Seashells

I

Daffodil
20th December 1944

What's the meaning of life? It's not like we'll be here forever. Why do we spend our time working so hard, when it could all be taken away from us in less than a second? What is the point of it all?

These thoughts rarely cross Daffodil's mind - and you'd think they would, especially within the head of someone like herself. But, she never really gave much depth to these thoughts before. She'd never really cared; always living in the moment.

And she doesn't know how, or why, these thoughts seem to be in her head now, of all the times they could've been there. She had assumed it was because, a week prior, she had just witnessed her mother's casket being laid six feet under.

But there was a small inkling within the hidden depths of her mind, something telling her that this wasn't just a consequence of an action - it was more like a revelation.

Sometimes she feels like her life has become one giant, downward spiral; being at the top for so long, but as soon as one tiny thing falls out of place, everything goes down with it. Like an endless pathway of traumatising events making their way into her life, bit by bit. Like never-ending agony that just won't stop.

You never think you've taken things for granted, until you hit rock bottom. You never know what it feels like to have nothing, until you do. You'll never really feel for those who are lonely, until you are lonely yourself. You can act like you care, you can pretend that you care, but you'll never know how it truly feels to believe in nothing - till you have nothing.

And once you have nothing, you just become a void - empty, dull, bleak, nothing.

"Do you believe in heaven, Daffodil?" Father Davis asks, giving her an intense glare as if to say 'Why are you here if you don't?'.

Daffodil was forced into attending weekly mass by her mother when she was just a young child.

And this brought her back to the question that had gone unanswered for many years: Why would Daisy Harbourshire force her daughter into faith when her public image had the least bit to do with it?

Daffodil's mother was a fashion designer - quite a well-known one too. She created her own company from scratch, without anybody's help, and started with not even a penny to her name. Her feat was quite admirable to her daughter and Daffodil even looked up to her ambitious attitude sometimes - but that didn't erase how she was behind doors.

Sure, Daisy Harbourshire was a great mother. She always looked out for her daughter and always made sure she had everything she needed. Daffodil appreciated this side of her mother, she truly did. But, it was the other side of her that had her puzzled.

The side of Daisy Harbourshire that never seemed right in her daughter's mind. The part of her mother that would force her to devote herself to her faith. The mother that had almost impossible expectations that her daughter be the image of perfection; mentally, emotionally, and physically.

Daffodil was lucky - in a way - she didn't have to be in the public eye like her mother had been. It's not like Daffodil was ever in anyone's "eye" either.

Anytime the press would come over or whenever her mother had an interview to tend to, she would always be told to stay in the home until her mother had gotten back - or to stay away from where her mother was supposed to be for the day.

The decision to keep her hidden, locked away, a secret from the outside world, had been decided before Daffodil was even born. Not to say that she couldn't step foot outside of her own home; no, she had been to plenty of places without anyone's company.

They just couldn't know that Daisy had a daughter.

Daffodil took a moment to think, unsure of her answer for the question the Father had posed.

'I don't know' happens to be the only answer that forms in her mind. But, she couldn't possibly say that to Father Davis. He'd judge her wrongly; he'd think she was some sort of damned soul, who should never set foot in a Church again.

"Yes, Father Davis," Daffodil replied, beaming up at him, brightly smiling.

She's not sure why she bothers to go to Church anymore. It's more like something she does subconsciously than anything else; as a way to connect with her mother.

Living with her was hell, which is why Daffodil finds it hard to comprehend how much she misses her.

Pushing these thoughts aside is something she often tries to do. But they always find their way back to her - a little nagging sensation within her mind that just won't stop no matter how many times she tells it to.