Daisies

They stare at me for a moment before the woman, no my mother, lets out a strangled sound resembling a sob before running over to my side and burying her face into my neck, wrapping her long arms around me. I try hard not to cringe and awkwardly pat her on the back. This touch, this comfort, is so unfamiliar to me. In the very far corner of my mind, I want to go back into the white room, and let the tears fall into my eyes, and hold the daisies to my chest. To be alone, to be away from this pain, to let the daisies be my comfort.

Wait. Where are the daisies?

And then I remember, that they died, and that I died. But then why am I alive now? Perhaps the daisies are alive as well.

"Where are the daisies?" My voice sounds dull and clogged, emotionless.

It's funny, the strange kind of funny that makes you stop and wonder. This is the most emotion I have experienced in so long.

The woman pulls away from me and wipes at the corners of her eyes, a ridiculously huge smile on her face. She then seems to realize what I had said, and shares a glance with the boy, who is standing off to the side, his face a mixture of disbelief and smothered happiness.

"The daisies." I am growing impatient now.

The woman thinks for a moment, surprised that I would demand such an answer. Then she remembers. They share another glance, and the boy's eyes lift up to meet my own. He blinks, and it shatters something in my heart, something like ice. I feel strangely warm, curiously free. I don't like it.

"We... we threw them out just earlier today. How did you know that we bought you some daisies, dear?" I can tell that she considers the flowers unimportant, her fingers itching to embrace me again. Love, it's such a silly thing. Can she not tell that I love the daisies?

I smile. They did die, their lifespan much shorter than mine. But I was confused, my lifespan had been just as short, and now I know that it is not true. They look at me expectantly, tenderly. They think I am insane. Maybe I am.

"The daisies are everything. They are the symbol, the sign, the life, the beauty, the torture, the tears, and the death. They were small, like a child, but they were everything. Can you not understand?"

This time their gazes turn sympathetic. They know I am insane.

I sigh and my eyes flicker down to the ground. It is a white linoleum.

Then my curiosity spikes up, and I remember. Where is this place? Where is the white room? Is this in my mind, or was the white room in my mind?

"What happened?"

They share another glance. So many glances, so many emotions, so many meanings. This is when the boy steps forward, his eyes smoldering with unshed tears and his face bright with hope, the hope that had replaced his will to hope. They seem to have forgotten about the daisies.

"Libby, you were in a coma for two years. Do you remember the crash?"

I do remember at that exact moment. The world turns hazy and I feel like I am falling, falling through nothingness. There is the sound of a song playing on the radio, me shielding my eyes with one hand as I try to see past the intersection. Tires squeal in protest and I feel a single second of panic as a metallic noise echoes throughout the empty highway. Crunching, banging, sparks fly.

These sparks are flying into my mind.

My eyes flutter before I look up into another pair of eyes. I am remembering more and more with every second.

I finally remember the boy's name. I know who he is now, he is my lover. I feel a trill rise within my chest as I realize that he waited by my side for two years while I lay unconscious, his tired eyes and sagging skin equal to the pale aftermath of sleep, not death, but sleep.

I had somehow awoken, and I may never know why. But I can guess that it had something to do with daisies. Or maybe the mirror, the little mirror from my dreams. Or maybe the pillowcase, that had cleansed me, the pillowcase that had been thrown out the window. The window. I wonder what would have happened had I looked out of it, had I jumped out of it. Maybe then I would have truly died.

"Luke..." I look up into his eyes again, the tears finally aching to be set free. "I love you."

We kiss. And then I remember everything.

I return to my normal self, but something is still off about me, and probably will always be. I rejoice at this discovery, this finding of my old life that had been ruined. That instant then, that was when I truly woke up. That was when I found myself again.