The Secret Garden--Meghann

 

I skip from step to step and a small smile graces my face as a slight breeze sweeps me off of my feet. It transports me to the entrance of the botanical garden, and the familiar bright red sign that reads ‘CLOSED’ greets me as I pass through. The gate creaks as I unlock the entrance with my spare key, careful to check behind me for any wandering eyes.

I take a deep breath, the floral scents and old memories drift towards me. My nose tingles, and the welcoming scent increasingly becomes overwhelming. I absentmindedly trace the engraved key that lies on my chest for reassurance to continue through the garden. I glance down at the gleaming piece of metal hanging onto my neck by a weathering piece of string.

The birds chirp and begin to hop about, so I go on with my routine and fetch the seeds from the shed. As I stroll through the garden, I slowly leave a trail of seeds for the colorful songbirds.
A series of flower petals scattered across the pure white marble walkway turn it into a rainbow of soft, vibrant colors. My bare feet press the plush flower petals against the chilling marble walkway as I stroll through the garden.

The graying watering bucket awaits me to fill its empty frame with water, and I oblige, slowly pouring the water from my bottle. As I revive the plants, I scrutinize how every form of life contributes to this bright atmosphere. I look down at the Fuschia-colored flower before me, reminiscing on old memories.

“This is my native plant. In my country, Haiti, it means delicate beauty.” My dad tells me. He gently pulls one of the flowers from the plant and gingerly places it behind my ear. My face now mirrors his gap-toothed smile. His eyes crinkle around the corners but his pupils swirl with sadness. At that moment I will myself forget the pain behind his eyes.

A single drop of water falls onto the petal, and I look up to see the clouds in the sky churning and colored a light shade of grey. I take a deep breath and begin to speak to the wind, hoping somehow it will carry my message to my dad.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t come sooner. Every single thing reminds me of you. From your smile to your laugh, and your soul. I think back to the night we looked up and counted the stars. Now at night, I wish on every star that you’ll come back.” I voice out. My eyes begin to burn with tears. I blink furiously, finally focusing back on the plants in front of me.

My eyes catch onto a rare beauty, which holds no color, unlike the rest of the surrounding plants. I cut across the grass, the dirt sinking between my toes, as I reach the entrancing perennial. It stands out among the radiant-colored roses. I creep toward the flower; however, I unknowingly entangle myself further in the thorny bushes. I stand still and cock my head to the side, carefully studying the blossom. I cautiously extend my hand, lightly brushing the pad of my finger against the velvety petals of the white rose. It feels like cream underneath the tips of my cracked, dry fingertips.

Its simplistic beauty mesmerizes me. I tentatively take a step back, afraid to harm the frail flower. The fabric of my white dress pulls me back to the flower as I try to leave. I slowly take notice of my surroundings and begin to panic. My breathing constricts and tears re-emerge from the depths of my eyes. My lips begin to create alarming sounds and it muffles my ears until it drowns out the songbirds and the howling wind.

In a frenzy, I hurriedly turn back to find the tail of my dress snagged in the prickly branches, and without thought, my hands plunge in after it. My hands stab against the thorns of the stem, and I

attempt to ignore the excruciating pain, stretching until my fingertips sweep against the lace cloth. I salvage a torn piece of the lace dress. The white fabric alarmingly begins to turn a harsh red color, the tip of my finger oozing a plush red liquid that trickles onto the dress, slowly seeping in and tarnishing the snow-white article of clothing. I drop the tatter, my eyes widening in alarm. It flutters to the ground like a bloodied, fallen dove. My eyes travel towards the cuts stemming from my hands, resembling vines crawling up my arm. The reopened scars exude a red liquid like an evergoing waterfall, but I don’t pay it any mind.

My gaze refocuses on the fallen flower that lays frail on the floor. Before the blood can reach the tips of my fingers and sully the white fabric, I bring it to the whites of my teeth. The wind picks up attempting to rip the fabric from the tips of my teeth, but I tighten my jaw until my teeth clench in pain. But I’ve been tricked, instead, the wind picks up the delicate white rose and takes it away. In a frenzy, I pick up the tail of my dress and chase after the rose taken by the wind. I tumble and trip over the trails of my dress. The wind whips at my face and blurs my vision. The glimpse of white being carried away from me stays in my line of vision, despite the grains of dirt and pebbles flying into my eyes and the now pouring water begging my eyes to shut. Pains shoot up the flats of my feet as it pounds against the rocky surface and take off again. The speed of my feet only allowed them to grace the ground for a moment, but never stay in one place for too long. As I near the floating white flower that flutters in the wind, I take a daring leap towards it. A perfect grand jete, my limbs stretched and poised to perfection, and my arms elongated. I ignore the pulling tensions on my arms as I extend my fingertips toward the short stem of the flower. With one blink my hand is outstretched towards the floating flower that has shifted into the hand of my fathers. A depiction of the modern-day Creation of Adam between daughter and father. Every fiber of my body longs to hold his hand and to have him by my side. I’m so close. But in a split moment, I’m brought back to reality, as my fingernails scrape against the green stem. This short-lived joy ends. The wind tosses me like a rag doll, my body straining to twist upward and get one last glimpse of my lost joy. It shows me the unattainable piece of my soul. My heart drops into a bottomless abyss and my body follows suit, my time suspended in air has run short.

I begin to spiral down toward the pond lying beneath me at alarming speeds. The remaining wind is knocked out of me as my body collides with the surface of the earth. A sudden shock shoots from the bottom of my spine to the back of my head, an overwhelming throbbing pain settles in, willing my eyes to snap shut, and for every bone in my body to ache. Every ounce of my body has begun to feel raw agony. Pain holds an unbearable weight that I was never ready to carry.

I sleepily open my eyes, head tilted towards the now-clear sky and beaming rays. A sad smile graces my lips as I register the scene before me. The garden radiates warmth with its plush vibrant colors and the picturesque sky brightens the somber mood. There are no visible remnants of the treacherous storm, except for me. I lay still in the pond, the water lapping around me and encasing me in its protection. The water attempts to cleanse me of wounds but to no avail. The crimson red blood pumps through my veins and gushes into the once clear water. My head lulls back and the piercing glare of the sun causes my eyes to squint back. I sink into the cool water until I’m submerged entirely by the body of water. As the air in my lungs slowly depletes, I sever the pain that kept me tethered to this earth for too long. I make my final wish on the one star I have never wished upon: the sun. I wish for my father’s presence, my eternal sunshine. As I let go I listen to the song of the birds resonating around me until it blends to sound like the gentle whistling of my father and I’s favorite tune. I’m at peace.