Aesthete

Chapter 30.

I was strumming my fingers along the wooden guitar with my grandfather's name carved on it. I sighed, smiling and singing an old tune my mother would hum constantly. The morning was one of the most beautiful dawns I've ever seen. I relaxed on the hammock, watching my thinly scarred legs swinging back and forth. The blades of grass shifted with the wind calmly, mimicking the small bunches of flowers that were littered throughout the clearing, beyond the field lied a mesmerizing woods, enticing me to venture inside. Still, I remained seated and noticed my grandfather pluck an orange from the tree he stood next to as I observed him and the sky, it was bright blue with the purest white clouds floating through.

"Grandpa, come here, I made some breakfast for you." I waved to him, gesturing to the wooden table that laid beneath the porch of my grandfather's small, cottage-like home. He laughed, carrying the picnic basket and placing it where I was at. I laid the guitar down gently, stretching my arms out as I yawned.

"I'm so sleepy, I guess I haven't gotten enough rest lately, huh?" I questioned, sitting in a bench beside him while we ate breakfast. I had cooked eggs with toast and bacon, adding a bowl of oatmeal for my grandpa because he always appreciated it.

"Yes, flower, you've been exerting your body too much. That's why you're here." He replied casually, patting my head before returning to his meal. He watched me carefully for a second before adding, "Aren't you wondering why we're eating together, child? You know you're supposed to be in Japan right now."

I giggled, flashing him a sheepish smile, "I suppose it's just another one of those complexities of the universe, I'm just happy to be with you." I looped my hands around his fragile arm, carefully leaning on him as I let him enjoy the rest of the meal. We watched the movement of the Earth beyond us, the tranquility of the moment was something I hadn't reveled in for years. I knew what happened, at the last second before Shota Aizawa could see me, the ground split open and absorbed my body so fast that it seemed like I was never home.

I slept, I wasn't sure for how long, but the abyss of pure black unconsciousness didn't terrify me, I was content with the decision I made. I rested peacefully, letting Mother Nature do whatever it needed to as I lied underground, feeling nothing except the soft whispers of the roots I was near. I had no dreams, no thoughts in my mind as I shifted along the Earth. Finally, I woke up today, opening my eyes to see myself on the same white quilt, the same bed and guest room from my grandfather's house. I was adorned with a simple white dress that reached my knees, I stood to move the soft green curtains and glance outside. My grandfather was wearing his favorite jean overalls and straw hat, grinning up to the sky as he roamed along the field, touching the randomly splayed orange trees. I beamed, running down the stairs to prepare a meal for him, something that I had been longing to do.

He wasn't startled to see me, it was as if he knew that I would end up with him eventually. That's when I caught myself in the ovular, silver mirror that hung in the living room. I studied my appearance, feeling nothing but a small twinge of sadness and an overwhelming acceptance to my looks. My body was no longer ridden with bruises or blood clots, it seemed I was absolved of most injuries. I still had the same, shoulder length hair with bangs framing my face. My facial features were left intact, skin still the caramel tint, eyes still the same dull brown, except there was a soft pink scar that ran under my chin and across the entire area of my neck. My arms carried smaller scars, not too thick but notable enough, my legs were no different, keeping the same scar I had that was a skirmish drag from my lower calf. I lifted my dress to peek inside and glance at my stomach, the same drag that was on my leg was now all over the abdominal region. I frowned slightly, before shrugging and shaking my head to exit my grandfather's home.

My grandfather's voice snapped me out of reliving my memory, "Florence, let's take a walk." I liked the suggestion, helping him stand as we stepped down and off the porch. We strolled through the field leisurely, my eyes settled on the rows of tulips that were several yards away.