𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝒾𝓉 𝒶𝓁𝓁 // BL

𝘚𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨. (𝘒𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘗𝘖𝘝)

I gently touch the milky leaves of my Snowdrop flower.

It's blooming now, its white petals sadly bowing its heads to mourn the passing of the winter. I smear the dirt off of my hands across my splotchy painting apron, wiping the sweat off my brow with a forearm.

I'd moved most of my plants out to the patio because of the warmer weather, but as I look around with a sinking feeling I realize there's still so many that need to be moved outside.

My hands reach around to pat my pockets, searching for my phone. When I finally pull it out, I go to dial the number but my hand hovers instead. Xavier and I had been hanging out nearly everyday this week and I wasn't sure he would appreciate me calling him for the third time today. I sigh, tucking my phone back into the side pocket of my jeans.

     Walking over to the living room I decide that maybe I'll just go see him instead of calling again. I reach for my bronze keys absentmindedly as I try to remember if I already watered the-

     My keys fall right off the hook, clinking to the ground in a symphony of soft metallic crinkling. I step forward to bend down and get them but instead my foot kicks them under the sofa.

     I groan inwardly, knees cracking as I get down on all fours to peer under the sofa. It's dark, obviously. I don't have a flashlight so my best bet is to feel around for the ring of the keys. I lean over to rest on my right shoulder as I strain my arm against the cold floor. My fingers wriggle and stretch around the empty air, seeking the familiar coolness of the keychain.

     As I continue to reach around impatiently, my fingers brush over a starchy cloth and I freeze. I feel the cloth again, and again and again, almost in disbelief. This is where it's been all these years?  Hands shaking, I pull on it steadily, sliding it out from underneath the sofa. 

      All I can do is stare at first. I pick it up, turning it over in my hands. I bring it to my nose, inhaling the sweet, flowery scent of my mother until I can't inhale anymore. As I shakily exhale, I stare at her polka dot head wrap. It is tied neatly, and looks like the gift wrapping for a present. As I squeeze it a bit, confused, I can hear the crinkling of something inside it. 

     I can't believe it. I think to myself over and over and over again. 

***

"Where is it?" 

My mothers panicked, desolate voice floated from her bedroom.

    I looked up from where I was sitting on the sofa, my sketchbook open faced in my lap. "Where is what?" I called back irritably. I didn't want to stop drawing, but the tone in her voice was alarming. She emerged from her bedroom, leaning back against the door as it closed. She tried to smile, but her eyes were glassy with pain and frustration. "My head scarf." She smoothed her hands over her bare head, stroking it absentmindedly. Her eyebrows were almost gone, and the realization was disheartening enough to make me turn my head away as I answered.

     "I dunno. What did it look like?"  I mumbled, closing my sketchbook and heaving myself up to help her look. She continued smoothing her hands over her scalp, trying to catch her breath. "It looked like....it was pink. Pink with Blue polka dots." Her eyes were clouded with emotion. "I thought I had put it somewhere I'd remember...that's why.." She squeezed her eyes shut and let out a frustrated exclamation of breath. 

      I was already on my feet, searching high and low for it. We searched the house for what seemed like hours. We looked in her bedroom, in the garden, in the kitchen. We upturned plants,  checked her car, and searched every room.