his star

𝐋𝐈𝐈𝐈

𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨

𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝟷𝟻𝚝𝚑, 𝟷𝟿𝟿𝟽

When I was five years old, I cried because my sunflower was dying.

I always thought I made that image up in my head, always thought that the tears didn't exist because they must have been some kind of fog my mind put underneath my eyes. I was so sure that something this ridiculous couldn't have happened in real life until mother once showed me the jar in which she sealed the flower inside.

This must be one of my first memories and even if it happened years ago, I can still see myself running on the soil - laughter of a child filling up my ears until I come to a halt in front of a patch of gold. Rays of sun putting each of them into the spotlight but all I could focus on was the small plant that was growing right in front of me.

My knees turned brown when I let myself fall to the ground, matching the hight of the sunflower that was ripped out of the earth by me. I sprinted home with my new friend in my hands, smiling because it looked like the sun which made me feel like I achieved something big.

Not many people had the chance to hold the sun in their hands, I thought. Not many people could hold it without burning their hands so I must have been stronger than others, I thought.

Mother's nose was pressed against the petals, hands ruffling through my hair and pinching my cheek that started to hurt because of the grin I seemed to never get rid of.

"You need to take a bath, sweetheart." is what mother had said to me but all I cared about was whether water would hurt my sun.

I was scared that it would stop shining in gold and starting to turn into silver instead. I remember how nervous I was when mother pulled out her wand to fill up the empty vase on our dining table, stocking my flower inside it and showing me that it was still alive even when I put it out of my hands - showing me that it won't ever stop glowing.

One day, I sat myself on the stairs, letting myself slide down because it was much more fun to do that than simply using my feet that were too small to take such large steps anyway. I hurried into our dining room, smiling because I knew my friend was waiting for me, but once I saw the empty vase, I felt how tears left my eyes.

It died. My sunflower died and even after mother hugged me as tightly as she could, reassuring me that she put it safely aside so it can keep growing once more, I never viewed it as the same.

The sun wasn't supposed to die. My friend wasn't supposed to leave me only after two days of being together, but it did. I now know that every flower has to die at some point and although this memory feels like it has been collected by another human being than me, I can now be sure that I truly saw it with my own eyes because as I view the girl that is sleeping next to me, the same golden shimmer is put on her skin even though the sun isn't shining.

She looks like a sunflower which is standing on a light brown field on a summer morning, clear white clouds hiding the sun but making room for the most golden rays of light to shine through them - enabling them to turn the yellow into a shade of gold that should have the power to dazzle my eyes because no one should be allowed to look at something so beautiful without experiencing some kind of pain, some kind of punishment for viewing the unbelievable.

It's almost like the five-year-old me cried because it had to say goodbye in order to let time bring my sunflower back to me at a proper moment, at a time of life where I would need it more badly. I let it go, wandered through the world with a silver filter in front of my eyes just to be granted with the golden eyes and skin of the girl who doesn't even need the sun to shine more brightly than all the other humans and plants to exist.