Sunflower's Daughter/Chapter 1

Previous - Prologue

Chapter 1 - 7:03 AM
7:03 AM.

Nina finally decides to open her eyes and get up from bed, after having heard that obnoxious alarm of her’s for the second time. She looks up at the cream-colored ceiling above her, all pale from its age. The blinds were closed, yet she can still see its color. It was distinct.

She lets the alarm of the digital clock beside her buzz for a few more seconds until she finally swings her hand over to it and taps the top. She inhales deeply and rubs her whole face with both her hands, until finally deciding to get up.

She wore a top and her gray polka-dot pajamas that night. She goes over to her closet mirror and takes a look at herself. Her eyes scanned up and down. Nothing different. She turns to look over at the bedside table where her lamp stood. Her hair band was there. She walks over to pick it up and goes back to the mirror.

She ties her semi-short, pale blonde hair into a complicated mix-up of knots and tangles, hair band in hand. No need for a tie. Afterwards, she looks at her hair band, the one she’ll be wearing for today. It was worn out, but she can still see the individual flowers on it. Beautiful.

She seals up her do by tying the band just above her forehead. She turns her head left and right, looking at herself.

She looks at both her hands, backward and forward. To her right hand, the vine maze… its darkness adding to the already poor lighting. She clenches her right hand on and off, and puts it down.

Time to start today. This particular, special day… 7:12 AM.

“Mom?”

Nina’s call echoes throughout the seemingly empty hall, onwards to the living room. “Mom?” she tries, for the second time, and nothing responds.

She walks barefoot past the opened door of her mom’s room, toward the living room. She smells… smoke. Particular smoke.

Nina couldn’t decide if it was bad or good. Good, that her mom saved some hasheesh for her, and bad, that she might never stop smoking it again. And right there, she sees it. On the wooden table, next to the potted plant that’s pale in comparison with the thing in the ziplock bag, and all the other colorful knick knacks her mom liked to call “spiritual jewelry”.

There was already a half-burnt joint not enough for smoking on the ceramic ashtray, and a half-full ziplock just right next to it. Nina approaches it with interest and takes the bag for closer inspection.

It was raw, ready for wrapping. Just need to get some paper…

Nina’s face crumples as she thinks about it. Should she touch this? She stretches a bit to prevent her thoughts from getting into overdrive. Does she really need to smoke this?... It’s been so damn long.

Nina throws the bag up and down in her hand while she walks over to the kitchen to look for the wraps. She goes over to the counter top and swings every shelf she can open before hesitating on the third one. She can’t smoke this now. Her throat’ll get all ache-y again from all the choking she’s going to have to do.

She throws the bag on the counter top, and looks at it, deeply for a second…

No. She can’t come back to it now. She looks at the ziplock for a few more seconds and walks away, letting out a few repulsed cries. Maybe not now, maybe later… Upon approaching the coffee table, she notices a piece of folded note paper. Must’ve passed by her when she took the bag…

She takes the paper and unravels it, then crashes on the couch by jumping on it.

It was her mom’s obviously. Her and her terrible handwriting.

“Dearest Spiritual Extension Nina…”

Nina furrows her eyebrows upon reading it.

''“I’ve gone and left. You are aware of what today is;we both listend to it on the radio, the coming of the Reap,The deckay of all that is living---”''

It was nearly appalling to her seeing all of the grammatical errors she was making. That’s what she tried to correct with herself; be a concise writer. Even if it meant putting a little extra effort on it.

''“You know what will guide you you are my daughter. A seed from a spiritual mind, an extension, a daughter of the Sunflower---please take care of yourself, you now i do not need to say goodbye.”''

“At least a kiss to the forehead will do…” Nina murmurs. She feels her nose sting briefly. “Or an actual goodbye or—or staying—”

''“i left you with the herb of our broders and sisters please use it wisely. Be there with me mind and spirit. i am going to meet Herv and he will take me to Monk Infermarian Shaha and we will commence our spiritual journey to another plane---and it will help me fight the coming evils that is death. I adore you, my spiritual extension. Live on this new world and pleas dont make my mistakes.”''

And that was it. No parting words. Nina pauses looking at it, and scoffs. What a great mom.

She scans the letter a few more times and turns it around. There was… a note. A small paragraph she must’ve missed.

The letters were a little bit clearer, but their size made it hard to make out. She squints at it, and reads…

''“Nina—go to Brodin’s Shooting Range and hand them the receit. Receit is on the fridge”''

Brodin’s… the name rings a bell in Nina’s ears. Didn’t she… plan doing some kind of sabotage inside that store, but backed out after being afraid of getting shot? It was a gun store…

She can’t say she loves guns, but she’s decided vigilante action is worthless. Guns are terrible instruments, after seeing all those news casts… she doesn’t necessarily condone guns.

