Thank you, Petal

I ran through the breeze, skirt flying high, relishing the feel of the breeze that swept my hair off the tip of my back. Running through the countryside, through the busy city, and skidded to a halt at the foot of a familiar train station. A girl with tears running down her face was racing through the tracks, as older girls jeered as they shot after her. I gasped as I recognized the girl. “No, not again!” 

But it happens. There was a deep rumbling as a train started to appear from a curve, heading in the way of the neat red station—the way where the girl was going. She stumbles as one of the bullies push her, books tipping onto the tracks with the girl. She screams as the train was about to hit her, a scream that was abruptly cut off. 

Silence. That was the scariest sound of all. 

~~~~~~

I sat up on my bed, wiping sweat off my forehead. Warm blankets covered my bony frame, and I could hear Mother frying the bacon in the kitchen. I breathed hard, looking out the window to see the busy city and the man with the guitar, who always played a melody that soothed me. 

I saw a train station instead. The train station. 

Shame crawled up my back as a flood of memories broke in, like water exploding over a broken dam. Out of all places, Mother had to choose this house to rent for the vacation. I half wished that I needed to go to school in the summer like all the chaotic students. The red-bricked station seemed to blink innocently while blood had been spilled in this place, now cleaned up. 

Petal Browne. That was her name. A brunette, freckled nerd, who always seemed to have a girl targeting her. Until two years ago, when she died from being ran over by a train. Guilt washed over me. I had let them kill her, let the girls push Petal on the tracks, watched her arms flailing desperately, heard her wail. While I watched on, an arm’s length from Petal, just enough distance to take her hand and pull her off the track as the train barreled on. While I just stood there, staring, afraid that the bullies would pick on me. And now Petal was dead.

I fixed my attention back on my room as the sound of pounding woke me from my thoughts. Mother pokes her head in. “Robyn? Breakfast is ready.”

I teared my eyes from the window. “Sorry. I’ll come soon.”

She noticed my eyes streaking to the window and softened. “Robyn, Petal’s death wasn’t your fault, but the bullies’. Actually, I’m thankful that you didn’t pull her from the tracks. What if you were ran over by the train when you were helping her?”

Mother’s words just made me feel worse. “Are you saying that Petal should die and I shouldn’t?” I choked. 

Mother sat down on the bed. “No.” She answered. She paused for a moment. “Why don’t you come and eat breakfast while it’s still warm?”

I shook my head, only able to think of Mrs Browne and how she didn’t have Petal to cook for because of me. I turned to face her. “Mother, why did you pick this place to celebrate the holiday? Please, can we go somewhere else?” 

Mother fixed me with a stern gaze. “It’s no good running from the past, Robyn. You know that. Instead, accept and embrace it when you can.” When I didn’t reply, she sighed. “Your breakfast should be tepid now. Come on.” Gently but firmly, she pulled me out into the dining room. 

~~~~~~

“Robyn, you can’t stay home all day.” Mother said as she washed the dishes. It was midday now, and I was full after eating lunch. “Go out and play with the other children!”

“I don’t want to.” I was slumped on the sofa, staring out the window. Thankfully, this window didn’t offer a sight of the train station. I could see kids, twelve or thirteen, around the same age as me, playing together. I didn’t want to join them. 

Mother pursed her lips, brushing her hand on a towel. “That’s an order, Robyn.” She sat on her desk and opened her computer. “I have work to do. Now go.” By the way she glared at me with narrowed eyes, I could tell that I wasn’t going to win this argument. Sighing, I went outside. 

“Hi!” A girl called. She was slender, not like me, who was scrawny. Her hair was trimmed to a short bob that shone in the light. I instinctively touched mine, which was tangled and long. “I’m Trisha. You wanna hang out with us?” 

I glanced back at my temporary house. Mother was watching me approvingly. “Sure. I’m Robyn.”

“Cool!” Trisha trilled, and led me to the other girls. One by one, they introduced themselves. 

