#Aev Venallen

[elitexlumiere]

A/N: Most, if not all, of the health-related information here are found in the internet. The Hanahaki Disease is a fictional illness so treatment to this is also fictional. I don’t study/practice Medicine so most of the information here are researched and/or discussed with an almost-a-doctor kind of friend. I’m also not a botanist or a plant-loving kind of person so I’m not really a hundred percent sure about the plant/s I used in the story.

In Bloom by: Aev Venallen

Clarisse was not exactly sure when it started. She could only remember the times her best friend, Liam, looks at her in concern whenever she would pound on her chest, the feeling of suffocation tight on her throat. She didn’t really want to worry him, so she pushed his concerns and frowns aside, saying that she was fine and that maybe the feeling would go away in a few days.

It didn’t. It’s already been two months and no, that feeling didn’t go away like she expected any ordinary cough or cold would, which actually scares the hell out of her but wouldn’t admit in front of Liam. She felt worse than the first time, seeing as she’d been coughing more violently the past few days and there was a weird throbbing inside her stomach which was threatening to get out of her chest. If she could, she would have already clawed whatever it was inside out of her system. Of course she didn’t tell Liam that she was feeling all those things. She was frightened enough for the both of them.

With the insistence of the annoying best friend and just as annoying close friends, she was there, sitting beside him at the waiting room, playing with his long fingers to pass time. Clarisse ignored the fluttering in the depths of her stomach when his fingers tightened on hers, the silver ring he loved to wear grazing the skin of her fingers. She must’ve been really nervous, since her stomach keeps on acting up, like there were multiple sets of butterflies flying around, probably dodging their way around her organs or something. She sent him a nervous grin, which he returned with a gummy smile making her feel relieved, but it didn’t really make the “butterflies” stop, much less the bouncing of her leg.

Clarisse thought that she shouldn’t even be here, white, cold, sterile hallways, in the first place, her body stiff and uncomfortable with both the hard, wooden bench they were sitting on and the tense atmosphere of not knowing what was wrong with her. She never did like hospitals. She felt constricted, too conscious of the people’s pain around her when she’s already too aware of her own pain. She should have just told Liam that maybe all she needed was cough syrup, a few nights’ rest, and good food. She should have just fought tooth and nail with her friends to make them stop convincing her to have her checkup because her coughs were not normal anymore, like if she coughed anymore, she would probably throw her lungs out.

She jumped in her seat when the doctor’s secretary called her name, exchanging worried glances with Liam. He smiled tightly, which, she supposed, was meant to be reassuring, before standing up and pulling her up with him. “Do you need me inside or would you rather get in alone?” He asked, his arm settling around her shoulders and pulling her close to him. He rubbed Clarisse’s arm absently, goosebumps dancing on her skin at the contact.

She was about to respond when Liam’s phone rang suddenly, breaking the tensed silence between them. He removed his arm over her shoulders, retrieving the phone from his pocket, his lips breaking out in a bright smile when he realized who the caller was. Glimpsing on the name on his phone, she suddenly felt an onslaught of itchiness at the base of her esophagus and tried to clear her throat several times. Well, that pretty much answered his previous question. Clarisse motioned her best friend to take the call. He hesitantly pressed the button before smiling apologetically at her. “I’ll be back in a few.” He said before pressing his phone over his ear, leaving the hallways to the small garden in the middle of the hospital.

Making sure that Liam was out of range, she cleared her throat forcefully a few more times before breaking out into violent coughs. She must have sounded too sick and probably too loud when the doctor’s secretary, a kind middle-aged lady, helped Clarisse by rubbing her back in a soothing manner. It did help a little though, the lady escorting her inside the clinic with a bottle of water in her other hand. She let herself be led by the lady to sit on the black leather sofa when another bout of coughing occurred, tears clinging at the lashes of her eyes.

“Here drink this up, dear. It won’t stop your coughing but it would make you feel better.”

