then: she was a woman with no solidarity, living in a world that had already forgotten the color of her eyes. no one ever came to visit. no one ever cried for a girl who loved and gave too much. they'd taken her love and let it die on their tongues. she was sweet, they'd say. but that was all she was. a sweet girl who lived for flowers, spurred on by colors that entrapped her mind until it was too late to tell her that this wasn't where she belonged.
but the flower shop on the corner of the town was all that she had.
(it was all she had until it wasn’t.)
home: it was made of cream walls that had vines on them from plants that had grown far too big to sell. it was made of wood that creaked against the drumming of the rain. it was dusty, yet the sun made sure to say hello each morning. she remembered it then, how the sun was the only one to come say goodbye when her body ached too much to say hello back.
then: she watched as her mother cried herself to sleep, abandoning the one thing that had brought her joy. now she felt something harsh tug against the strings of her violin, strumming a song that no could longer bring vibrancy back into those four cream colored walls. all she could do was watch when her mother cried herself to sleep for the last time. all she could do was hope that she'd be reunited with her, feel the warmth of her mother's touch on her skin. but it never happened. jieun had stayed, watching as her home withered just as her mother once did, but now she was truly alone. now she had no one but the company of dead flowers and a sun that had long forgotten her.
now: she twitched, opening her eyes at the light that blinded her. in front of her was a silhouette of a petite girl walk cautiously into her home. she believed her eyes were playing tricks on her. perhaps someone was going to take her home and make it theirs. but the girl paused then started walking closer until jieun could see the outlines on her face. her smile was so pretty, and she didn't know what to do when she opened her mouth and spoke as though she could see her.
She never would've thought that she truly did see a girl long forgotten.
"Are you the owner?" jieun paused, unsure of what to say. it had to be some sort of twisted joke by the gods watching her. they must’ve been laughing at her misfortune. "You have such a pretty flower shop. I couldn't help but come in." if the girl was lying, jieun was unable to tell. the look of genuine curiosity was far too strong in her round eyes to be telling anything but the truth.
"I'm the owner's daughter." She finally replied slowly, imagining what the girl could possibly see in a home that had been wrecked by time and nature. She could hardly believe she was real, but the girl could see and speak to her as though she was. Was this her redemption? "Jieun."
"Hyeri," She smiled widely. her eyes were twinkling, shining as the light hit her face that made her skin glow and the apples of cheeks turn pink. "I'd like to learn more about flowers. Would you help me?"
she fought the chaos that ravaged her head, glancing down at her hands to see if she was truly there. There had to be something she was missing. a link in a chain that had broken off, and that was why she was here: drowning in time as though it was her creator.
“Yes.” But she was desperate for any sort of interaction, even if it meant not understanding the entirety of who she was. even if she let the chaos take over and let the wreckage seep into the ground beneath her. she’d let the chaos plant its seed if it meant she could grow with it.
1 of 2 for @inhyelation, a story of a flower shop on the corner where the sun once set.
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jieun was a mess of pieces connected together by red twine. it was flimsy and could easily be broken, but she lingered and crept across the shop as though she had never left. as though she had nothing to lose. she pretended for hyeri, so she saw the beautiful flowers hyeri saw and told her all she wanted to know. from the tales of forgotten women and the pleas of men in love, she told her all the things she knew from fear of being left behind.
I never wanted you to leave, she whispered to the particles of dust that lingered thickly in the air when the rusted bell sung off tune and echoed through the room with withered flowers and forgotten footsteps. but it is unfair to have you here.
“Hyeri, come here for a moment.” the girl peered up from where she was watering the flowers, smiling softly as she left the watering pot on the ground and walked over. her footsteps made indentations to the dust on the ground, the only indication to jieun that she was ever truly here. There’s a tense look on jieun’s face, one that matched the grim smile that she gave in a silent plea for some sort of reassurance that she was more than just a passing wind.
“What’s the matter?” her concern was admirable. it brought life to the dead ends that jieun seemed to always walk into, breaking the walls to make a way for her. it made her feel alive, but she knew that hyeri only saw the ghost of who she once was. yet she had found her, and the warmth of her hand touched her ice cold hands and melted it.
“Are you okay with this place?” She glanced around. the entire shop was filtered out in grey, and not even the smile on hyeri’s face could bring life back into it for her. all she saw was the shadow of the image hyeri saw, and it was as though she saw nothing and less. “It’s okay here?”
“It’s more than that.” Hyeri’s smile was wider now, and her hand squeezed hers. “You’re here with me.”
night: they say when you die the grim reaper greets you with a sinister smile, but he had walked into the room, clothed in all black, and smiled sadly at the girl sitting by herself with nothing to hold her to this world.
yet she couldn’t leave.
“You’ve finally come for me?” she peered into his grey eyes, watched as he gazed around the shop as though he’d seen what it was before it all died with her mother.
“Not yet,” He whispered, “You’ve much to learn about the world you left prematurely.”
