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Miss Marigold

Why Do Your Petals Fall?

By E.L. MartinPublished 3 years ago 10 min read
3
Miss Marigold
Photo by Jacinto Diego on Unsplash

Marjorie looked at the gorgeous golden-orange flower. She felt fearful, anxious, dismal, and dull. Her nerves had been numb for some time. She repressed the urge to burst into tears. How could something so bright and beautiful dare to exist? It was as if the flower was poking out of the ground merely to mock her existence. Where had she gone wrong in her life? What had she done that she could not be this meticulously detailed, vibrant flower, but instead the shell of a human being who was once alive? When did she become a mere cog in the machine?

She peered at the flower and unconsciously plucked it. "How dare you." she murmured. She recalled her teenage years. She was a dreamer and the subject of many people's jokes. She never fit in. She yearned for someone, anyone, to truly be her friend. She thought she had friends in middle school, but those same friends turned against her before entering high school. She asked why, and was told, "you're too boring." For the first time, she spent an entire class period crying in the bathroom. It wouldn't be the last time this would happen. She plucked a petal from the large marigold she held in her hand at present.

Marjorie remembered a teacher found her and sent her to the counselor's office with an excuse slip for that class. She was grateful, but couldn't attest to the counseling session helping. It was full of false hopes and promises. The youthful, glowing counselor couldn't possibly understand, but she didn't fault her for trying. The two couldn't have been more different. She was vibrant, cheery, and always smiling with her gentle eyes. Many of the boys had crushes on her, and the girls envied her beauty. Marjorie couldn't relate to that charisma.

By Giorgio Trovato on Unsplash

One suggestion the counselor recommended struck a chord with Margie; find a hobby. Do something you enjoy as a coping skill. At lunch, Marjorie ate quickly and alone. She plucked another petal from the marigold flower she currently possessed. Margie ran to the library, seeking comfort in the one past time that could take her away from this place: books.

Books may have been the reason for her near-sightedness, but that didn't matter to Margie. The optician excitedly showed her a pair of glasses she noticed Margie eyeballing.

"I've been waiting for just the right person to try these on, and your face shape is perfect for them."

Margie glowed as she placed the glasses on her face. The frames highlighted her best features, and gave her a sense of confidence.

"Is it really okay if I get these? They're a bit more expensive than the others." Margie asked her parents.

"I think we can manage." her mother said with a smile and a wink.

Her father turned to her with a wide grin. "Those are the ones you like. It looks like they were waiting for you here all this time. Get them."

By Alimarel on Unsplash

Present-day Margie stared at the Marigold she held in her hands, and smiled before continuing her flashback. Her parents had always tried their best.

When she returned to school, her former "friends" quickly noted her change in appearance. Their insults and rumors became Margie's new dilemma. She regretted her decision to get glasses. Being noticed was, perhaps, worse than being lonely. She tore another petal from the flower she held.

Her teachers noticed her mood changes, and sent her to the counselor's office once more. One of her oppressors caught her exiting. She told the other girls that Marjorie was ratting them out, which was not the case. The bullying became worse. The girls threatened her, hid her things, and "accidentally" spilled things on her in the lunchroom.

By Dose Juice on Unsplash

When a teacher on lunch duty caught one of the girls pouring chocolate milk on Margie's head, she was given detention. The girl blamed Marjorie. Margie's parents noticed the increase in stains, spills, and laundry. They knew Marjorie had never been clumsy, but she wouldn't tell them anything otherwise. Marjorie noticed tears in her mother's eyes as she did the laundry, and when she begged Marjorie to tell her what was going on. Margie pulled another petal from her marigold.

The school staff asked about the girls' behavior, but Marjorie refused to say anything. She continued to bear her undeserved punishment in silence. Meetings between the school staff and her parents occurred, but provided little resolution. Without a statement from Marjorie, little could be done. Despite the concern her parents and teachers had for her, Marjorie thought speaking up would only make things worse.