She grabbed the bottle of water from the lady, the cap already unscrewed. Clarisse gave her a tight but grateful smile before downing gulps of water, which eventually helped the constricting feeling in her chest. The lady seemed to know something about her condition when she noticed the sad smile on her face, her stomach sinking with dread. That was when she knew that something is terribly wrong with her.

Paying no heed to the lady’s reaction as much as she could, she leaned back on the sofa and tried to catch her breath. She must have been staring at nothing for quite a while when she realized the kind lady sat next to her and held her hand, the rubbing of her calloused fingers on her knuckles was soothing it almost made her fell asleep.

Clarisse didn’t even realize that she had closed her eyes when the old lady shifted in her seat and reached out for something. She jolted when she felt a light graze on her lips. There was the lady, with a single pale blue petal in between her fingers. She didn’t really need to see the doctor to know what illness she has and it took all that she had not to let out a scream.

She didn’t know what to do and was slightly grateful when the doctor came in, a sympathizing look on his face, which she hated, when he saw the petal on his secretary’s fingers. Clarisse’s eyes followed the lady when she stood up and placed said petal on her hand, offered her a small smile, and went out of the room.

With the gentle thud of the door, she tried her hardest not to scream.

 ---

Clarisse’s tears had dried by the time she got out of the clinic, her eyes unfocused as she sat back down on the bench by the hallway. She was both thankful and disappointed that Liam had yet to return from his conversation with his girlfriend. So much for being a supportive friend like he claimed, she shook her head and chuckled bitterly. Taking in her current situation and trying to forget her friend for the meantime, she clutched the documents given to her by the kind secretary, who gave her her own personal number and told her to reconsider and move on.

It wasn’t that easy, of course, moving on. She had Hanahaki Disease. To think that having an unrequited love would be the cause of someone’s demise is both laughable and saddening. That the extent of someone’s feelings would take form in something so beautiful but deadly. According to medical specialists, the flowers vary from person to person and, if unattended, could grow further inside the lungs that would suffocate the victim.

Clarisse knew that when she saw that pale blue petal and she didn’t have to think who it was. If she hadn’t coughed out that petal, she would still be living in denial that she could hide the feelings she had for him. She laughed without humor, apparently her feelings were too strong for to be kept hidden.

For the first time since she went out of the clinic, Clarisse looked at the documents in front of her, smoothing out the creases she made at the sides of the papers. It was a list of the best cardiothoracic surgeons in the country, complete with their schedules and nondisclosure fees, which is of course, apart from the surgeon’s fee. She wondered if all these expenses were worth it, removing the budding wisteria flowers inside her, when she was going to be poisoned by the damned flowers anyway. The doctor expressed the urgency for the surgery due to the toxicity of the flowers and to take the surgery before the flower blooms further. She’s going to die either way. She’d rather die with dignity than live, unsure of her feelings and everything.

The doctor informed her that once she agrees to the operation, the whole budding plant would be removed from her lungs, of course. However, she would be emotionally numb for the rest of her life, considering she survive the operation and the possibility of being disabled due to the side effect of the toxin of the flower seeds.

It’s only a matter of time before she dies either of suffocation or poison. Clarisse shook her head. She knew it might be clichéd to say but if loving him was the reason she would die then she would accept it. She thought it would also be practical not to do the surgery. Whatever she does, she won’t be normal after this. She’ll never be normal again. She would rather die than feel numb the rest of her life.

With a deep breath and firm resolve, she tore the papers into pieces and dumped it in the garbage can, just like how he would with her feelings. She didn’t want to dwell of the repercussions of her decision at the moment. She had plenty of time to do that at home. Staring at the pale blue petal, Clarisse thought twice whether she should throw her very first petal or not. She chuckled before pulling out her wallet and neatly tucked in the delicate petal in one of the leather’s pockets.

She was startled out of her thoughts when she heard her name echoing the hallways. She looked back and saw Liam running towards her with a concerned look but a small smile on his face. Clarisse sighed and forced a grin on her face.

