Daises
1/1
“You have to promise me that we’ll make this the best summer ever, okay?” Nick Jonas could practically hear Fiorella’s eager voice, making him hold out his pinky and swear that they would make it the best summer ever. He had promised her that they would, and they had tried their best. They had spent every moment that they could together. Between her doctor appointments and his press conferences it wasn’t much time, but they tried.
Every time he saw her, she had daisies with her. The simple white flowers were always in her hair or in her hands, making a crown of white for him. They often spent time in the small field that connected both of their homes, where the daises were in abundance. He would find her sitting out in the field, her pale hands weaving the daisy stems in and out of each other, connecting and interweaving them. She would turn when she heard him walk up, beaming brightly, patting the place next to her. He would sit and marvel at her skill and wonder how someone who couldn’t see knew how to make daisy crowns.
She hadn’t been born blind, he learned. She had begun to lose her sight when she was eight by some disease that had a long and complicated name she didn’t like saying. She was fifteen now, the same age as Nick.
“I remember what this place looks like. At least, I know what it used to look like. Does it look the same?” She would ask him, her bright green eyes covered in a milky film staring up at where she thought he was. He would tell her that it was still the same field, covered in daisies like she knew. She would smile, nodding.
“Good,” She would say, her fingers nimbly connecting the flowers, “I like that.” He used to tease her that she would run out of flowers, but she would always smile slightly and shake her head.
“I doubt that. I’ll be gone before the daisies are.” She would say quietly, but firmly, as if she were trying to convince herself that everything would be okay. Nick hated hearing her say that, but he knew she was right. The field was full of daisies and the doctors hadn’t given her much time.
“I’m not upset. I’ll be able to see soon enough.” Fiorella would say, smiling with hope lighting up her lips and her eyes. Nick would be thankful for her lack of sight in those moments, because it allowed him to wipe away the tears that threatened to form.
That was how they spent their days together, always sitting in the field, her making daisy chains, him staring out at the horizon, talking about anything and everything. There would be moments where he would forget what was going to happen and it would be like he and his best friend were going to live forever and show the world how amazing they were, and then he would look over at her and her cloudy eyes and be jolted back into reality. Nick hated reality.
He could remember the day as if it had just happened. He had walked out to the field, hands buried deep in his jacket pockets because the summer was turning into a chilly fall. He couldn’t find her anywhere. He searched the field before running back to her house; the worst running through his mind and making his blood run cold. He flew through the door, running up the stairs to her room. She was lying on the bed, her chest rising and falling raggedly, like she was having trouble breathing. Her eyes drifted around the room as if she was able to see something no one else could. He said her name quietly, alerting her to his presence. She turned her head, her eyes drifting towards where his voice came from.
“You came.” She said quietly, smiling slightly. “I was afraid you wouldn’t find me.”
“Ella, please, stay,” Nick said, moving forward to the bed, sitting next to her. She smiled again, shaking her head.
“I can’t do that, Nick. I have to go now. Don’t be sad. I’ll see again. I’ll be happy.” She reached out and he took her small hand in his. She squeezed it lightly.
“Goodbye, Nick.”
“Goodbye, Fiorella.” He didn’t try to wipe away the tears this time as he felt her grip loosen and her chest stopped rising, falling for the last time as she let out her last breath with a smile on her lips and her eyes towards the sky.
They buried her in the field behind their houses. Both the Archer family and the Jonas family came to the funeral, along with all of the people she knew and loved. They lowered her casket into the ground and those who wished to could walk up to the casket and throw in flowers. Nick carefully walked forward, holding a single daisy in his hand.
“I hope everything is as beautiful as you wanted it to be.” He said quietly, letting the daisy fall six feet into the ground, landing on top of her black coffin, the white flower contrasting against the dark surface. He stepped back, sending a silent prayer that God would let her be able to look at everything she ever imagined.
Every time he saw her, she had daisies with her. The simple white flowers were always in her hair or in her hands, making a crown of white for him. They often spent time in the small field that connected both of their homes, where the daises were in abundance. He would find her sitting out in the field, her pale hands weaving the daisy stems in and out of each other, connecting and interweaving them. She would turn when she heard him walk up, beaming brightly, patting the place next to her. He would sit and marvel at her skill and wonder how someone who couldn’t see knew how to make daisy crowns.
She hadn’t been born blind, he learned. She had begun to lose her sight when she was eight by some disease that had a long and complicated name she didn’t like saying. She was fifteen now, the same age as Nick.
“I remember what this place looks like. At least, I know what it used to look like. Does it look the same?” She would ask him, her bright green eyes covered in a milky film staring up at where she thought he was. He would tell her that it was still the same field, covered in daisies like she knew. She would smile, nodding.
“Good,” She would say, her fingers nimbly connecting the flowers, “I like that.” He used to tease her that she would run out of flowers, but she would always smile slightly and shake her head.
“I doubt that. I’ll be gone before the daisies are.” She would say quietly, but firmly, as if she were trying to convince herself that everything would be okay. Nick hated hearing her say that, but he knew she was right. The field was full of daisies and the doctors hadn’t given her much time.
“I’m not upset. I’ll be able to see soon enough.” Fiorella would say, smiling with hope lighting up her lips and her eyes. Nick would be thankful for her lack of sight in those moments, because it allowed him to wipe away the tears that threatened to form.
That was how they spent their days together, always sitting in the field, her making daisy chains, him staring out at the horizon, talking about anything and everything. There would be moments where he would forget what was going to happen and it would be like he and his best friend were going to live forever and show the world how amazing they were, and then he would look over at her and her cloudy eyes and be jolted back into reality. Nick hated reality.
He could remember the day as if it had just happened. He had walked out to the field, hands buried deep in his jacket pockets because the summer was turning into a chilly fall. He couldn’t find her anywhere. He searched the field before running back to her house; the worst running through his mind and making his blood run cold. He flew through the door, running up the stairs to her room. She was lying on the bed, her chest rising and falling raggedly, like she was having trouble breathing. Her eyes drifted around the room as if she was able to see something no one else could. He said her name quietly, alerting her to his presence. She turned her head, her eyes drifting towards where his voice came from.
“You came.” She said quietly, smiling slightly. “I was afraid you wouldn’t find me.”
“Ella, please, stay,” Nick said, moving forward to the bed, sitting next to her. She smiled again, shaking her head.
“I can’t do that, Nick. I have to go now. Don’t be sad. I’ll see again. I’ll be happy.” She reached out and he took her small hand in his. She squeezed it lightly.
“Goodbye, Nick.”
“Goodbye, Fiorella.” He didn’t try to wipe away the tears this time as he felt her grip loosen and her chest stopped rising, falling for the last time as she let out her last breath with a smile on her lips and her eyes towards the sky.
They buried her in the field behind their houses. Both the Archer family and the Jonas family came to the funeral, along with all of the people she knew and loved. They lowered her casket into the ground and those who wished to could walk up to the casket and throw in flowers. Nick carefully walked forward, holding a single daisy in his hand.
“I hope everything is as beautiful as you wanted it to be.” He said quietly, letting the daisy fall six feet into the ground, landing on top of her black coffin, the white flower contrasting against the dark surface. He stepped back, sending a silent prayer that God would let her be able to look at everything she ever imagined.