“Today is the day I change” putting on the glasses to complete my look for the day, I uttered to my-self in mirror.
“Daisy, you are as beautiful and pure as your name. you be a good girl!” my mother raised me with that.
“I am Daisy, a good girl” I grew on that, feeling like a daisy!
Mama told me what it is to be good and I listened. Now I work at a show-off company and I am still a good girl. It always worked out for me being nice and staying loved. At the company, we earn points for looking best. The better body, face and features are preferred, the good clothes are valid, nice words get credits and lands a massive paycheck. More money brings most points and that is the equivalent of success. I walked in to stand out as a daisy inside-out. Now I dress to impress, speak to please and get praised for all of it!
Last Friday night, my colleague, ‘weed’ started to grow on me. Weed drained me off my supply and look at all these dark circles that I have to hide under glasses now. I saw her go here and there from time to time and she always passed me a giant smile. I figured we were good and she naturally had a creepy smile. I don’t judge you know; I am a good girl after all. When I was happily leaving for a comfortable weekend that night, I caught a glimpse of weed with a bunch of other coworkers, together manipulate my supplies and leave sickening, mocking laughter in the air.
My white petals turned red and I had my leaves curled in anger. “Good girls cry, they don’t scream and show impolite gestures” Mama’s words came back to me.
I couldn’t move, my drained energy was cut off all supply. I walked home without making even a single stop, all the way to my bed and curled up in sheets for the next two days that I had free.
“I’ve been good, then why? Mama said I’ll receive good when I give good” I muttered after every long messy session of pondering over what I had been taught.
The logic was flawed! I figured it out.
It was Sunday night and the thought of seeing weed in the eye, as she would be pretending like she did absolutely nothing! I looked back at myself in the mirror wondering; am I alright? I saw my petals appeared to be wilted a bit more.
I work at a show-off company, so I can’t look like that. I drank some water I had in store, and got dressed in the best I had.
They say pain promotes growth. I had an aching weekend and I literally did feel grown. The final glance at the mirror, in the present, I said, “Today is the day I change!”
I was still daisy, gone from as fresh as it to a pushing up daisies stance. I was the same, but I had changed.
I walked in the office and weed passed by, in just a day, she had herself spread around by meters. I intentionally stepped on a stretched stem and it broke. Weed faced me in shock. I stood there with a smirk, then began yelling confronting words.
It felt so good, how could it make me a bad girl? It was right to change myself, If I always got to speak my heart. My confidence grew in moments as I talked.
The next moment, she was a weeping mess whilst I stood proud for finally speaking up. Everyone gathered and saw me stand with a smirk, then looked at weed with her crocodile tears, denying what she really did.
The wind was blowing but in a blink of an eye, it’s direction changed and I watched everyone flow away from me, crowding around weed, in sympathy, the wind wavered so they turned their heads, just to throw glances of fury at me.
My truth had strengthened her defense. I looked at their foolish, scary selves. I had changed so I yelled out the truth again. They paid no attention to it so I eventually gave up again.
I was home after my shortest day at work. Again standing facing the mirror. I had changed so what went wrong? It felt so good, was it really not what good girls do? Doubts were too weak to be justified…
I was confused wondering why mama kept saying to be a good girl is to cry, you don’t fight, yell or show your real self.
With no reason to convince, I still started to think, maybe now, I wasn’t a good girl after-all. It was wrong of me to take off the costume and bring out the change of showing the real-me.
“B-but wasn’t it them to blame who foolishly declined the truth I said? It had to be them not me!” Like a flame, a voice rose somewhere within me.
This went on for quite a while, my head was smacked from approval to decline, like a ping-pong ball would be. Somewhere during the mid-air stance, I had a light bulb glow above my head. Photosynthesis it could be, the light put sense in me.
That’s when I realized, I wasn’t wrong to change and come out. I really did change, it was a fact and it was the right thing to do, another fact. The truth is although I was right; how far I’ve come with the change, but this world revolving around me so differently, it had still stayed the same.
The anger in me sat down like foam and fumes of pity haphazardly float.
The fools at work were now caged by the weed, the fake tears disappeared and she also changed like me. She showed them her true side, a hideous evil grin devouring all of them and her dark laughter echoed throughout the fields. The one’s who jumped to her rescue, had nothing but themselves to blame. They cried their last words to express their regret of misunderstanding the pretender but now, it was already too late.
I pity them but they made a mistake, I went back to the weed cemetery with all their corpses all over the place. I had changed and I had to stick to it. Specially, now that I know I am still Daisy, still the good girl. I covered the place to feed on their disintegrating bodies, they had the nutrients, reaping what they sow, I suck it up more and more to grow. The weed in the field dried up since the nutrients had all redeemed the bodies flaws and made up for it with loyalty to me, rejecting the evil weeds until it ended up to really weep.
I watched the weeds starve and dry, feeling sorry for it but still can’t deny, with the change in weed, it had to be her fate.
I’ve come far in the future, four seasons passed by, we have a “no weeds” sign and no trace of her in sight. I bloom every day in midst of these people, who learned lessons from the tragic past incident.