Time to act like you’re not hurting, Clarisse. You’re already an expert so keep it up.

--

After having lunch and a few probing regarding her health with Liam, Clarisse went home to her current roommate-slash-bff, Dessa, who looked like she was having troubles trying to paint her toenails. The latter looked up when the door closed and brightened when she realized it was her.

“Hey! You’re back! How was your date with lover boy?” she teased while blowing on her nails, trying to make it dry faster. Dessa continued to tease her because of her relationship with Liam, but would always tell her that it’s not what she thinks and that he has a girlfriend. It wouldn’t stop the girl from teasing them together, though.

Usually Clarisse was prepared with a comeback whenever Dessa teases her but this time she was too tired to think of anything. She sat on the sofa, the facade she’s been showing Liam drops as she hunched over herself, her eyes started tearing up with the revelation that she would die soon and together with her feelings for him. She couldn’t control the onslaught of emotions and the sobs that racked through her, alerting Dessa with the distressed sound she made.

In her haste, Dessa dropped the nail polish she was holding earlier and spilled red on their white carpet. “Oh my God, Clarisse, are you alright? What happened?”

“I have Hanahaki Disease, Dessa,” she sobbed, her tears unrelenting. She could feel her best friend tense up, before hugging her tightly. Clarisse didn’t even have to say anything. Dessa knew who it was and she knew how serious his relationship is with his girlfriend. There’s nothing else to do but to accept what’s happening, and if Clarisse didn’t want the surgery then she wouldn’t push her. All Dessa could do was to support her best friend’s decision and be there for her whatever happens.

“Everything’s going to be okay, babe. Everything will be okay.”

They both know how empty those words were.

 -

 It got worse especially whenever she sees Liam. But it was too much and more painful to see Liam with his girlfriend.

It was plain to see that he was utterly and devotedly hers. Clarisse knew that she’s good for him and it was taking everything not to hate her but she does. So she did what she was good at, hiding and staying the fuck away from them. It’s already bad that her feelings for Liam had somehow mutated to something life-threatening inside her, but to see them in front of her doing couple things? To hear the affection he had for her whenever he mentions her name? She tried her best not to erupt into petal-induced coughs.

Clarisse thought that maybe she could buy more time if she would be able to move on from him. To nip the bud when it’s barely starting but it was futile. Because the moment she sees him, however brief, any form of ill feelings towards him melted into something much warmer and lighter. And then morphed into something unimaginably painful. She knew she was a goner. She was constantly thinking about him to the point that she was saturated with her utter devotion for him.

So the next time she visited the doctor, she was no longer surprised that the wisteria was blooming beautifully at a rapid pace, the film from the x-ray machine showing how it has mutated into something so stunning that it showed the majestic growth of the flowers even in black and white.

The same lady who helped her the first time looked at her with sympathy, probably witnessing the same thing happen to a lot of the other patients who came to that clinic. The doctor told Clarisse that she was beyond help, that she could no longer opt for surgery, since the flower was already too large in her system, that even if they cut it down, it would still grow and kill her, just like it would this time. That everything they do at this point will be a waste of time and money.

Clarisse no longer cried. She had accepted the reality that she had lost someone that she couldn’t even have. The pain of lost love, the worst pain that any world could offer.

She gave a polite bow to both of them, thanking them for their advice and help before shutting the door quietly behind her.

-

By now everyone, even Liam, knew that she had Hanahaki Disease. Who wouldn’t when she was busy coughing up bright purple petals. She lost weight because she couldn’t even eat without bursting into violent coughs, petals littering her person and the space she’s occupying. During those times, Liam would look at her with this sad look in his eyes and try to convince her to consider surgery, that whoever it was not worth the life she’s throwing away.

And Clarisse would smile because yes, you are worth it but she wouldn’t voice it out loud. She would let him talk with that concerned tone coloring his tone and wouldn’t bother replying. She looked at him like she wouldn’t be able to do that for a long time. Maybe she wouldn’t. She probably wouldn’t.

