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The grass hadn’t always been greener on the other side. Sometimes you had to water the grass by your own means, or if life itself took apart the weeds, ripping fractions of memories until they had become obsolete. Do you get it now?
I stood staring into the now dull night, it’s increasing darkness clouding my vision. I blinked, before once again feeling the warmth of my dear Mr. Scarecrow—my stiff lover, whom I had entrusted my comfort too— hoping our warmth would serve my selfishness, day or night.
I blinked a good few times before the darkness settled in. Yet, despite all of which I had endured through the dark, a passing gleam of light persisted behind me— An angel greeting it’s new inhabitant a warm welcome, or perhaps a kiss goodnight, with the passing colors of the night painted naval, old navy, and the radiance carefully colored light shades of harsh yellows. It was a Starry Night.
"Ms. Woods?"
The soft, calm voice had completely snapped me out of thought, as I attempted to, or hoped too, pull away from Mr. Scarecrow and face the beauty of this night.
"It's awfully dark here. Are you alright?"
I was turned the opposite way.
"Ms. Dyer… May I ask you to help me find my way back inside?"
My tone crept a bit eerie, but i’m sure she wouldn’t mind. Her calmness and patience as a Doctor is impecable, which i’ve particularly familiarized her with— in a way that stands her above all others.
"Ah-hahah… You’ve turned the opposite way, Ms. Woods. Here."
Ms. Dyer meticulously placed her hand in mine, placing her thumb underneath my index finger while maintaining a strong grip on the rest of my palm. I closed my eyes shut, and felt a wind fly past me, before the darker hues had turned especially bright.
"Open your eyes, please."
She demanded. I noticed a specific mixture of complexity buried underneath her voice, which was a realization I had concluded a day ago— I had arguably picked up that underlying, worrisome tone by now, having seen her similar emotional patterns despite our short time here. I obeyed and opened my eyes, seeing my guardian angel before me.
"Are you alright?"
Despite the awful dissociation I had faced earlier, my smile had remained, the corners of my mouth tilted up permanently. It’s easily one of my charming traits, I can admit.
"I suppose. Thank you for your help, Ms. Dyer."
I purposely left a vague response, seeing a slight twitch of guilt from the Doctor’s face. What has she been through, I wonder?
"Very well then. I’ll retire you to your room."
I tilted my head forward, nodding ever-so-slightly. If the Doctor were to flash such a guilted expression, how had she been able to still present herself as calm and collected? Could it have been a possibility, considering her occupation, that her gruesome past had involved one of her patients? Or is she worried about something else she’s hiding? Despite it all, I wouldn’t like her to keep anything from me—
Emily had stopped mid-walk, her left foot staying rigid.
Yet, I knew I was selfishly keeping things from her as well.
"Please do not stay in contact with Kreacher Pierson. He is a dangerous man."
That man?
The name upheld a sense of intolerance— an unbearable frustration seeping through my heart. That same frustration I had felt many years prior, perhaps for the same reason. It was a few moments before I finally composed myself, and from this moment, It was only Emily who could have seen me like this.
"I'll make sure to do so, Ms. Dyer. Thank you for your patience."
Complimenting her on her positive traits must have soothed her, for her quiet footsteps grew softly, and soon, we were walking side to side once again.
Simply put; a Gardener and a Doctor, two occupations that require immense patience and care for the living.
Even if both must persist to process the death that comes with it.
She walked me to my room, placing her hands behind her back. That look of guilt once again submerged to her heart, a calm attitude settling into her expression.
"Goodnight, Ms. Woods. May you rest well."
I shifted into my room, placing my hands to my front. The smile I upheld from the garden until now was gone. I can imagine a rather intense glare flaring from my eyes— which is why Miss Dyer must have stayed, standing with balance, her eyes fluttering naturally, without lacking consistency. I responded after a few moments of silence, hoping I could read her enough to leave a lasting impression.
"Miss Dyer… Thank you for your time today. I hope to see you tomorrow. At breakfast."
She gave a nod, a slight smile lingering on her face before she turned around and headed to her room, a look back proven unworthy of her time.
I slowly approached my bed, my footsteps silent. I treaded along the side of it’s mattress, resting my head along the comfortable cushions.
…
(I fell asleep.)
…
Unwritten Date
That man had never been any good.
None attributes, none appearance.
Perhaps I had been too naïve.
At least, that was in the first game.
Now, only the flowers of the garden speak to me, and the blue skies cast their light of protection in my daily life.
…Perhaps, I am still naïve.