Bye, Daisy

I let the golden light dance on my up tilted face, grazing its soothing and peaceful fingertips across my cheeks. I suck in a deep breath, savoring the air delicately laced with the fragrance of roses and lavender. I know that eventually I will have to breathe out, but with a unexpected desperation I try to hold onto it for a few more seconds. Eyes skimming the picturesque treetops, I circle my thumb across the wooden floor littered with leaves and berries from the overhanging tree. Sometimes when I look at them, I see ruby red splashes of blood, until after a second they have turned back to ordinary berries laying placidly on the floor. Sometimes in the far echoes of my mind, I wonder if I have cut myself, and that is blood on the floor beside me; but that is not what worries me. What terrifies me was finding that this thought stirs no concern, that I don't really care. I don't care about much any more.

Legs swaying in the cool breeze, I am sitting over the edge of the tree house, the only place that still wrestles to hold memories of my care-free childhood. Looking around, I can still see captures from the distant past, slowly fading into black and white, and becoming curled at the edges. I can see laughter and tears, make-ups and a bond stronger than steel. Eyes darting to the empty spot next to me, I wait, staring off into the distance until she remembers to come.

Below me, a creaking disrupts the melancholic silence. Not needing to look any more, I climb down using memorized notches and bumps in the rough tree to gracefully reach the sodden earth. Looking up from the peeling bark, I see the old swing just beginning to dance. I brush away the dry leaves and sit down. One hand holding the swing rope, my legs start to swing gently. Finally, my head turns sideways to gaze at the other person on the swing. Her hair drops gently over her hunched shoulders, obscuring her soft featured face. Sensing my attention, she meets my gaze, offering a small, sad smile. We stare at each other for a long moment in silence, before she starts to speak. 'Do you remember the time when we went to the park with Mumma and took too much food, knowing before we got there we would never be able to eat it?' she says, her voice edged with kindness and sorrow. The memory instantly bubbles to the surface, nearly choking me with the surprise.

Closing my eyes, the static picture starts to become color, and sounds start to come to life. I can see an eight year old version of me and her running around with bloated bellies, screaming and just laughing for the sheer hell of it. Mumma sits on a picnic rug, her eyes lit up watching our limitless exuberance. We run off into the nearby woods, leaving broken sticks, disturbed silence and laughter in our wake.

“Do you remember that we ran until our lungs started screaming in protest, and even until our legs joined the cause?” A smile graces my lips as I remember falling to the ground, breathless from the running and laughter. My infectious giggle finally brought her down to the ground beside me. I recall that every time we looked at each other we encouraged another bout of laughter to overcome us, until we finally managed to calm down. By then, my jaw ached from radiant smiling and my eyes brimmed with tears.

When we begrudgingly stood up from the ground, all that surrounded us was the hushed whisperings of trees and the far cry of startled birds. I looked to her in need of reassurance and a way to get back, but all I saw was the same look of worry in her own eyes.

“And, do you remember that we got lost in those woods, and somehow as eight-year-olds believed that out of billions of people who claimed the supernatural was fake, we defied the odds, and only survived by the skin of our teeth against the evil creatures of the woods?”

I snort at our childhood innocence, yet the echoes of an uncontrollable terror still haunts my smile.

I remember bursting into uncontrollable tears, and weeping until my eyes were dry and my head pounded with dehydration. All the time, she held my hand with a steely grip, her clammy fingers nearly crushing mine with faked assurance as she walked around, dragging me along behind; desperately trying to soothe me with her words that had started gushing out her mouth in frantic torrents.

I had always looked up to her. Despite our age similarity, she always carried a motherly role, one that I'm only starting to realize took a big toll on her, and had savagely bitten a big chunk out of her childhood. If I had needed anybody, I thought she was my only option.

“But do you remember that we finally reached the edge of the woods and nearly wept with relief when we saw the green grass infected with tiny white flowers? But somehow throughout all of that, it was still the best day ever, because we had made it out of the woods together and at the time had thought ourselves brave and undefeatable. We were determined to not let anything ruin our day.” She smiled gently, as if trying to safely store this precious memory into the back of her mind so that she could always keep it clear and focused.

“Yes, I remember that day.” I say, my throat choked by unshed tears, “Why?”

“No reason, I just want you to remember that day always. I'm always here.” With those words her image starts to fade, crumbling into dust before blowing away into the wind. All I am left with is a hollow chest and an aching for something that does not belong here any more. It had seemed that she wasn't undefeatable, and that the weight had become too heavy for her delicate china shoulders.

“Bye, Daisy.” I say, tilting my face up to the golden light, letting it caress my cheeks and follow the lone tear trickling down my face.