The Hell Flower

She almost ran out of the restaurant, and abruptly stopped on the sidewalk, under the red neon sign, trying to catch her breath. It was as if a gentle wind had come to calm her down, and fill her lungs again. She focused on that cold, soothing air coming from the darkness of the streets. Her chest kept going up and down, and she put a hand on it, hoping it’d ease. She closed her eyes for just a couple of seconds, as the fear gently retreated. The shivers calmed down, and the shaking gradually stopped. She forced herself to breathe slowly and reopened her eyes. A line of people waiting to go in under the rain-battled awning was staring at her, looking confused. Dahlia felt embarrassed; she probably looked like she had just run for her life. She turned around, and walked away, struggling to keep her composure. The more she walked away from that place, the better she felt. At least, her body did. In her head, she was calling herself a horrible person. That poor guy must have been so confused and embarrassed, being abandoned like this by his date... She tried to breathe more calmly while pulling the little cardigan tighter around her. She felt exposed, not because of her clothes or the cold, but because of that feeling she didn't belong there. She tried to repress the tears coming, and like every time, her reflex was to reach for her phone in her bag. "Are you alright?" She looked up. The guy she’d just left behind in the restaurant was looking at her, visibly confused. There was a hint of annoyance in his voice, though, like he wasn't asking out of concern, but asking if she was actually mad. She couldn't blame him; he probably had never been ditched like this before...  "I'm sorry," she blurted out. "I just... I have anxiety." "Did I do anything wrong?" he insisted sharply.  "No, no, It's not your fault. You did nothing wrong. I'm sorry." She hated having to apologize, and the looks he was giving her. He sighed.  "Fine... I'll just go inside and pay, and then we can get a taxi..."  "No, no. I'll... I'll grab the bus. Please do send me the bill, I don't mind paying for it."  He nodded, and didn't offer to pay for half of it. He probably felt like she owed him this much after wasting his time. He walked back inside, and she walked away as soon as he was out of sight, calling the number on speed dial on her phone.  "...Yes?" answered a tired voice that probably hadn't checked who was calling. "Sam, It's me." "Dahlia? Wait, already?" "It didn't go well," she admitted in a sigh, right off the bat. "I couldn't do it... I'm so sorry." "No, no, don't apologize! It's alright, at least you tried... I told Vic not to push it. What happened? Did he say something wrong?" "No, no, he was very nice and everything. I just... I just couldn't do it, I couldn't even make it to the starters." She hoped Sam wouldn't notice the shaking in her voice. She glanced right and left, speeding up to the bus station.  "Oh..." her friend said, not so surprised. "Did you have a panic attack? I should have stayed close..." "No, no, I'm good," Dahlia shook her head. "Just a bit of anxiety, but I... I was able to manage. I'm good." "Alright. Well, you gave it a try, so at least there’s that. I'm still proud of you for trying, Lia." Dahlia let out a faint sigh. She knew Sam was trying to lift her spirits up, but it was still a disappointment. At least, she was a bit disappointed in herself. She felt like she should have been able to go through with that date, maybe at least until they reached the dessert... But she knew she couldn't. So she just tightened her fingers around her bag, glanced around, and kept walking down the wet asphalt. The rain wasn't as bad as it had looked once she was underneath it. "Where are you now? You coming home?" "Yeah, I'm going to catch the next bus... Are you home yet?" "No, I'm still stuck at work, probably won't be home until late again, sorry. Helen should be home though! And I think she was planning to make her dahl thing, you should try texting her." "I will." Now that was comforting. Helen would be the best at helping her change her mood and lift her spirits. That kind of friend that made any room become brighter, and one feel lighter. "Okay. Don't think about it too much, will you? You did great, Dahlia. Kisses." Sam hung up quickly, probably busier than she admitted. Dahlia tried to print her words in her head; "You did great. You did your best". Had she, really? She couldn't wrap her head around the fact that she had just felt so poorly, and now she was fine again. She felt worse sitting in a cozy, warm restaurant with a nice guy than out there, walking under the rain in an empty street by herself. What was wrong with her? It was always the same question coming back around. Every single time, like a certainty printed at the back of her mind. With each failure, the horrible feeling of guilt that made her feel like she was some alien, that something was wrong with her returned more vividly. She tried to push it back, out of her mind, but it was still hovering, never really gone and pushed back forward at every single chance. She hated not being able to do something about it once and for all.  