•spencer's SWC horror daily #6•

Instructions

Hii! This is daily #6 for SWC. Forums are unfortunately still down. This was very rushed, but enjoy anyways ig :') "Hey there, buttercup." The voice comes from behind me. It's like a jolt of lightning, electrifying me from limb to limb. I know that voice. Hearing it's like childhood, like laughter in a quiet classroom, when the teacher looks down on you disapprovingly. It's the voice of Rowyn. The last I saw of her, she was in a car, cold, salty tears streaming down both of our faces. That was 4 years ago. We were just 12 years old. I turn, trying to keep my cool. Sure enough, it's her. I remember every curve on her face, every strand of hair that she struggles to keep out of her face. Is it... yes, it's the exact same hairband that I'd seen every of my life for 12 years, practically since birth. l'd missed that face for four years. 48 months. 1,460 days. There's no words to speak. A huge, splitting smile crosses my face before we both grab hands and drop to our knees together, quietly crying tears of joy. Periwinkle flowers spread around our legs, and I run one free hand over them, desperately, as if I can't believe this is real. Memories come flashing back, of our years together. I pluck one of the soft blue flowers, and tuck it into Rowyn's hair. "Nice to see you again, buttercup." Buttercup. Our nickname for each other- the yellow blooms that we felt perfectly showcased our lives together in childhood friendship. "It's been too long. We haven't talked in how long?" "Four years." Four years. When she looks at me, I let out a breath I'd been holding for four years straight. To keep myself from breaking down, I redirect my attention to the blue flower in her hair. "It's a nice color. Really suits you." We both know the words are so much more than I can breathe meaning into. All the memories. The cherished time I'd taken for granted. But most of all, her. God, how I'd missed her. No, not just her. The very essence of our friendship. I take the feelings and redirect them into the flower. "It sure does." A gentle response to my unspoken words. With that, I collapse into her arms, crying. It felt like coming home, like returning to a place full of memories. Because I was. Rowyn holds me for a moment, then pulls something out of her sweater pocket with her free hand. "I need you to have this." But then she freezes for a moment, and her eyes go blank. "Have what?" I ask nervously. This is getting odd. "I need you... to have this..." she repeats, over and over again, until the words don't sound real, until her voice is twisted, and the very being of Rowyn, my best friend, is lagging like a computer that's run the same code one too many times. It's horrifying. She drops my other hand, and I cry out. Then, as if she was simply never there to begin with, she's gone. I fall the small distance from her vanished lap to the floor and catch myself with my palms. I lay there for a moment, processing what just happened. A single everlasting pea flower, in all its magenta glory, lays on my lap. I remember everything we did together, all of the goofing off, the tears and laughter exchanged, as if the flower controls my mind. And then I wake up in a cold sweat, tears down my cheeks.