"the day I died,
I didn't tell my body."

By the time I reached my house, it was way past midnight. And Mum was still awake.

"Ophelia."

I didn't mean to flinch so violently at that, I really didn't. And Mum didn't miss it. She frowned, got up from the stool she was sitting on and walked towards me. I stayed frozen in the hallway.

"I'm sorry." My voice came out hoarse, unsure. "Mum, I can...I can explain why it took me so long to get back here."

But could I really? Wasn't I just going to lie to her?

She was shaking her head when I looked up at her. She was worried, I realised. She must've been worried for a while now. I had seen her missed calls on my phone, the ones that I hadn't answered. Everyone else was asleep. I didn't know if I was relieved about that or not.

"You're drunk." I saw her scrunching up her nose. "Lia, why--okay, I'm not doing this right now. It's way too late to wrap my head around this."

She was angry. And worried too.

"Go up to your room. I'll speak with you in the morning." She seemed to be shaking her head again, almost as if she couldn't believe this.

I nodded quietly.

"And you're grounded." She added sternly. "You're grounded until you finally tell me what the hell is going on with you."

I nodded again, feeling too exhausted to even say anything. Mum waited before I started making my way upstairs to my room until she retreated to her room too.

It didn't take me long to fall asleep. Probably one of the few nights I had any decent sleep. Maybe that was because my mind had already worked up too much during the night and all that it brought me.

I didn't want to think anymore. I wanted to sleep and I wanted to be pulled away from this, from all of this.

That was all I could think about at that moment. As I lay down on my bed, with the thought of sleeping pills all around me. Thousands of those.

I wanted to fall asleep for a long long time.

******

By the time I stepped into the lounge the next morning, everyone was awake. Mostly because it was almost noon by now and everyone in my family woke up way before noon on Sundays.

"Lia!" Mason exclaimed and I held back a wince. My head was pounding. This is what real hangovers were like."Mum made blueberry pancakes!"

"Mason, stop shouting," Mum told him before ruffling his extremely unruly bedhead. I saw her gaze shifting towards me and she nodded, silently gesturing me to follow her inside the kitchen.

I did as she asked.

"Eat up." She handed me a plate full of pancakes. It was a little hard to figure out whether she was still pissed at me or not. "There's some Aspirin in that cabinet. Take it once you're done with breakfast."

I didn't try to refuse. Besides, I was kind of hungry. And those pancakes looked delicious, even if they were blueberry pancakes. So I went back to the table and busied myself with my plate. My stomach churned dangerously every time I took a bite. I still wanted to throw up, and not just because of the hangover, but because I remembered last night a little too clearly.

"How was the kissing booth you guys put up last night?" Helen asked me. I glanced up at her and noticed how there wasn't any kind of teasing hint in her voice or the way she was looking at me. She sounded like she genuinely wanted to know.

"It was..." I trailed off, clearing my throat. "It was good."

"What is the kissing booth?" Mason asked curiously.

Mum changed the topic. "Okay. So who's helping me out at the shop today?"

"You're opening the shop on a Sunday?" Helen sounded incredulous.

"Yeah. I've got to get some bouquets ready for a charity event." Mum said. "Lia, are you coming with me?"

I looked up at her, only to find that she was already looking at me, waiting. There was probably a reason why she was asking me to come along with her. Last night, in particular. She's going to ask me about last night.

"Yeah." I nodded, pushing my half-finished plate away. "Sure."

The doorbell rang. And it was Nora when she came rushing inside, right when Helen opened the door. Helen left the house, probably going to one of her friends, and Mum looked ready to leave too.

"Lia!" Nora exclaimed and came rushing inside the kitchen. "Morning, Mrs H. Mase."

She didn't however pay them much attention. All her attention was on me.

"I need to talk to you." She pointed an index finger at me, her nails painted a bright red. I could see that it was something serious by the way she was trying so hard not to frown at me. Nora hated frowning. And if she was frowning right now, well, that was serious.

I looked back at Mum. "I'll meet you at the shop in a few minutes?"

Mum seemed like she'd refuse, but nodded anyway. Maybe because she could have sensed, just as much as me, that Nora did not look like she would be going away anytime soon. Not without talking to me first.

So we talked. But after I had ingested some pills to cure the killer headache I was having at the moment.

"What's up?" I asked her as we entered my bedroom.

"What's up?" She exclaimed, her hands up in the air. "Last night, Lia! And you weren't even the one I heard it from."

My heart stilled for a tiny second there. Truth be told, I had no idea which specific detail she was talking about. After all last night hadn't been good in any way.

"What are you talking about?" I asked her before slowly sitting down at one corner of my bed. Nora remained standing, looking like she wanted to pace. She was dressed up a little too nicely, with knee-high boots and all, for such an early morning.

