The Hell Flower

The Hell Flower #2

She could hear Victoria singing long before she reached the kitchen, and it was clear she was in a great mood. Dahlia felt a lot better just from hearing her friend so pumped up. Victoria finally stepped inside the kitchen with a bright smile, looking gorgeous in a feminine bright fuschia suit and with large golden hoops on her ears.

"Call me the villain, 'cuz I'm busy killing it!" she kept singing, dancing up to the fridge. "This is the way-y-y-y..."

She grabbed the pen hanging by a string and added notes onto the calendar, which was mostly her calendar since a good eighty percent of the notes there were in her handwriting. In fact, she kept this calendar, her phone agenda and her actual agenda all strictly synchronized with military precision. Helen and Dahlia exchanged an amused smile, letting Victoria finish writing her notes. Then, she walked over and stopped just between two lines to put a quick kiss on Helen's lips, and turned to them, determined to finish her song.

"Victoria!" another angry voice came from above this time.

Victoria ignored it as she kept singing, but Dahlia signed for Helen to know, and both grabbed their cup, hiding behind it ahead of the storm coming down from the stairs. Less than ten seconds later, Clara barged in, a sharpie still open in her hand, looking furious. From the way her red hair was in a long braid and she had her glasses on, she was probably busy studying.

"Victoria!"

Helen tapped Victoria's butt as she was bent over the dahl, making her stop and turn around to find Clara there, and finally take out her headphones.

"Hi girl!"

"You're loud!" Clara interjected. "Turn the damn volume down, I'm busy studying!"

"I have headphones on though...?"

"Your singing! I could hear you since... And you're dripping all over the floor! Can't you at least take off your shoes!"

"Relax, I'll wipe it down! I just needed to write my notes before I forget. ...And what are you studying for anyway?"

"I have exams coming," Clara rolled her eyes.

"In September?" Victoria raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, nursing students kind of get exams all the time. Anyway, tone it down. And wipe the floor! Hi Dahlia."

"Hi..."

She left, not without one last glare at Victoria, who grimaced. She waited until Clara was gone back upstairs before she turned to the two other girls.

"I wasn't that loud, was I?"

"...A bit," Dahlia said.

"Shit."

Still, Victoria took off her high heels, and went back to the hallway to put them away, before coming back and grabbing a towel in the kitchen, holding on to the fridge while she tried to wipe the mess with her foot. While she was wiping, she and Helen proceeded to have a short conversation using sign language only. Unlike Dahlia, Victoria was fully fluent, so she and Helen could exchange so fast that Dahlia only got seventy percent of their conversation. Compared to them, Dahlia still had to communicate with lip reading and sign-supported speech with Helen, as she didn’t know enough signs. It was impressive, considering that Victoria had known Helen a shorter time than her, but learned much faster.

"By the way, Dahlia, how come you're home already, hun?" Victoria asked, switching to simcom to sign her question too.

Dahlia had almost forgotten about the date at this point, so she put her fork back down with a dejected expression.

"Sorry," she said. "I... Didn't go through it."

"Oh, so that explains the missed call from that guy... Wait, was he a douche?" She asked, finally looking up from her foot on the towel. "Lee told me he was a nice guy!"

"No, no, he was nice," Dahlia corrected her, feeling even worse. "I just... kind of ran in the middle of it. Anxiety."

"Oh..."

Victoria glanced towards Helen, visibly looking for a clue as to how to react, but Helen just gently shook her head.

"Okay. It's alright, I guess."

"I'm very sorry..."

But Victoria chuckled, and bent to grab the towel before throwing it in the washing machine. Then, she walked to the coffee machine, pressing the buttons.

"Don't worry, Dahlia," she said while opening the cupboard. "You're not the first one to run out of a date, trust me. I'll text the guy, don't worry baby. He just bugged me to set that date up with you since he saw you in our picture from last summer on my laptop background…”

She took out her mug and placed it right in time for the coffee to start dripping before turning around, signing again as soon as her hands were free.

“I really need a shower now, but Helen, I beg you, save me some of that dahl. It smells like freaking heaven.”

Helen smiled, and Victoria threw her a kiss before exiting the room while her mug was filling up, and they had no doubt she’d be back before it got lukewarm. She was the type to function on quick showers and large quantities of coffee regardless of the time. Dahlia let out a breath, feeling relieved.

"See?" Helen chuckled, signing again. "It wasn't that bad. Dessert? We still have ice cream!"

