The Hell Flower

The Hell Flower #3

It was too early for the sunrise, but the sky had begun taking shades of purple rather than dark blue. Silently, Dahlia made her way down the stairs, and into the kitchen. To her surprise, it wasn't empty. Clara was there, in her pajamas, her eyes on her notepad and a bowl of cereal in front of her. She raised her eyes, surprised to see Dahlia so early.

"Your nightmares again?" she guessed.

"Yeah... How about you? You're up early."

"I didn't sleep," Clara sighed. "These exams are stressing the hell out of me. I wish I knew how Victoria survives only on coffee with this little sleep..."

Clara was the youngest of them, and coincidentally, she hated coffee and anything bitter. Dahlia prepared herself a bowl of cereal too, noting on the grocery notepad on the fridge that they would soon be running out. She noted for herself to buy some more oat milk, and borrowed some of Helen's.

"What was it this time? Your nightmare, I mean? Another death?"

"Yeah... I was hung."

Clara grimaced.

"Better than the burning one... What about that date? I saw in the group chat Victoria set you up?"

Dahlia shook her head. She just didn't feel like talking about that disastrous attempt at a date again.

"Don't worry; one day you'll meet the right guy," Clara said.

"I have already-"

Dahlia interrupted herself, biting her lip. Why was she going to answer she already had someone like that...? She'd never had a love relationship in her life. She shook her head, but Clara didn't pick up on that- her eyes were back on her phone, probably reading notes for her exam. Dahlia, however, was still thinking. She hated that. She hated when she got confused and answered something that was false. It wasn't the first time. She'd once answered she'd been to Japan when she knew she'd never set foot there, and she raised her hand in class when asked who spoke French. Forms were the worst. If she weren't careful, she'd enter different dates, tick the married status or answer that she had children. She'd been called a pathological liar by her mother or teachers countless times- but Dahlia knew she didn't mean to lie. She just got confused. Why, she had no idea, but she hated it. She hated acting so strange, and she hated the judgemental stares she got every time she did that. Thus, she was always extra careful with what she said, what she wrote and especially how she answered. She had grown into an introvert not because she was shy, but as a defense mechanism. Sam was the only one who never judged her for it, nor found the odd things she said or did weird. She was the one always to defend Dahlia against the others. Now that they were both grown up, it was a lot easier. Dahlia had learned to pass it off as a joke, or smile and say she had gotten confused by some book she read. Her actual lies were better received.

"Morning, Babes!" Victoria said, suddenly appearing in the kitchen in her gym outfit, her hair in two tight and perfectly symmetrical buns. "Anyone want to go to the gym with me?"

"...It's 5 AM," Clara groaned.

"Best time to get to the gym! There's nobody there at this hour."

"I wonder why..."

"Dahlia? Want to come with me?"

Dahlia was about to say no, but she realized she had more than three hours before her classes started, and nothing to do.

"Can you give me five minutes to change?"

"Deal,” nodded Victoria, peeking at her watch. “See you in five!"

She ran back upstairs, and careful not to wake Sam up, changed into her own gym clothes. She grabbed Sam's trainers and a clean towel and went back down to meet Victoria, who was busy texting the group chat that they were going, in the entrance. They left together, walking as the gym was a short trip away, and as usual, Victoria was as fresh and vibrant as if it was the middle of the day.

"My Dad's coming to town next week; he wants to take us out for dinner again," she said, visibly going through her emails. "My mom's off to the Caribbean islands again... Damn, if that guy messes up the orders again, I swear I'll- You okay, Babe?"

"Yeah, sorry, I have a bit of a headache," Dahlia grimaced, massaging her temple.

"Did you sleep poorly again? Don't overdo it at the gym; you look a bit pale."

"Yeah."

They arrived there, and while Victoria went to do her weightlifting, Dahlia stepped on the treadmill, putting her headphones in. Music helped her calm down, focus on something else, or not think at all. Plus, she could watch Victoria from where she was. Her friend was nothing short of impressive. She was the oldest of their flatshare and a chronic overachiever. At twenty-five, she already had two businesses, shares in several companies, and a few thousand followers admiring her on Social Media. She was also following online training to get a marketing degree and a sign language certification. Despite her family being wealthy and being doted on by her dad, half-brothers and mother, Victoria wanted to be successful on her own. She made it look like there were thirty-six hours in each day, and yet she still found time to hang out with her flatmates or go on dates with Helen. Plus, she had a perfect physical condition, making Dahlia envious of her sharp body figure and sculpted abs in her pastel ensemble. Compared to her, Dahlia found herself to be the skinny-fat type, who couldn't grow muscle and only stayed thin due to her low appetite.

