Flora

May 24. Her birthday. I exhale as I look at the rushing green passing my window. For the past three years, I have taken this same train to the countryside to visit her and celebrate her birthday. This year isn't different; however, there are more people. That may make things a little difficult towards the end. I try not to think of that as I watch a family sitting on the other side across from me. With five kids, the parents have their hands full. All girls and all close to the same age. The youngest, I think, starts to cry because her older sister has taken her book. The dad bends down to say something to the older girl, but his words die before they reach my ears. Flora always wanted to be a mother to at least three kids. I didn't want even one; being a father wasn't a goal of mine. After a couple of seconds, I can't take it anymore. There are too many things that remind me of her around this cramped train car. I can barely visit her each year. Maybe guilt has finally started to eat and tear me down. It's about time. So my body stands, my feet moving across the too orange carpet with some geometric pattern I don't care about enough to look closer. My feet can decide the destination. I just need to get away from the sea of endless people. Old, young, couples, families, single people. All our bodies mix and become one. I realize I'm starting to walk out of my car and into another one. To calm me further, I start to hum as I look around. This was Flora's favorite tune. This car is much calmer. No kids, no flowers, nothing to remind me of her. I should have sat here instead. I am about to stop humming and turn back when a voice as soft as silk stops me. "Empty Town?" she asks me. I turn and can't keep my mouth from falling open slightly. She's sitting, reading a book entitled A Study in Scarlet. Her flowy purple dress falls right above her knees, and she has her fire-red hair free with some loose curls. Her striking green eyes look up at me. I manage a small nod. She smiles and giggles, the sound like bells ringing. "My mom used to put me to bed humming that," she states more to herself than me. She goes back to reading after a second has passed. I look around hating myself already. This is going to be one stupid move. I slip in the seat in front of her. She looks back up at me with green eyes full of questions. She goes to speak, but I beat her to it. "I'm so sorry. My train car is packed. May I sit here?" I ask. Another smile threatens to show. She closes the book and puts it beside her. "Sure," she states as she reaches her hand across to me. "I'm Charlotte." I take it and we shake hands. "Sam. Where are you headed?" Sighing deeply, she answers, "I'm going to go see my parents sadly. You?" I want to ask why she doesn't want to go, but instead, decide to answer her question. "I'm headed to see my fiancee," I answer softly. She inhales. "Congrats on the engagement!" she replies, her mood changing on a dime. "Thank you. Do you have anyone?" Shaking her head no, she adds "I wished I did. I'm not good at love." I chuckle. "Most people aren't until they find the right person. You just need to trust the timing of your life. He'll come around soon." I offered. She looked down. "That does make sense." I decided to change the subject. Clearing my throat I ask, "So, I'm guessing you like to read", nodding towards the forgotten book. Her eyes turned an impossible shade of bright green. "Yes! Especially classics. Do you?" Flora does. "No. I can't get into a book to save my life. I wish though." "I understand. It's not for everyone." She picks up the book. It's a beat-up red hardback with A Study in Scarlet written in gold ink. "My brother gave this to me for my 15th birthday. I've read it ever since. Any moment I had." She touched it longingly. No wonder it was so beat up. Suddenly, she was shocked by a bolt of yellow hot electricity. "Oh my gosh," she burst out. She glanced at the brown watch on her wrist. She clutched her heart and let out a sigh of relief. "What's wrong?," I asked. "I thought I missed my stop." She let out a small chuckle as I watched her pick up her purse, book, and blue coat. I stand with her. She goes to say something but is interrupted by the train coming to a stop. She frowns and decides to say something else instead. "I'm so sorry I have to run. It was nice meeting you, Sam. I hope you enjoy your time with your fiancee." A part of me doesn't want her to leave. Maybe I could start over with someone other than Flora. This time it could be different. I could be better; however, I can only say three words to her. "You too Charlotte," my voice comes out soft and I wonder if she heard me. I watch her walk away, her white heels clicking. When she disappears, I head and turn back to my car. Now looking at my watch, I realize my stop is coming soon too. My stomach twists. Opening the door to my car, I wonder why. Why did I do it? I always thought I did it because of her, but maybe it was me. A couple of minutes later and I'm still asking myself that. I grab my briefcase and coat and let the endless flow of people push me out of the train. I breathe in the air. My parents own a plot of land outside this city. I moved her there because it was private and my parents have long since died. I start to walk, hoping to catch one of the bright yellow taxis. Two hours later and I have arrived. Stepping out, I thank the driver and tip him. Everything slows down. Opening the gate I walk up to the small, white house that sits on the hill. Going inside I set everything down. I decide to see her before the sun sinks. The walk to her grave is short. Approaching it, I breathe out. "Hello love." I lean down and put the red rose on her grave, grabbing the one I put on it last year. It's gray, crinkled, and the petals are barely holding on. I made the marker a simple cross with her name over it. "I met someone today. You would have loved her." I sigh and start to feel hot tears roll down my cheeks. Looking up over the landscape, I say "I wish you could see this. It's beautiful." And it was. All the colors of an approaching sunset mix. The trees dance with the soft wind. The flowers I have planted for her are spots of color around the mostly green grass. And the middle of it all, I sit. I finally let the tears fall completely. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I killed you."