“I’m Lisa.”

“Kate.”

“Millie.”

“Ella.”

My head spun with all the names. Like Trisha, they were all well groomed and stylish. I could feel my cheeks burning as they took in my unwashed face, muddy shirt and sagging jeans. “Hi.” Lisa said finally. 

The silence resumed, and a few moments later broken by a small sniffle. I jerked my head towards the girl who made that noise, and found a freckled face, so familiar, that my heart pounded. “Who are you?” I asked her. “I’m sorry,” I added hastily. “But you reminded me of someone.” 

The girl didn’t speak but let out a despairing wail. Trisha steered me away from her. “That’s Summer, the younger sister of Petal. You know, the Petal that died on the train track?” Without pausing for me to utter an answer, she continued, “she hasn’t been all right ever since Petal died. Summer’s mourned her all year, and clearly she isn’t finished yet.” Trisha snorted with a roll of her eyes. 

“Oh.” I looked closely at Summer. Her hair looked lighter than Petal’s. Embarrassment seared my face once more. “Well……what do you want to play?”

“We’re going to Ella’s house.” Kate, the shortest of the girls, informed me. She gave a little bounce. “She just got a new shade of lip gloss and we’re gonna test it out. What’s more exciting than that?”

I could think of a hundred things more exciting than testing lip glosses, but I decided not to say them, trying to make the most of the time where I had friends in this wretched place. “Okay.” I said, trying to sound enthusiastic. “So when are we going?”

“Now, silly,” Lisa teased. “C’mon, Ella! Let’s show her your house!”

A hiss came from the back. I turned, and was surprised to see Summer in front of Lisa and I, teeth bared. About half a head shorter than me, Summer didn’t look very menacing. “Murderer!” She yowled, pointing at me. I sagged with understanding. Summer accused me of Petal’s death, and she had been right. I couldn’t suppress a spark of anger. My only friends in this neighbourhood and Summer had to turn them on me!

“Summer, what are you saying?” Trisha asked. A ripple of murmurs passed through the girls. Millie let out a gasp of disbelief. 

“The bullies were chasing Petal, and she—she didn’t reach out a hand to save her, even though she could.” Summer choked, her voice shaking. “I saw her eyes! She wasn’t willing to save my sister’s life just because she’s afraid that she’ll get picked on.” She wailed, and my heart seemed to stop with grief, guilt and shame as I listened to her. 

Trisha whirled to me in shock. “Robyn, is that true?”

Millie’s eyes widened as she met my gaze. “It is true then!” 

I shirked away from Summer’s glare and the hurt look on Kate’s face. “I gotta go,” I mumbled, and before they could stop me, I ran. I could hear them shrieking behind me, and guilt swamped me like wings. I knew it was my fault that Petal died, but Summer saying it out loud had hurt. Locking myself in my room, I stared out the window, looking at the train station, the train station that had cost me so much. Shaking, I fell on my bed, feeling the comfort of the blankets and rain that had started to fall.

~~~~~~

I ran through the breeze, skirt flying high, relishing the feel of the breeze that swept my hair off the tip of my back. Running through the countryside, through the busy city, and skidded to a halt at the foot of a familiar train station. A girl with tears running down her face was racing through the tracks, as older girls jeered as they shot after her. I gasped as I recognized the girl. “No, not again!” 

But it happens. There was a deep rumbling as a train started to appear from a curve, heading in the way of the neat red station—the way where the girl was going. She stumbles as one of the bullies push her, books tipping onto the tracks with the girl. She screams as the train was about to hit her. 

Suddenly, my hand grabs hers, and hauls her to safety beside the track. The bullies shrieked in the distance, but I was deaf to everything but the girl. Still holding her hand, my face was shining with happiness, hers with gratitude. 

“Thank you.” The girl whispers, gentle as a petal. 

“No, thank you, Petal.” I said, feeling joy at last.