"Steph told me that you nearly had a panic attack at the art studio you two ran away to."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," I said. Was that what she had wanted me to say?

She shook her head. "Lia, that's not--I don't want you to apologize. And it's not just the fucking panic attack. You even kissed Noah!"

I blinked up at her, pulling my sweater sleeves over my fingers and curling them on my lap. "That..." I trailed off.

"What?" Nora was still frowning. I wanted to ask her to stop frowning. It wasn't nice seeing her frown. "Lia, why did you?"

"I was drunk," I whispered miserably, shaking my head. "I didn't mean to."

Liar, a tiny voice rang in my ears.

Nearly gritting my teeth, I blurted out, "Actually, yeah. I did mean to. I'm so fucking tired of it, Nora. I can't...I couldn't do it anymore."

Her frown softened and she leaned back on the closed bedroom door, still looking at me.

"Tired of what?" She asked.

"I'm tired of seeing him everywhere." I fisted my hands in my lap. "I can't get him out of my head. The nightmares don't help. Nothing is helping me. I just...I just thought if I kissed Noah, kissed anyone last night, he'd get out of my head. Just for one normal night. I wanted to feel normal."

I saw the sympathy in her eyes. I hated it.

"You mean Alastair." She murmured. I nodded helplessly. "But Lia--look, I get it. Not all of it, but I get it. Still, do you really think Noah is the wisest option? And no way in hell am I saying that because I'm jealous and god knows what else. I hate him. I don't care whose mouth he goes around shoving his tongue into."

I grimaced at that.

"But I care about you, Lia," Nora added, shaking her head again. "You can't...you know how he is."

"I know."

Nora didn't seem convinced.

"I know how he is," I repeated, feeling my nails digging into my palm, hurting the skin there. "I didn't mean to. I didn't. I just...can't help it these days. It feels like I'm losing what little control I have over myself, Nora. It's insane up here," I told her, pointing a finger at my forehead. "I'm going insane."

Nora scrunched up her nose. "Don't say that."

"I'm not lying." I looked at her, my eyes wide and desperate for some reason. "I am going crazy."

"Why are you saying that?" She looked a little more worried now, moving towards me, all until she was seated beside me on my bed. "Lia, don't--"

"I saw him there." I cut her off, and it felt like someone was squeezing my throat, my lungs, my chest all over again. Just like last night. "At the art studio."

I told her every single detail of last night. And it was bizarre that I remembered everything even if I had been drunk out of my mind. I told Nora everything and she listened quietly, taking it all in.

When I finished speaking, I realised I was actually out of breath, and I had to inhale deeply. I felt terrified.

"You..." Nora trailed off, her eyes wide. "You saw him. You saw Alastair. And you're telling me that you saw him that other night too, at the New Year's party that you went to."

"Even if he was--is supposed to be dead," I added and clenched my fists tighter. I was so scared.

Nora looked at a loss for words.

"See?" I laughed, and then early cringed at how miserable it sounded. "I am going crazy, Nora. Something's wrong with me. Really wrong with me."

Nora shook her head, biting her lower lip.

"No, no. Shut up. There has to be an explanation for this." She was looking around my room, "You can't be hallucinating. Lia, you just told me he touched you last night. That he felt real."

"He's dead," I stated it out a little too firmly. "I saw him dead, Nora."

She seemed troubled, just as much as I felt on the inside.

"Someone else must've seen him too." She spoke up. "Maybe Steph saw him too."

I shook my head. "Nora, he's dead. Why are you...don't. Don't do this. Please." The last word came out as a desperate plea. Nora's eyes flew to me and she closed her mouth shut, softly shaking her head.

"You told me he has a twin." She whispered.

I swallowed. "Look, I can't...I can't talk about this. Mum's already worried because of me. She won't like it if I'm late."

"Lia," Nora gripped my arm before I could have stood up. "Don't tell me you haven't thought about that before."

He has a twin.

I shook my head again. I didn't want to speak out loud. God, I was tired of those tears and those empty sobs that wracked my body. I hated crying.

"He's dead," I repeated once again, clenching my jaw. "I would know if he wasn't, Nora."

She thankfully let it go after that. Maybe she saw my eyes misting over with tears, or maybe she heard the silent plea in my voice. She let it go. And I was glad that she did.

Because hope never got me anywhere. It just pulled me into that cold darkness again. Dark. Scary. Lonely.

******

Mum was all alone by the time I entered the family shop. It smelled like roses, more so than it usually did, and I found out the cause pretty quickly.

The bouquets for the charity event. They were supposed to be white roses.

"Hey, Mum," I murmured, stopping in front of her, right behind the long marble counter. "Isn't Andy coming?"