“Are you always this kind?” perhaps this was his own form of punishment. it was cruel in her eyes that hyeri could see all the flowers she loved, yet she could no longer see them for what they were. His smile turned into a thin line because he knew, somewhere in that unbeating heart of hers, that there was a beat that still needed to drum one last time.
“I’ll come fetch you when it’s time.” He waltzed over to the broken marigolds, plucked it up into his hand, and she watched as the dried petals fled onto the dusted floorboards. “For now, learn a little more. Love a little more.”
“Is that possible?”
“The world tells you I don’t exist, but I’m here.” he sighed, taking three steps to get to where she was. she hadn’t expected him to watch her as tears fell from her eyes. she reached out for his hand, afraid of the coldness that came from them because it had matched her own. He let her take the withered marigold from his grasp, watching as she pulled her arms close to her chest.
“do you know what marigolds are for?” He didn’t make a move to say a word. instead he frowned because he had known far longer than she was ever alive. “Some people use them to celebrate the dead, but what is death if it isn’t final?”
unfair and cruel to children like us.
morning: it rose as the sun kissed the horizon, but the tall buildings had blocked the sun from entering the shop. the sun had forgotten to say hello, unable to see that jieun was still here. she was invisible to the world, but the world had never loved her the way she did.
“flower for your thoughts?” Hyeri held out a withered daisy, a wide smile on her face. “I picked the prettiest one for you. I saw it on my way here.”
it was then that jieun realized that everything that entered the shop would wither just as her mother’s flowers did. death was in the air, yet hyeri could see none of it. sometimes jieun wondered if the girl was a figment of her own imagination, but she was desperate for anything to keep her company.
“Thank you.” she hid the wince on her face as best she could, but the strained words were too rough, too harsh to be anything but discomfort. Hyeri looked at her with concern, a soft ‘are you all right?’ leaving her lips and all she could do was give her a ghost of a smile.
“I’m all right.” She held the flower in her hand, setting it down on the counter that separate the two of them from one another. “Would you like to know more about daisies?”
night: there were nights that were harder than others, nights where she cursed at the moon and threw the vases that held the flowers to the ground. they shattered in a chaotic muteness, her screams overpowering the clash of fragile material and the ground.
it had taken so much energy to pretend for her, draining all that she was and reduced her to an even more transparent version of herself. she fell unceremoniously to the ground with her hands on her stomach, sweat causing strands of her hair to press against her forehead. her chest heaved up and down, but the thumping in her chest did not drum in her ears as they would have if she was still a part of something greater.
she was lesser now.
“It isn’t fair.” She whispered, pressing her palms against her eyelids. “Why can’t I leave?”
She was so cold now. not from the wind that crept in from the broken windows, but the warmth of her body had disappeared. nothing made her warm, and perhaps it was a reason why she held hyeri’s hand for longer than she should have. but her hands had been so warm, so full of life, that she almost missed being real.
that she almost missed being greater.
“Jieun?” The bell twinkled, ringing in her ears as she glanced from the ceiling and toward the entrance that had been to her right. The girl was by her side in an instant, frantically looking at whatever it was that was on her. “Are you okay? What happened to the shop?”
“Can I hold your hand?” Jieun reached up, her hand moving from her stomach and toward hyeri to grab hold onto something that would make sense. She had made sense, but the the look on her eyes told her that something that broken in her. “Your hand, Hyeri. Please.”
The girl stuttered, too unsure of what was happening, but she had obliged her request. Her hand had made her feel warm, pushing the cold into the depths of a place she would know of soon, but for now it was all she needed to understand. “Can I do anything to help?”
“This is enough.” Jieun smiled at the girl, watched as tears fell from her cheeks that almost reminded her of the way her mother looked at her all that time ago. “Rest with me, Hyeri.”
the brokenness of the shop meant nothing. though it had torn her apart, it was her home now.
Morning: Hyeri woke to the sun hitting her face. it made her wince, unsure of how the sun could have ever blinded her with the buildings that kept the shop in the shade. When her eyes adjusted, she glanced around the shop to see what she had seen the night before: dust collected floorboards, broken windows, and withered flowers. the colorful pop of the shop was no longer here, and all she saw was grey.
“I wanted to stay until you were awake.” She heard the voice from behind her, turning to see jieun lay with a mysterious smile on her face. it wasn’t like the smiles before before. no, these were real. these were hers.
“Was this what you saw when I came here?” Jieun nodded, and it was all she had to do for hyeri to break down.
“Why are you crying?”
“Doesn’t it hurt?” She smiled, cold hand on top of hers, stealing her warmth in some attempt to remember it when she was gone. she wondered if this was the time for her to be strong for hyeri, her chance to be greater to someone rather than something.
“Not anymore.” She could feel it in her bones. she felt lighter, slowly becoming part of the air that not even hyeri’s keen eyes could find her in the smoke. jieun finally understood why the sun stopped greeting her. how can the sun greet what isn’t there? “Sorry I won’t be able to greet you anymore and tell you about the flowers.”
2 out of 2 for @inhyelation, she writes to you when she’s gone.
