16. That's how old I was. I was never a girl who stood out. I was never a girl who wanted the attention of standing out. Heck I doubt if I even had any friends back then.
The name's Cheyanne Hirisawa, for what it's worth.
I was the dictionary definition of 'normal'. I got all my homework done on time, got to my job on time. I was a very punctual person. The one thing that wasn't normal about me was my intellect. I was a very smart girl indeed, top of every class and worked hard to get there.
Let me take you back to as far as I can remember, it'll help if I get this tragic tale off my chest.
I enjoyed my job, I actually worked two jobs. My favorite was being a florist. My boss, Christa, told me I had always had a knack for arranging flowers. However, I only saw it as fiddling with different shapes, colours and heights until they looked pretty.
As I was stroking the petals of a red Camellia with my nimble index finger, I heard the door to the shop open causing the door chimes to sing. I immediately shot up from my chair and quickly straightened out my long black hair while un-creasing my light purple, knee length dress. As soon as I deemed myself fit enough to serve, I looked up to be met with a well built man in his mid 40's. I stared into his brown eyes softly while speaking "How may I help you, sir?"
He placed his palm on the marble counter top and stared back into my dark blue eyes, no emotion on his manly face, "Yes, hello. I'd like some flowers," He paused and sighed, "you see, me the kids are visiting my wife's grave to pay our respects." He looked down, I could see the tears prick the corner of his eyes and I easily sympathized with him.
"Of course, of course sir. Do you have any idea what flowers you would like?" My voice softened as did my stare, this man was obviously very attached to his wife. As soon as he was about to open his mouth to reply, the door opened once again, causing both of us to look in that direction.
"Hey dad! I thought we were visiting mom's grave?" A tall ginger boy exclaimed annoyed, followed by, who I assumed to be, his two younger sisters. One with black hair and a beady stare, and the other with an innocent aura.
I couldn't help but feel offended for the poor father, the kids were being so insensitive towards their mother's death. I glared slightly and continued with the father. "I can see this is a rather touchy subject, sir." I put slight emphasis on the word 'touchy', catching the boy's attention,"May I suggest that I pick out the flowers and deliver them to your door? Free of charge of course," I got a pen out of my apron pocket and handed him a piece of paper. I honestly just wanted the insensitive fool out of the shop, I never liked people who tread over people's hearts.
"Oh no,no no no. I couldn't put you through all that trouble for nothing. Please acce-"
"Sir. I insist you write down your address," I sharply cut him off.
As the man continued to argue against the idea, the ginger haired boy barged past him and snatched the pad and pen off of me. "Jesus dad, accept her charity." He always seemed to be annoyed, I noted.
I put my pen back into my apron and proceeded to turn around. I was immediately dragged back into a bear hug and tensed. "THANK YOU SO MUCH MISS YOU DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH THIS MEANS TO US!"
"Him." A female voice corrected.
"I-It's fine, please. Just let go," I begged.
I have high hopes for this story, I've got a good idea of what I want to happen in my head. It's pretty fun to write out.