Mum looked up from the pile of wrapping papers that were spread out in front of her. "Oh no, it's a day off remember? I just came here to sort some things out. Like get started on these bouquets."

I nodded, avoiding her gaze as best as I could've. She wasn't asking me about last night. I didn't know how to feel about that. I didn't know whether I felt frustrated or relieved. Maybe I just wanted her to ask me about it, have that talk, and just get it over with.

"White roses." I broke the silence again, looking up at her this time. She wasn't looking at me though, too busy with the work at hand. "Pretty bland for a charity event, huh?"

Mum hummed in response before adjusting the glasses on her nose. I couldn't help but notice the underlying weariness in her eyes. She looked a little tired. I don't know why that made me feel sad. Was it because of me, because of last night? Was it because of the constant fights she had with Dad? Would she tell me if I asked her?

"And these white hawthorns," Mum replied, raising a brow. "They seem to love white flowers."

I blinked in surprise before slowly lowering myself down on one of the stools near the counter. Mum wasn't messing with me, I realised when she picked up a bunch of familiar little flowers and I got a small whiff of their scent. The scent was already in the air, but maybe I hadn't paid much attention to it before. It smelled like nostalgia. It smelled like old times. It smelled like familiarity.

The hawthorns.

"You...you never had those before," I murmured.

Mum looked up at me, raising both of her brows this time. "Never had what?"

I swallowed. "Those flowers. The hawthorns."

"Yeah, well, they don't grow well here," Mum said, passing me a small smile. "Why? You seem fond of them. I suppose they are beautiful, like little specks of snow. You've still got a thing for snow, don't you?" Mum always found beauty in every flower. Perhaps that was why she loved working at this shop so much.

I stared at the familiar white hawthorns on the counter, quite easily remembering the last time I had them in my hands. The day Alastair and I went to the cemetery, to visit his parent's graves. He gave me a blue gardenia back then, I thought. And I had left it there to wither and die.

He loved me. He kept telling me, reminding me that, every single time. Then why did he leave me? Why did he have to leave me? Why was it that he left me like this, and I kept seeing him, remembering him, hurting myself over and over again?

"Lia."

I looked up at Mum, breaking out of my thoughts.

"What is this about?" She asked me, frowning. I realised that she wasn't wrapping up the bouquets anymore.

I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out. Mum ended up sighing before pulling out a chair near her and sitting across from me, fixing me with her gaze.

"Lia," She started softly. "I'm worried about you, sweetheart. Something is going on with you and you're really worrying me. What happened? You've never been like this. This distant. Zoned out. And then...getting drunk at a college festival? I know you don't like getting drunk."

I don't, I wanted to tell her. I hated getting drunk. I didn't know what came over me last night. Everything was scaring me. Because I was slowly losing it all.

"They grew there in Oak Valley," I said, then nudged my chin towards the familiar hawthorns splayed across the counter when Mum looked confused. "They were...special to me."

Mum nodded slowly. "So it's about that boy Alastair."

I shifted a little uneasily. "What?"

"Luce told me." She said, her voice coming out soft and sad. "She didn't say it all, but she did tell me something." Then a smile broke on her lips. Even that looked sad. Was it just because I felt so immensely sad right now? "Besides, I think I know what a broken heart looks like. You weren't the same when you got back."

Broken heart, I repeated in my head.

"I didn't...I don't have a broken heart." I murmured. It wasn't broken. I didn't think it was. Not when I couldn't even feel anything there sometimes. It was empty there. Dark and sad and empty.

"But you miss him," Mum replied.

"That's what happens when people die," I whispered, looking down at the counter and not her eyes. "You miss them."

Silence, that's all there was for the next few seconds. All until Mum exhaled heavily and picked up a transparent wrapping sheet from one corner, sliding it towards me.

"But you move on too." She said.

I took the sheet but didn't make a move to pick up the flowers. "That's easier said than done."

Mum didn't spare me another glance. "You move on, Lia." She repeated. "You don't stupidly destroy yourself over it. You don't ruin yourself over it. You stay sane. You move on and forget."

Forget. I couldn't believe Mum was saying this.

But wasn't that what Alas would've wanted too? To move on, yes, but he wouldn't want me to forget it all. He wouldn't want me to forget him. Not having him in that little amount of time I got to spend with him, not having him in those memories, made it harder to breathe. He'd always be here. I don't think I could ever forget him.

"I...I don't know how to move on, Mum." I told her, hearing the small desperate plea in my voice; the hidden misery.

Mum looked up at me, momentarily forgetting about the work in hand again. I saw the sadness in her eyes this time. It surprised me. She wasn't trying to be mean, I realised. She just wanted to save me before I fell apart for good this time.

"You do know how." She whispered. "It's just that you don't want to, Lia."

I didn't want to forget him.