That would have been nice, but Dahlia just felt tired. She politely refused, and took her bowl to the dishwasher before going upstairs. She couldn't take a shower while Victoria was using the hot water, but she needed to take off her makeup. She felt like a child playing with her mother's stuff, and she ended up having to borrow some of Sam's makeup remover as she found out she'd run out of her own. She quickly removed it all, as if it could clear away the strange, crazy character of that night. Still, it wasn't that easy to forget. She kept replaying that scene at the bus stop. ...Was she really crazy? Why did she fear the dark so much? Why was she always seeing shadows everywhere? Was that paranoia? She washed her face, trying to freshen herself and her mind up, and as soon as she heard Victoria was done, she hopped into her own shower. It only took a couple of minutes to clean her body with some soothing lavender soap, but it made a world of a difference. The familiarity of this house, of this bathroom and the gentle smells were helping her feel safe. Safe from what, exactly?

She only dropped by the kitchen once more to grab some herbal tea and say goodnight to the girls. Victoria was signing to Helen about her busy day while eating the dahl, and the date seemed to have been completely forgotten already. Dahlia went back up with her mug full of hot tea, feeling a lot better.

Her and Sam's room was small for two girls to live in, but she liked it a lot better that way. Their beds were close, just about an arm's length away and separated by a shared side table, and the room felt full and cozy. If someone looked at it for the first time, maybe they would have felt like it was shared by a pair of twins with different tastes. They'd chosen the same beds, and they had the same velvet quilt in different colors. Sam's was a deep green, while Dahlia's was brick red. They also shared the two book shelves above their beds, running from one end of the wall to the other, and completely full. Dahlia had arranged them by color, mixing hers and Sam's, but they were used to sharing anyway. There was a collage on Sam's side of the wall with all their pictures, in most of them they appeared together, arranged with fake flowers and fairy lights like a little bouquet of memories. On the only wall neither their beds touched was their wardrobe. That, too, was mostly shared, as they didn't have enough drawers or hanging space to each have their own anyway. They had a communal socks box, a few simple tops neither of them could remember which was whose, and a denim skirt that was the only one that miraculously fit both Dahlia's round hips and Sam's long square frame.

Despite how small their space was, Dahlia loved that arrangement. Sam was her childhood friend, and having her near felt right. They'd been together since diapers, really, and she couldn't imagine someone who'd have known her better. Sadly, Sam wasn't there to listen to her disastrous date tonight. Could that even still be considered a date? Dahlia tried to stop thinking about it, or she knew she'd get insomnia again. She put on her calming piano with rain sounds playlist, and changed into her pajamas, a black silk ensemble. She braided her hair while doing her breathing exercises. It was probably lucky that it was raining tonight, as it’d help her sleep? Perhaps she should have, but Dahlia didn't feel like reading tonight; instead, she just laid in her bed, turned the lights off, and listened to the piano and rain sounds, hoping to find a peaceful sleep tonight.

She was standing in a field of wildflowers. It was green all around, with little sparks of color here and there from tiny flowers. It felt good, like a spring morning. A few white clouds in the sky, and the gentle feel of sunshine on her skin. She was barefoot, but the ground was so soft, like a carpet of smooth, lean grass. She walked around, extending her hands around her to caress the flowers. She could hear birds singing from some hideout. There was a forest ahead. An old forest, with big, thick trees. So many trees, and their dark, green leaves that cast a shadow around them... A world of darkness and unknown.

Someone familiar called her name; she didn't answer. She walked towards that forest, pushed by curiosity. What was beyond the flower field? What hid in that green darkness? She was just curious to see... She kept walking forward, feeling like someone was calling her, again. She didn't look back to see. Her name echoed, somewhere behind her, but she just wanted to see what was in that forest. What was hiding there? She had that feeling. Her heartbeat, expectant, curious to unveil that secret. The gentle flutter of excitement, the flushing in her cheeks, the push on her back. She wanted to see. She had a feeling she knew, but had forgotten. Wasn't it the first time? She just wanted to know, so badly, who was waiting for her there. Who that darkness belongs to. What that familiarity, and sense of belonging was...

Somebody grabbed her. Forcefully, painfully. Held her back. The darkness got closer, ready to capture her. Her breath died in her lungs. The sun was gone, replaced by those oppressing grey clouds; all color was gone, the flowers had died. The grass dried and burned under her feet. She was cold, shivering, and that thin dress wasn't enough. Something was wrong. She felt those hands pulling her again. The forest was growing closer, bigger, and more terrifying. The darkness was near. It was coming over there; the spell was broken. Somebody kept calling her name, but she couldn't escape them. She kept struggling, unable to free herself. The forest was closing around her, and that hand was hurting her, pulling her. She couldn't see it, but she was desperate to free herself. She kept struggling, crying, begging, trying to run away. Run away, anywhere. Anywhere out of that grasp that was strangling her...

"Dahlia! Dahlia!"