"Come and do some abs with me," Victoria came to get her with a shiny layer of sweat on her russet brown skin. "You might as well try and tone that flat stomach of yours. You'll thank me later."

Dahlia didn't refuse, although she came to regret it twenty minutes later, her body screaming in pain while Victoria effortlessly did triple the exercise she had barely finished. At least, thanks to the exercise, her headache was gone, and luckily for her, it was already time to leave the gym; Victoria had to go to work and Dahlia to her classes. They split up, as Victoria would use the gym's showers and go to work directly from there while Dahlia stopped by home to change and catch up with Sam.

As soon as she got home, Sam stepped into the hallway with a slice of toast in her hand, already dressed in denim pants and a pink tank top, chuckling with her mouth half full.

"Happy Friday! You went to the gym with Vic? ...How bad was it?"

"I'm dead," Dahlia sighed. "Is the bathroom available?"

"Yeah, you should jump in before Helen finishes her yoga, it's her hair wash day, and you know how long it's going to be occupied once she gets in..."

Dahlia nodded and didn't miss her chance. The cool water felt good after the workout. She quickly washed her hair, combing it as she could with the conditioner on, and then stepped out to dry herself quickly. Sam was back in the bedroom putting her makeup on when she walked in to pick up her clothes, the towel around her and her hair in another one.

"Thank goodness the rain stopped," said Sam. "I hate the summer rain; it makes me sweat like a pig... Need help drying your hair?"

"No thanks, I'll let it dry naturally I think. Can I borrow your khaki dress?"

"Sure."

She put on the maxi dress, accessorizing it with a leather belt, a pair of gold earrings Helen had gifted her for her birthday, and her wool cardigan, as it wasn't quite hot yet outside. Next, she took her time half-drying her hair with the towel before taming her curls with her fingers. Then, she put on her concealer and tinted lip balm.

"Ready when you are," she told Sam, putting her bag on her bed.

"We still have a few minutes; I'm dropping off Helen too. Are we going to talk about your second dream? You being hung?"

"Clara told you?" Dahlia frowned.

"I asked her. You don't get up at 5 AM just to go work out with Vic, hun."

Dahlia pouted, but she knew better than to be upset.

"It's the usual," she shrugged. "I'll just start taking the medication again."

"...Dahlia, I hate when you take those drugs," Sam protested. "They're too strong."

"Perhaps, but at least when I take those I get some sleep, and I'm not acting crazy."

"You're not crazy!" Same exclaimed. "Stop using that word."

Dahlia was about to answer, but they were interrupted by a gentle knock on their door; Helen was ready, and she had noticed they were arguing, although she couldn't know why.

"You OK?"

"She wants to take those pills again," Sam said and signed at the same time.

Helen frowned, turning to Dahlia.

"Nightmares again? Don't take the pills!" she signed energetically.

"I'll think about it," Dahlia nodded, grabbing her bag. "Let's go before we're late. Aren't you washing your hair today?"

"Dry shampoo. I'll wash my hair tonight. Let's go!"

They crammed themselves into Sam's small car, a second-hand green Toyota. Helen took the middle backseat, they threw their bags next to her and drove off. Immediately, Dahlia's phone chimed with a text from Helen in their group chat. It was their preferred mode of chatting inside the car, with Dahlia texting in Sam's stead.

"You really shouldn't be taking those pills again," Helen was texting. "You kept having the worst side effects last time."

"She's right," Sam said right after Dahlia was done reading out loud. "I'm not letting you take that s**t again."

"I can't just keep having those nightmares," Dahlia replied. "I'm tired as hell during the day."

"We'll find something else," Helen texted. "I hear homeopathy works well on some people, weighted blankets too. I'll look it up again today, and maybe you should do some yoga with me tonight."

Dahlia wasn't sure what to answer. She had tried yoga before, and the only thing that had improved from it was her flexibility, just a bit. It wasn't as demanding as keeping up with Victoria in the gym, but she wasn't sure this would be a long-term solution. To her surprise, Victoria joined their conversation in the group chat.

"I vote against the drugs too," was her only short text.

"See?" Sam said. "Three out of five, you're outvoted already."

"The flatshare rule doesn't apply to personal stuff," Dahlia retorted.

"It does when it's related to bringing that crap in our house and using it. It's a no."

"How about alcohol?" Victoria sent a new text with a tongue-stuck-out emoji. "Best way to get a deep sleep is to get drunk!"

"Leave it to Vic to solve things by getting hammered... Hey, don't write that in the group chat!"

"You know the rule," Dahlia chuckled. "No blindsiding Helen..."

