I stumbled into the bathroom. I needed to get away. I was so panicky I tripped over a marble and smacked my head on the sink.

I woke up in a pavilion covered in vines and peeling white paint. Aloe plants in flower pots covered every surface. I first tried to figure out why and how I was a human trafficking victim and why did they pick such a lovely spot to put me. Then I remembered I hit my head so I figured I was hallucinating. But… there was something familiar about this spot.

And then it hit me. Literally. She pelted a rock at me to get my attention.

So I looked

And there she was.

My imaginary friend, not so imaginary now. She appeared as she ever did, with smudges of dirt and grass stains on her overalls. She was wearing her favourite shirt, the one with the bees on it. She was braiding grass like she showed me how.

But… she was still a child. How did this work? She used to grow with me, every growth spurt, every dip and curve in height and weight. She looks like she did the day I left. Still taking care of her aloe plants. She didn’t always grow them though. What did she used to grow? My memories of childhood are fading from years of suppression.

“Daisies.” It was a shock to hear her. She didn’t like talking. It was comforting to me, to avoid the chatter and whispers and screams of outside.

“I grew daisies. You loved them. But then he ripped them from the ground. I wanted to replant them, but the aloes came. I didn’t have the heart to replace them.” Her voice was a rough whisper from disuse. Something was wrong with that thought though.

“Who is he? No one knows about this place but us remember? No one comes here. You replaced them yourself.”

“No” she looked up from the grass she was plaiting. “No one comes here. But he did it anyway. He knew.”

“But who is he?” I pressed. It was confusing and life was too confusing already.

“You do not want to blame him.” She looked at me incredulously, “and after all he has done?” With a start, I realised who this mystery man was. But it was impossible.

“No.” it was simple. I was over-reacting. I always do. He didn’t mean to hurt me and even if he did it was so stupid and small it would be ridiculous to blame him for my problems.

She could see me thinking. I know she could. How else could she so uncannily know what I wanted to do, what I liked and disliked and feared. No one else knew, and that is how it would stay. I expected her to rage at the thoughts, as she did long ago. But she surprised me.

She walked purposely to me and hugged me.

And suddenly I was a little kid again, crying my eyes out because some kid called me creepy. Because I was never good enough. Because I was just so exhausted of this particular plane of existence. But even then I knew that there were only two cures, and I was scared of them both.

And gosh darn it, I really needed that hug. Tears were flowing freely, from both sides. How long was it since I was hugged? Since I let someone hug me? Not that there was anyone left to care. I couldn’t trust anyone else.

“Yes, you can. You keep lying to yourself about how you have go it alone, but that is what they want. To break you. And right now, by shutting out anyone who does or could love you, you are driving yourself into that fate.” She was mad now. I had never seen her that mad. She was only a kid but I was scared right then and there.

“Why do you never see that? Why do you never listen? I have told you over and over again. Don’t do this.” Her anger seeps away, leaving only grief.

“Please don’t do this to yourself. If not for you, for me. If your fond memories are not enough, think of the ones yet to create. You are not alone. You are being a twat and you need to stop deluding yourself that you aren’t good enough.”

Tears spilled down her face, slowly at first, building up steam, more and more rushing down until they created such a torrential flood that they swept away the aloe plants, the grass braids, and me along with it. Washed away, back, back, to that accursed bathroom.

I looked at myself in the mirror and heard her words echoing, louder and louder, planting seeds of rebellion in the back of my mind.

I could hear him raging, words slurring from the drink. The words phased in and out, fluctuating, making me doubt if they ever were there. Each one grated against my conciousness, urging me to run, to hide, to curl into myself so far no one could find me. Usually I would let myself, but her words wrapped around me, hardening my resolve and my spine.

I would do it.

No more of any of it.

I packed my bags and left. Sometimes you need to stay and work harder.

And sometimes it’s best to value yourself over someone who never valued you anyway.