Page 61 of Hollyhocks

With the same energy, I get dressed.

“Dressed and Stressed should be your motto, Fitz.” Buttoning my jeans, I continue my morning routine on autopilot.

The feather on the nightstand captures my attention. I pick it up, analyzing it to decide where it could have come from. I remember thinking it was her wings, and I’ve never felt so fucking stupid in my entire life.

The feather is probably from my pillow. It’s the only reasonable solution.

“Because monsters aren’t real, Fitz. At least, not for you.” I slam the light off with my fist, rage burning away the morning fog I typically feel this early.

I don’t usually pity myself but I’m so tired of being let down. There is always fucking something that sets me back. I grew up with awful abusive parents. I took a beating from my father the same night I took my pregnant sister away from that house. I was only eighteen years old working two jobs and getting five hours of sleep between each shift. I helped raise my nephew Elijah and being so young, that wasn’t easy for me or Heather. Then, my best friend went missing and was turned into a monster.

I got him back and I couldn’t be happier, but now with all these unknown things happening to me, I’m not sure how to stay positive. I’m tired of always having to keep my head up, of always pushing through and forward. I’m so sick of waiting to get out on the other side. I’m done fooling myself that this ‘other side’ I have made up in my head is better than the side I have been on my entire life.

One step forward, one hundred steps back it seems. I’m tired. To my bones. To my soul. I need a reset. I’m not sure how much longer I can continue to live like this. This fixation I have on wanting a monster mate is out of control. It’s unhealthy. The hope for her is what will ultimately kill me because I know monsters exist. I see Rhett and Creed nearly every day.

Knowing they exist only reaffirms my dream.

I’m starting to think it is too unrealistic to have what Demi and Mickey have.

“It’s time for the real world, Fitz.”

Going downstairs, I don’t even bother with my coffee. I’m too resigned. I think I’ll go to Demi’s Diner instead. Maybe being around others will lighten my mood after I go to the doctor.

Snagging my hat, I plop it on my head as I snag my keys. It’s cool out so I put on my jacket too, tucking my wallet inside the pocket. When I open the door, the cold air hits me, taking away my breath for a second.

The harshness from the blast of bitter cold pulls me from my stupor a little. For some reason, all I can think about is planting a variety of different colored hollyhocks in front of my porch. If I plant them now, maybe by summer they could bloom. Seeing them would bring me so much happiness, reminding me of a time when life was hard yet so good.

When it was just my sister and I living in a one-bedroom apartment and barely making rent, our neighbor would bring us freshly picked hollyhocks from her garden every single week.

They were the only pop of color in our bland apartment. We couldn’t afford anything else. The walls were blank. We couldn’t afford to put photos up anywhere because we couldn’t afford to print them. I gave my sister the closet and I lived out of a suitcase.

I remember asking her why she kept bringing these flowers to us and I’ll never forget what she said.

“Hollyhocks symbolize fortune and eternal life, but not only that, they bring love and healing. I notice you need them all. These flowers will give you what you need in your soul. Think of them like armor, protecting you when you have no idea you need protection. Just wait and see.”

So many years later, I can’t help but wonder if her wild theory was right, and I’m starting to think I need to take a page from her book.

Every week when she came over was my favorite time. I was always curious about what color combinations she would come up with. I became fascinated. All from a simple flower. Do I think those flowers got me to where I am?

No, they are only flowers. And yet, they made me believe in myself and that’s all I needed. Without that neighbor bringing those gifts to us every week, I’m not sure where my sister and I would be. That simple act of kindness lifted us from the mud we found ourselves in.

Thinking of hollyhocks reminds me of my new neighbor. My attention swivels from the empty lawn to Holly’s house.

I’m curious what she is up to. Why would she leave without saying goodbye?

I need to leave her alone. This isn’t fair to her. The monster I see reminds me so much of the symbolization of the hollyhock flower. Resigning myself to a normal life, I swing the key ring around my finger while I head to my truck.

It’s time to put her out of sight and out of mind. That’s easier said than done. I’m addicted to the vision my mind creates when she is around. I want more. I want to stare at her all day, bathe myself in hopes that she is real, and dream of her time and time again.

I’d be so lost in the dreams of her, I’d never want to wake up.

Too bad that isn’t a choice.

Climbing into my truck, I take one last look at her house, drive away, and put her in my rearview.

I press the Bluetooth button on the steering wheel. “Call Heather,” I say with clear and concise dictation so the damn computer can understand me.

“Calling Heather,” the truck’s ‘voice’ replies.

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