She finally opened her eyes. She was back in her bedroom, lit by a dim pink light, and facing her was Sam, looking worried. It took her a second to get back to the present moment, to calm down. She was sweating and in tears; She glanced around, but the room was the same, except for her messy bed and her pillows that had fallen out of it. Sam was in her pajamas, her hair still wet under the towel, looking worried.

"You had a nightmare again," she gently said, caressing Dahlia's cheek. "Are you okay? It took a while to wake you up, I was getting worried."

Dahlia nodded without thinking. She was better, at least now that she was awake... She was still sweating though, and embarrassed. She sat down on her bed, and wiped her tears with the back of her hand.

"...The flower field again?" Sam asked softly.

"Yeah."

The nightmare was always the same, but seemed a bit worse every time. Perhaps because her subconscious mind always knew how it was going to end, there was no escaping it. She forced herself to take deep breaths, and Sam turned on the main light of the room, sitting opposite to her. Their shared alarm clock said one in the morning.

"You came home late," Dahlia noted, with a hoarse voice.

"Yeah, work kept piling up... Do you want something to drink? Your herbal tea is cold, but..."

Dahlia drank it anyway; it was better than feeling that dryness in her throat. It had gone a bit bitter by now, but at least it was cold enough to help her calm down a little. Meanwhile, Sam sat on the edge of her bed, taking off her towel and letting her black curls fall on her shoulders. She smelled like their peach shampoo.

"...Victoria told me about the date. Don't worry about it, alright? You know Vic really doesn't mind, she just agreed to set you up this one time. I told her not to do that again, I should have stopped her in the first place."

"No, it's okay. You both were trying to help."

A faint silence followed, as Sam dried her hair, and Dahlia glanced at the window; it was half-open, and the rain had stopped. Cool air was flowing in, helping her calm down. She grabbed the little towel kept in the drawer of their bedside table, and wiped her sweat a bit; her nocturnal terrors were so frequent that she had to have this item ready.

"I'm sorry," she said. "You can't sleep properly because of me..."

"Dahlia, I can't sleep properly because I'm swamped with work," Sam chuckled. "I wasn't in bed yet, what are you talking about? Plus, it's not like I chose to share a room with you without knowing. You know I'm used to it. I'm more worried about you, your dark circles are getting worse. Did you try those eye masks Victoria got you?"

"Not yet," Dahlia confessed, wondering where she'd put those. "...Did you eat?"

"As if I'd pass on Helen's cooking. Well, it might not be a bad idea to try those eye patch things, let's try them tomorrow morning. But for now, you need to get to bed and catch some sleep, Dahlia. Don't worry, I'm right here."

Just like a mom or an older sister, Sam gently helped her get back in her bed, picking up the fallen pillow, pulling the sheet over her and making sure the quilt was covering her feet. Her mere presence was enough to help Dahlia calm down, at least a bit. Sam had always been by her side, without judging how strange she was, only offering whatever support she needed. At times, Dahlia wondered what she'd done to deserve such a friend.

"Don't think useless things," Sam whispered as if she'd read her mind. "Just sleep, Dahlia. You really need to rest, alright?"

Dahlia didn't fight anymore. No matter how terrifying her nightmares could be, knowing that Sam would be there when she woke up was already enough comfort. She let her exhausted body drift into sleep. And soon enough, it began again. The nightmare.

She'd been through this so many times, she already knew what was coming. The darkness, shadows everywhere. She had a vague sense that she was dreaming, but she was still powerless. She didn't try to fight it; instead, she hoped she'd get to see and understand more this time around. The scene appeared slowly. She was standing in a field. A large field of wildflowers, under the moonlight. It seemed like a beautiful place, and a beautiful scene. She glanced around. There was a forest behind her, as if she'd just come out of it. She kept looking around for clues, but she seemed to be alone... Until he appeared. She felt his presence before his silhouette appeared on the other side of the flower field. A wave of relief, and happiness, came into her heart.

Something appeared in front of her eyes, and the next second, it tightened around her neck. She was violently pulled back, and fell. It was tight around her throat, strangling her. She tried to scream, or breathe, but her voice wouldn't come out. Somebody shouted, while her body was dragged, back into the darkness that had been behind her. She heard voices, and more shouts, but the pain around her neck intensified. Her fingers tried grabbing the rope, but her body was dragged like a ragdoll in the mud. She couldn't breathe. She was suffocating, her vision going dark...

Dahlia suddenly woke up. She was out of breath, and she touched her throat, as if to check that the rope wasn't there... No, she was fine. She let out a long sigh. She was back in her room, with Sam deep asleep next to her. She was covered in cold sweat, and still shaken up by her nightmare. The alarm clock indicated it was about 5 in the morning. She grabbed the blanket at the end of her bed, and got up.

There was no use trying to fall back asleep; she'd dream of another death, again.