But she’ll have to see it for herself. Her mom made a note of picking it up… and she hates guns just as much as her. Maybe it was something special.

She throws the note aside, stands up, and walks over to the fridge. On the way, she thought about it… all those police reports down south on amateur radio streams. Pirate radio stations talking about… hostiles... 7:56 AM.

Nina took a bit of timing doing a bit of everything. Picking out an outfit, brushing her teeth, her hair… picking out good shoes. She’s decided on this today. A lavender tie-dye top, sleeveless, a little bit bigger than her athletic top underneath. Running pants that are cut off from the shins, and her tennis shoes. New ones, bought from Ross about a month ago. Breaking them in today.

Of course, she couldn’t forget about her jewelry. Two leather armlets, numerous different-colored bracelets on top. And her five different necklaces, nearly covering her neck. She eye-lines her brows at least two times and puts a thin coat of gloss on her lips, and she was ready to go. Not even any fragrance. Just the good ol’ smell of Nina, and the smell of… her house.

She pockets her cell phone and wallet, grabs the one and only car keys from the rack, and heads outside. The receipt—with the P—is all folded up, next to her wallet. She’s ready to go.

Upon going outside, she feels the sweet, gentle breeze blow right through her. “Hello to you too, Nature,” she mutters. The sky was bright, and the weather was just right. Today was perfect… too perfect for any crazy things happening.

She skips over the steps, out of her bliss, and walks over to the car parked at the curb in front of her front porch. A decades-old station wagon, pale-green. Instagram-worthy. But… she doesn’t use that stupid app. Her flip phone can’t run it.

Nina inserts the keys onto the door and opens it. She sits on the driver’s seat, remembers that she does indeed have a license, and closes the door. She grips the steering wheel with both her hands for a few seconds and takes a whiff of the fresh, car smell.

Aside for the hint of hasheesh, it smelled like pine trees and Febreze. All of that mixing into the unique, warm smell that is Nina’s car. And it was glorious. 8:09 AM.

It didn’t take long to reach the gun store, since her neighborhood isn’t that far from the shopping areas of town. Parking did take most of the time, though.

Nina takes the receipt out of her pocket as she enters. It was pretty empty for the most part, aside for two others walking around, and the lone cashier with the thick moustache, trucker hat, and aviators. He stares at Nina for a good amount of time, as if he was wondering what a girl like her was doing there.

Nina hesitantly approaches the counter, her eyes trailing off at the numerous rifles, shotguns, rifles again… all rowed up behind him, creating nothing but a shiny black.

The man stares at her for a little bit longer. “Hmmm…”

Nina did not appreciate the judging eyes of this man; she just knows it… right behind those aviators.

He folds his arms proudly. “What’dya want?” he asks, in a hidden condescending tone.

Nina’s eyebrows lower a little bit more. He already hates this guy. “I have a… receipt. With note…” She awkwardly presents the folded piece of paper toward him, and the mane takes it.

He looks at it for a few seconds. “Hmmm… yeah, yeah this makes sense. So was that your mom that came in earlier today?”

Nina’s expression changes to that of curiousness. “My… mom?”

“Yeah. Guess that was yer mom. Paid for it and everything.” The man scoffs, and turns to his side to vanish for a second.

“Here.” He comes back with a small, cardboard box in his hand, setting it onto the counter and pushing it toward Nina.

“Can’t say you’re the first to get a gun in this particular day…”

Nina, thirsting for answers, opens the box hesitantly. She unravels the white, paper wrappings and sees its content, ever so clearly.

“Your mom or… whoever she was requested this two weeks ago. Had one made for herself, too.”

Nina takes it. The contents of the box. She feels its heaviness on her right hand, struggling a bit to even keep it steady…

“Nineteen-eleven Colt. First World War. And…” The man puts his glasses up to reveal his eyes, squinting at the firearm in Nina’s hand. “… custom paint job. Now more… girly.” He smirks.

It had a half-orange-half-magenta handle. The top was slightly bronzed… just a hint. She just kept looking at it weirdly.

“Your mom paid a good amount o’ money for that. Go ahead. Keep it.”

Nina transfers her weird look over to the man.

“No license needed, if that’s what you’re thinking. Not today, of course. It’s Judgement Day!” His smirk brightens to a grin.

Nina thinks about it for a second. She looks around her, to see where she can stuff it. She nearly forgets about the shoulder bag she’s been carrying all this time.

“Oh, and… before you forget.” The man walks over to the far right side of the counter and bends down. He goes back to Nina with a handful of boxes and two magazines. “Complimentary. You want a bag for it?”

Free bullets. That’s all Nina thinks about. Not the gun in her purse. Just the… free bullets. For today. No need to pay.

“Y-yes please,” she replies.

Next - Chapter 1-1