Page 40 of Poetry of Flowers

His eyes making me feel

Powerful

Strong

Tall

“I am so scared” I tell the reflection in the mirror

So vulnerable in this world

My eyes make me feel

Anxious

Scared

Alone

For once, I wished I had a protector like me.

And that loneliness wasn’t my destiny.

ChapterTwelve

MATILDA

My brother was very sweet but also a naïve soul.

We both always had a hard time at school because we got special treatment from the teachers, which our classmates hated.

I didn’t mind getting made fun of for this, but I drew the line when it came to Remy.

When he told me he didn’t want to go to school because the day before his new “friends” had stolen his shoes and told him to ask his mommy to buy him new ones, I had to revise my decision to join my friends on the way to Chicago.

Kids that age were disgusting, but what disgusted me more was the fact that they had pretended to be his friends for an entire week just to make this stupid joke.

“We’re going to buy you some new shoes, Remy, alright?” Aunt Cecily stroked his cheek with her thumb while he leaned against her side.

My aunt was an angel sent from heaven, she tried to take us from Dad when she noticed that he couldn’t take care of us properly, but he didn’t want that. I was too young to know whether she threatened him with involving CPS or not. I just know we stayed at home, but Aunt Cecily took us in on the weekends most of the time.

“I don’t want to go to school,” my brother sobbed again.

Aunt Cecily knelt in front of him and wiped his tears away. “Then you don’t have to go, darling; we’re going to just spend a wonderful day together. First, we’ll buy you new shoes, and then let’s see what’s playing in the theater. Would you like that?”

Her voice was soft, just like her features, Autumn had gotten her looks from her mother.

She looked so much like Mom. Aunt Cecily was four years older than my mother, but they always looked like twins to everyone.

“Thank you, Aunt Ceci.”

Hearing his broken voice through the sobs broke my heart, I wished I could take all his pain away. That I could carry his load for him; he didn’t deserve any of this.

Our aunt pulled him in her arms, “Aww, my boy, you don’t need to thank me, I love spending time with my babies. But now you have to say goodbye to Maddy. She’s going on a school trip for a week.”

The guilt of this lie scratched on the inside of my throat, struggling to get out.

I had always hated lies. Anyway, they made the liar suffer more than the person who was being lied to.

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