For now, her best bet was to follow Sam’s advice, text Helen and go home to hopefully enjoy some nice food and soothing friendship. She sent that text, and walked to the bus stop, the timetables telling her she’d only have to wait a handful of minutes until the next one. Helen didn't answer either, her text was left unread, but Dahlia expected as much. In fact, she’d have been more surprised if she opened it right away. Helen wasn't the kind to be stuck to her phone all day, quite the opposite. Tightening her cardigan a bit more, Dahlia kept staring at the end of the street, where her bus was due to appear some time soon. She didn't mind waiting. The air felt nice and fresh, and she loved the smell of an evening downpour. In fact, she wanted to step out of the bus stop shelter, and let it rain down on her. But she knew that was a crazy thing to think and do, so she didn't. She waited some more. The bus was running a bit late. She glanced at the time on her phone screen; it was a bit past 9 PM... and already September. Her heart sank. Fall was coming. Again. Unstoppable as time, the seasons didn't care for her dreaded feelings, and would come right on time, as always. There was no escaping it... A faint movement on the opposite street caught her attention. It was so faint, in the corner of her eye, but because the street was so empty and quiet, she heard the sound, too. Like a small blow of wind, or a whisper. A chill ran down her spine, but before she could decide otherwise, her body reacted, and she looked ahead. Nothing. The street in front was dark, not lit by any street lamp or window. She glanced around; the nearby lamp posts were still off. A delay in adjusting to the nighttime? Her eyes went back to the darkness opposite to her. Was it just imagination, or was this area darker than it was supposed to be? Dahlia tried to take a deep breath, and chase that idea out of her head, back to waiting for her bus. There was nothing there. Nothing. Again. She heard it, that faint, low whisper in the wind. She ignored it, or tried to. It was just the wind, not a voice, not a whisper. There was nothing moving in that dark area. No shadows, no silhouettes. She had to stop with that. Stop the crazy, Dahlia. A honk took her out of her dreadful thinking, and she waved at the upcoming bus. The driver greeted her, and she nodded back, hurrying at the back of the bus after paying her fare. Dahlia sighed, and leaned her head against the window. They drove off, going past the restaurant. Was that boy still in there, confused by her actions? She’d apologize again later, both to him and Victoria. She had to do at least this much... She felt sorry for everyone who had to put up with her heretic actions. She finally reached home less than half an hour later, and let out a relieved sigh as she crossed the door. No place made her feel so at ease. Not because it was her home, or that it was brightly illuminated by citrus-perfumed candles and gentle lamplights, leaving no place for troubling shadows and darkness, but because of who lived there. Having four flatmates meant that chances were high that there would be someone home at any time of the day or night, at least one of them. And just as Sam had predicted, she could hear Helen in the kitchen, along with the faint smell of spices, and mint. Dahlia took off her jacket, hanging it in the entry hall, and walked down the corridor to go and greet her first. Standing alone in the kitchen, spinning a wooden spoon in a pot and her finger dancing above a cooking book, Helen was fully focused on her dish. "Hi Helen," Dahlia waved, stepping in her line of sight. Her friend immediately smiled upon seeing her, and came forward to hug her. Then, Helen took a step back and frowned. Putting her thumb right under her elbow, she moved her free hand in a couple of circles and mouthed the word "Already" with an inquisitive expression.  "Yeah... It didn't go well," Dahlia admitted.  Helen made a sorry expression, but quickly put on a smile back, and pointed at her pan excitedly.  "Want some?"  "I'd love that." Helen nodded, and immediately put a little bit on the spoon in the pot, presenting it for Dahlia to taste, as if she had never tried her amazing cooking before and didn't trust it fully. She happily ate it, like she would have blindly eaten anything Helen had made. The warm red lentils were hot, but they had this amazing flavor mix between coconut milk, mint and Indian spices. "This is delicious," she said, making the appropriate sign with her statement while trying to ease the heat in her mouth. "I love the mint." Helen smiled even more warmly, and immediately gave her a full bowl of it. She took one for herself, turned off the heat and covered the pot with a lid, so the others could help themselves later. Then, she went to sit down at their table, and Dahlia sat in front of her. As soon as she could put her bowl and spoon down, Helen grabbed her phone to text Dahlia. Everyone in the household kept their phones around so it was easier for them to communicate, although Helen herself wasn't fond of screens in general. "I feel like dahl is the best dish to have on a rainy day! How was it outside? A downpour feels nice in this heat!"  Dahlia chuckled and nodded. If she was crazy, Helen was the blessed weirdo of their household. It was just like her, to go on happily about the rain rather than ask about Dahlia’s date. She stood up and floated around the kitchen, in her denim overall and red tank top, her countless stone bracelets clinking on her arms, to grab some pita bread and tzatziki she had also made to go with their meal. She was barefoot on the tiled floor, too, which meant she had probably finished one of her yoga sessions not too long before. As always when Helen was cooking, the kitchen was an absolute mess, but she’d have it all cleaned once she was done. "Are you alone?" Dahlia asked out loud while also signing it. "Nobody else home?" "Clara is in her room," Helen signed back. "Victoria and Sam are still at work." Dahlia nodded, and began eating. A bowl of Helen’s dahl was ten times better than expensive raw fish on a plate, in her book... It helped her warm up, too, and she hadn't even realized she was so cold. Actually, a third of their kitchen was built like a veranda, with a wall and a chunk of the ceiling all in windows, so despite the double-glass windows, the whole room could get quite cold in winter and on rainy days. It wasn't practical to live in, but Dahlia loved it, and that’s why she and Sam had picked this house despite the difficulty to find three other people to live and split the costs with. It was a two-storey modern house, with three bedrooms and two bathrooms, but a large living room, a small garden and modern amenities, a rarity in the neighborhood. Clara’s room was in the attic, while Sam and Dahlia had the bedroom on the first floor, and Helen and Victoria shared the one on the ground floor. It was a bit crowded for five people to live in, but not only had they made this arrangement work, but they had renewed their lease once already. Dahlia felt like everything would have been completely different if just one of these girls wasn't there or replaced by somebody else. They weren't exactly close friends, but they were all closer than housemates for sure. While she was lost in her thinking, Helen tapped the table to get her attention. "Why do you look so sad tonight?" Helen had just sat opposite to her again, putting down two cups of freshly brewed mint tea. She had that strange ability to smile warmly even while looking concerned. "...I went on that date Victoria set up for me," Dahlia confessed, signing what she could of that. "But I couldn't go through it." "Why does that make you cry?" Dahlia sighed, and pointed at the phones for them to carry this conversation by text. Helen nodded, and grabbed hers. "Because I probably disappointed that boy. Because I'm sorry to Victoria who set this up... and because I'm disappointed in myself." "Why would you be disappointed in yourself for that?" Helen asked, typing fast and looking up at her with a gentle, comforting expression. "Because normal people should be able to go through a date without running away for no valid reason." "You think you had no valid reason? What no valid reason makes you run out of a date, though?" Dahlia looked up from her phone. At times, Helen could hand out surprisingly sharp and blunt sentences like this. Her friend smiled and put down the phone, visibly not expecting an actual response from her. Somewhere at the other end of a house, the sound of keys in the door and a loud singing voice echoed from the entrance. Dahlia signed to let Helen know Victoria was home. "Let's ask Vic then. You’ll see if she’s really disappointed." Helen signed, giving her a wink.