When Liam noticed her silence, he smiled sadly and held her hand tightly. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“But you already did.” Clarisse thought, and her chest didn’t throb painfully as it did before.

-

Her last day at the university ended in a teary affair. Her professors and close friends hugging her frail form as they said their goodbyes and as much as Clarisse wanted to hug back, she had no more strength left in her, so she drank in all of their frames and stored it in her memories because she knew that this would be the last time that they would see her.

Dessa was helping her pack her stuff in the shared apartment and they would talk about everything and anything. But when they have retreated to their own rooms, she would hear her best friend’s muffled sobs, trying her best not to let her hear because she knew it would make her cry, too.

The wisteria plant must have been draining her of her tears, which she was grateful for, because she couldn’t even shed a tear now. Clarisse carefully stood up from her bed and went in Dessa’s room as quietly as she could, climbing into her bed. Her best friend rolled to her side and hugged her tightly, sobbing onto her chest.

-

 The night before she travels home, Clarisse was sleeping over at Liam’s apartment. They pretend that she was just going home for vacation. That in a few days she’ll be back with treats from her mother and a few trinkets from her sisters. That she would be able to text him when she feels bored or when she finds something interesting.

“I’ll miss you.” Liam whispered when they lied down on the fort he laid out in the living room, few stray tears making its way on his cheeks.

Clarisse reached out the best she could, her thin fingers wiping the tears away. “I’ll miss you, too.” She could feel a rustle in her chest and she knows. She knows that her time is up and it’s only a matter of hours before she was gone but she didn’t want to go and leave him like this.

She was surprised when Liam lifted his hand and wiped her tears too, because she didn’t know that she was still capable of crying. She raised her hand and rested on his. Clarisse wanted to kiss the frown on his face but she knew she couldn’t, so she opted for a hug. He was hers, she reminded herself as she drifted into dreamland.

They ended up staying that way, his arms around her just like she hoped for before. And maybe, her wishes would come true tomorrow, that when she wakes up, she might be okay. Things might return back to normal. That he might recognize her feelings and would love her just as she loves him.

Clarisse knew that wasn’t the case. Her eyes opened wide when she felt the petals were rising and she could already feel them clogging her throat. She refused to scream her pain and with every strength that was left in her, she pushed Liam away, sparing him the pain of seeing her dead the moment he opens his eyes.

With a final cry, Clarisse was gone.

-

When Liam woke up, he thought that somehow, everything’s going to be fine. Clarisse will get better, the petals will miraculously be removed from her system, and she would be able to move on. He would move heaven and earth just to see her happy.

He sat up, confused that he was almost at the edge of the blanket, remembering that he was hugging Clarisse before they went to sleep. Liam had to fix something for breakfast before she leaves and move back to her parents’ house to heal and recover.

 Liam couldn’t help the anguished cry he let out the moment he saw Clarisse’s peaceful form, cold and lifeless, radiant purple wisteria petals between her teeth.

[elitexlumiere]

