Sunflower's Daughter/Prologue

This is the Prologue of Sunflower's Daughter, released October 18th, 2013.

Prologue
''I can’t really say when she started calling me… that. ‘Sunflower’s Daughter.’''

''I’ve been compared to a few names already. Like… Charter, but I don’t know where that came from. Probably when my mom sunk too much into that Black Widow… but really, the smoke was so thick even my memory got affected by it.'' '' Then there’s… Mia. As in Mia Farrow. The… young her. People kept comparing me to her when one of my cousins brought it up. It stuck, but it was more of a trend… didn’t last too long. She was a beautiful lady though, and I often felt… ‘unworthy’ of that nickname.'' '' Another one was… ah, I forget. So I guess we have to come down to Sunflower’s Daughter.''

''It started when I was about six. My mom has just moved out of Leskovac, into this new world called the United States… and she was all alone. Raised me from the very beginning. I’d hear it then and there. She had just started to learn English.''

''It just stuck until I grew up to understand it enough. ‘Sunflower’s Daughter, Sunflower’s Daughter’… some days she just said the name, other times she explained what it meant. I’m warning you now it’s a lot of corniness, but for the sake of knowing, here it goes.''

''This was during the time she’d just relapsed on some prescription drugs… that’s another story in itself but I don’t feel like getting into it. Anyway, I was about eighteen, and she just went off on me when we were watching TV.''  “Nina, you wanna know why I’ve offered you to the Sunflower?” she’d start. '' “Because you’re not from this world. That the people of the Sunflower took you in. Nurtured you.” Now I was going to ask if she was still high, but… she sounded so serious. Different, even. And I just wanted to let her talk. Because she was about to leave for a while again.''

''“It’s all in your appearance. The color of your hair, as yellow as the flower’s petals… the brightness of your smile, as bright as the sun’s rays. The freckles on your cheek, sprinkles of pollen. Your voice, like the sun’s kiss…”''

''I… didn’t know what to say. I never heard her that poetic before. So I assumed she was… ‘out of her mind.’ I asked her, if she really was. If she’s… back on the reefer, or something.''

''She said I ruined the moment. That I really was this girl she was talking about.''

''She wanted me to be nothing but special. And so here I am. Nina Mladenović, aged 21.''

''I inherited her knack for experimental drugs, but unlike her, I never took it a step too far. I only ever had five friends in my life, and the only other people I know are my cousins. I talk to my guitar, Meredith, sometimes, because I have the ability to see her as a person. I’ve had one boyfriend, and three girlfriends in the past three years. I smoked pot for about two straight years, until I started attending college, but that only lasted for half a year. I’m not a Bohemian. I’m trying to get back into school, major in Botany. So no, don’t ever call me that.''  But all of that changed in the course of a day. '' You can say it’s been a crazy month. I’ve seen more than I ever will in my past life, from before the Time, when things were normal. I’m getting myself used to saying that because… I’m sure that’ll be what it’s going to get called as it gets recorded in history. That, or… ‘the time when us humans fucked up.’ Something snappy, catchy.''

''I can’t say Judgement Day didn’t take me by surprise. I’ve listened to a few underground broadcasts, conspiracy theories, what was really happening East side… but I never imagined it to be this scale. That, and my surroundings were too damn normal for me to start worrying. I didn’t want to be paranoid, like mom, and I was just getting into college…''

''But I was ready for it. Somewhat ready for it. I knew I could do anything. Like, anarchy-anything. But I never thought I’d see so much death, care so much.''

''Those… walkers. Zombies. I avoid them as much as I can. Like… people, only this time they’re trying to kill me. It’s something I never got over, don’t ever know when. Maybe if that day had gone differently…'' ''Seriously though, it’s nice talking to you, person in my head. Whoever you are. If you’re listening. If I’m somehow spreading my brain waves and creating voices in someone else’s head, miles away from where I stand...''

It’s just good to have someone listening, reading my thoughts for once.