"Oh f**k, Vic's going to kill me... Don't type that either! Oy!"

Behind, Helen laughed while Victoria was doubled down in the chat.

"Shut up Sam. My solution is the best! And there's a party happening tonight at the club."

"So that's where she was going," sighed Sam. "Party aside, you're not crazy, Dahlia, and you don't need those drugs."

"I am crazy," Dahlia mumbled, although she did type it. "I can see things nobody else sees!"

"It doesn't mean you're insane," Helen replied. "Just because I can't hear anything doesn't mean there aren't sounds."

"But it's the opposite. Most of the population can hear; they can tell you sounds exist. Meanwhile, I'm the only one with those dreams and those... Creepy hallucinations."

"I don't believe they're hallucinations," Helen quickly texted back. "I believe there are things in this world only a few gifted people can see, hear or feel! It's not like you're dangerous or like we don't believe you actually see something. Remember last spring? You were the first to feel that the old lady in the street had passed. If it weren't for you, we wouldn't have checked, and they would have found her body much later!"

"Maybe I realized I wasn't seeing her as much as usual and my subconscious reacted."

"That doesn't make it wrong, nor you crazy. I tell you, this may be hard to hear, but you have a gift."

Dahlia didn't know what to answer again. She knew Helen's optimism couldn't be beaten, and Sam wouldn't budge on the drugs. In the group chat, Victoria bugged them again about the party. Clara was leaving all the texts on read without participating.

"I've got a lot of work; I won't make it to the party," said Sam, pulling up in the University's parking lot. "But you girls should go, you deserve to think about something else, and it should be fairly safe if Vic and Helen are going to."

"I'll think about it."

They stepped out of the car, and Helen came around to give her a hug while Sam was grabbing her bag from the bag seat.

"See you later, girls. Be good," said Sam, walking away.

"Does she forget we're older than her?" Helen signed, amused.

"I know, right? Come on, let's get going."

Sam was younger, but she had gone faster in her studies and was now in her fifth year of biology, while Helen was in her third year, and Dahlia was starting over in the first year after two years in a different subject. The three of them had met two years earlier when Dahlia, who had missed one of her exams because she was unwell, had volunteered to help take Helen's notes for extra credit. Helen was Dahlia's first friend that she felt truly close to, except for Sam, and her positive personality was a breath of fresh air compared to all those years she had been called crazy. Helen herself had been bullied growing up, and she refused to consider Dahlia any more different than she was herself. They didn't have any classes in common anymore, but the girls were still texting each other all day long and catching up during their breaks. Someone else was volunteering to help Helen take notes during her classes, but she hadn't bonded with them like with Dahlia. During one of Dahlia's most boring lectures, she was seated apart from the crowd, on the top row of the lecture hall, a chat tab open, and they were full-on arguing about whether to go to the party as Victoria had suggested.

"It would do you good. I'm not for getting drunk, but it could help you release the pressure a bit!"

"I'm not under pressure. I'm tired from not sleeping."

"You're stressing yourself from not being able to sleep, and being able to sleep even less due to that! Come on, you know we're not going to be partying like animals all night. Maybe just get a drink, have a bit of fun, and we won't be home late. The music's probably not going to be that good anyway."

Dahlia silently chuckled. Helen had an ongoing joke about Victoria's poor tastes in music which they all played along to.

"How's your class?"

"Boring," Dahlia admitted. "I don't think I'm cut out for English Literature either, but I'd hate starting over a third time... The teachers will think I'm a failure. Maybe I should just come back to Psychology. At least I'd be with you."

"It might not be too late to swap for this semester... But you didn't like it, hun. It's not like you quit because you failed. You had good grades despite your condition. Maybe it wouldn't be silly to try another subject?"

"I think I hate being a first year again," Dahlia typed, depressed.

"Maybe you're just not cut out for Uni. You're not the first one not to know what you want to do for a career at your age! If I'd listened to my teachers, I'd do something related to my deafness. Deaf-something, whatever it is. You should listen to yourself. Trial and error is part of the process. You're brilliant, Dahlia, don't hold yourself back."

She smiled at the screen, but she would have hardly called herself brilliant. The only thing she truly thought was impressive was how she'd been able to finish two years with good marks despite her condition. Being tired all the time made it hard for her to focus during lectures, and she had to work twice as hard to catch up on a subject she barely liked. She wished she was more like Sam, who had known exactly what she wanted to do since she was young, and was truly brilliant at it. Compared to her, Dahlia felt like she was drifting away with no direction for her life to take, waiting for maybe a sign or something to nudge her on the right path.

"Let's go to that party," she finally typed back.