gave herself one last look, a crisp white, long sleeved, button down shirt with the school crest over her right breast. A simple black and gray striped bow-tie at the base of her neck, that was tucked perfectly against the small lapels of the collar; the shirt neatly tucked into the black and grey with red pinstripes plaid and pleated skirt that stopped an inch or so above her knee--in a very dignified and respectable way. A pair of plain black socks that hugged her calves perfectly, leading to a brand-new pair of black dress shoes that still had that store-bought shine to them. Sighing out gently and turning away from her reflection, grabbing her school bag along with her matching uniform's blazer from the end of her bed. Shouldering the strap of her bag, she left her room with the irritating squeaks of her new school approved shoes making her cringe as she shut her bedroom door. Taking the few steps across the hall to the bathroom, she flicked on the light as she dropped her bag in the doorway, the thud of her books silencing her father's calls instantly once he heard the noise. She draped her blazer over the back of the clean toilet and mindlessly went through the motions of brushing her teeth, combing her fingers through her hair and starting her morning off the same way she had always done it since she was in elementary school.
She caught the glimpse of her reflection once more and stared for a long moment, her dark blue eyes looking over every inch of her face before focusing on her mouth. Her pale pink, slightly cracked with dry skin, lips resting in a neutral position. There was nothing particularly special about her...well, except for the fact that she didn't smile nor show any emotion at all. She purposely found a way to keep a constant look of stoic disinterest since she was in middle school that now it just became completely natural to her. She tried to pull the corners of her lips into a resemblance of a smile, but it looked just how it felt--fake.
She ignored the swirling emotions of irritation quickly rising up in her stomach as she grabbed her things and flicked off the light before making her way down the stairs and to the kitchen, just down the hall to find her father bopping his head to some unheard song playing in his mind as he fixed himself instant coffee and breakfast. He turned, his mouth agape, no doubt about to call for her once more when he made an undignified sound of surprise at her presence and brought a hand to his chest. "Do you have to do that?" He scowled at her, coming closer to the small table tucked away in the corner from the left of where she was standing. "One of these days you're going to give me a heart attack."
"Is that my lunch?" Helena asked matter-of-factly as she glanced at the brown paper bag on the table closest to her. Her father sipped his coffee as he nodded, looking up at his daughter over the brim of the mug. She took the few steps to get to the table, grabbing the prepared lunch and swinging her bag to the front, clamping her blazer against herself as well as unzipping her bag so she could stuff the paper bag into it. Zipping the bag closed, she swung it back around her body, moving her blazer to her other arm as she found the other shoulder strap and shoved her arm through the space and shouldered it evenly. She looked up at her father catching his knowing glance and she sighed for the second time already for that day. "Yeah, yeah...I know."
"You know what?" The male narrowed his hazel eyes at her in the way that parents always did when they wanted you to just say what they wanted you to say.
"Try." Helena answered softly, lowering her gaze to the soft black dress shoes decorating her feet. She subconsciously tugged at the end of her skirt once more, feeling her father's gaze on her face.
"That's all that I ask of you, Helena." Her father murmured into his mug before he sipped more of the dark liquid. She hated the way he said her name like that. So... She couldn't really think of the right word to describe the way it sounded in her ears, but it made her nauseous. She nodded silently but showed no emotion. She turned to walk away but was called back to her father's attention, "Hel...forgetting something?"
She stopped short. Standing in the narrow hall for a moment before taking a breath and turning sharply to edge her way back into the kitchen, her eyes catching her father's, "I'll see you later. Love you." She could feel that pit in her stomach growing more with each word she spoke and he gave her a warm smile, before echoing back the words 'love you too' as she turned, just as sharply and left the house.