The Art of Missing Her

by Aev Venallen It had been seven days. Seven days without her quiet companionship. Seven days without the smell of her vanilla shampoo before he showers. Seven days without the aimless changing of channels whenever he watches tv. Seven days without the sight of the damp towel in the kitchen, without the steaming mug of coffee beside a cup of Earl Grey waiting for him. It had only been seven days but it felt like forever. His boss, sympathizing with his current situation, gave him a month of leave. He appreciated it but really, what would a month being alone would do? He'd rather overwork himself than stay here by himself. With the memories haunting him. Deciding he should at least be productive that day, he ventured out of his room and went to the kitchen to get the brewer started. Noticing the rather thick envelope on the doorway which he had been ignoring for the past four days, he walked and retrieved it. Ah, the result of her autopsy. Letting out a huge sigh, he placed it on top of the dinner table. He needed enough coffee for this. After a few minutes, he sat down, gulping down the bitterness which perfectly describes his feelings at the moment. He didn't bother opening the envelope properly just tearing one side off. She wasn't here to reprimand him anyway. The contents of the envelope didn't surprise him anymore. It wasn't suicide like what the others said. He knew. She was a strong person despite everything that happened to her. That was what he liked about her. He let out a bitter laugh. She didn't take her own life. She drowned. She died fighting. She probably found out then and there that it wasn't safe. She probably wanted to go back to him and won't tell him about it because she knew it would make him mad. She was supposed to come back, like what she said in her note but now she can't. She couldn't. He put the contents back inside the envelope and stood up, walking towards the stove. He turned the stove on and held the envelope directly to the fire. He watched as the flames licked the envelope, stubbornly not letting it go until it hurt him. He only stared. He suddenly felt tired. He went back to the guest room and laid down on the bed. Ever since she was gone, he'd never venture to their room. He knew he wouldn't take the onslaught of memories they had in the room. He knew he should at least take baby steps to moving on to a life without her forever. He hesitantly turned his phone on. He was surprised by the amount of messages he received in just seven days. Did his unread messages just hit the three digit mark? Scrolling down and ignoring the usual condolences and I'm sorry for your loss messages, he opened the message from his old college friend with the subject "Watch this and you'll be surprised." And he was. The video was from five years ago. He was with his buddies in college and they were celebrating their last year in a bar. What was surprising was he saw her, with her friends, dancing at the back. It was the same yet different her. She was alive, carefree, vibrant, vibrating with energy. She was dancing with a bunch of her friends, like she didn't have any care in the world. He couldn't keep his eyes off the young her, the one probably devoid of any sufferings. He caressed the screen of his phone, wanting to touch her. If he only had looked back, he would've been a goner like he was with her even if she's gone. He wasn't aware of his tears flowing down his eyes. She mesmerized him. His lips lifted up when her friend leaned towards her and whispered something, making her throw her head back and laugh. He missed her. It was painful without her. Here he was, it had been seven days and he still felt numb, flashes of emptiness whenever he thought of her. Sometimes he thought maybe he had just imagined her but the sight of her ponytails, her precious little pink cup, and those fluffy black and white socks proved him that she was real.

 That the love he felt with her wasn't a fairytale. That once upon a time, she was his as he was hers. Heck, of course it wasn't a fairytale. There was no happy ending for him and her. His fairytale ended when she drew that last breath and sank into darkness. He heard a gasp and a gut-wrenching moan. He wondered who the hell that was, he might be feeling extreme pain to sound like a wounded animal. He realized it was him. The tears didn't stop, he wasn't aware of his surroundings. He wasn't aware he had already skipped breakfast, lunch and dinner. All he could think of was to get rid of the pain. But no matter how many hours he spent crying for his loss, she was still gone. If he only turned at that exact moment five years ago, she would still be with him. And that was his last thoughts before sleep consumed him. 

He woke up with a start, feeling the incessant vibration. He threw his arm on his forehead, ignoring the annoying thing. Trying to get his eyes to open was a feat because of his crying session yesterday. He felt a liytle better though. The annoying thing vibrated again and he was compelled to look for it. It's probably his phone, he thought, his brows furrowing. Since when did he keep his phone on vibrate anyway? Finally spying the annoying vibrating thing, which was indeed a phone but it wasn't his. It looked familiar so he flipped it open. Wait a minute, this was his old phone. He wondered how it ended up in the guest room. He knew the old thing broke a few years ago. He couldn't remember when he got it fixed. Three messages, and apparently it all came from one person. His best friend. He read the messages and frowned. His best friend knew that he was still grieving and yet he was still inviting him to a party? A celebratory party at that. He was supposed to press the exit when he mispressed the down button, the screen showing a bunch of letters and numbers. Huh. He didn't know how to use this model anymore. Chuckling slightly, he gave the phone a second glance. And then a third glance. 11.22.2010.