Even with Margie's silence, the bullying got worse. The climax happened when one girl snatched Margie's glasses from her face. She promptly stomped on and shattered them into pieces.

"Try seeing now." she said.

"Who knew tape would be your new accessory." another girl sneered, and the rest laughed.

Marjorie couldn't tape the demolished frames. The girl had broken them far beyond that point. As glass shards lay strewn out before Marjorie, she finally cried out and openly broke into tears. She was made a public spectacle until the vice principal brought her into the office and called her parents.

By CHUTTERSNAP on Unsplash

Marjorie clutched, twisted, and threw several petals from the marigold she held in her hands, then bawled.

The school expelled the girls, and met with Marjorie's parents. Her parents were outraged that something like this was allowed to happen, and decided that Margie would transfer schools for her own protection.

That incident left a mark on her. The new school was thankfully large, and gave her the anonymity she desired. She found solace in that anonymity and once again in books. She did not love her replacement glasses as much as the ones that were broken. She learned her lesson about picking things she truly loved. Those things could be noticed and crushed too easily. At least the cheaper pair wouldn't cost her parents as much, and wouldn't hurt as badly to lose if she was in a similar situation again.

By CHUTTERSNAP on Unsplash

Her parents worried about her, but she insisted she was alright. She talked with them about her characters, fantasy worlds, and her classes at school. She had become boring indeed. Those girls were right after all. She wanted to go to homecoming or prom, but knew no one would ask the new girl. She dreamed of other milestone events most teenagers enjoyed, but was afraid to be noticed. She finished out her school years uneventful. Instead, she now dropped a petal for each event she wanted to attend, but missed. One petal for each regret.

By Marcus Lewis on Unsplash

Despite transferring schools and going through school unnoticed, she won several scholarships for her merits. Studying was all she knew to do. Her family was proud, and threw a small get together for her graduation. They were worried that she didn't invite any friends. "Family was enough", she told them. She plucked yet another petal from her flower.

She commuted to college, and only went to the events that were required of her for classes. Commuting made the lack of social interaction more excusable she found, and she could remain focused on her studies. At times, she watched and listened to groups of students laughing. They seemed close-knit and appeared to be having fun. She would be lying if she said she didn't envy them. She pulled another petal from her marigold.

She made it through college on her merits. During her internships, she was described as "quiet and hardworking." Some tried to encourage her to socialize, including her advisors. She always stated she was too busy with studies. It was a lie. Marjorie peeled off more petals.

When she entered the work-force, she versed the formalities of typical introductions. She knew they would forget about her unless she was able to provide assistance for their work or take on their tasks. That happened frequently. Margie was called "nice", but didn't think that was a compliment. She felt used. She ripped another petal from the marigold she held. By now, the flower was nearly bare.

She was still crying when she felt a hand on her shoulder from behind. She panicked internally, but realized the hand that rested on her shoulder was gentle. This likely wasn't someone trying to rob or harm her.

"If you are harvesting marigold seeds, this is the one you should choose." a woman's voice declared.

She watched the woman pluck a haggard flower from the bush. It no longer looked like a marigold at all. The woman smiled comfortingly, and handed it to her.

"You'll take off the petals just like you did the bright one there. The ones that are dry and dead work best for harvesting seeds. It's funny that something that appears so lifeless can give birth to many beautiful blooms within a year, isn't it?" the woman chuckled.

Dumbfounded, Marjorie stared at the woman and the dead flower she handed her.

"Here is a pouch for the seeds. I came to harvest them as well, and brought extra."

Marjorie murmured a soft, "Thanks."

"Hey, haven't we met before? I believe we worked together for a short time, didn't we?" the woman inquired.

Marjorie recognized her. She had invited her to an outside work function for her current employer. The other women in the group told her "Don't bother. She has too much work to do, and wouldn't want to go anyway." Marjorie thought it was unusual when this woman whispered, "If you get finished up, feel free to join us" with a smile regardless of their dissent.

Marjorie mustered her strength and courage before responding, "Yeah. Sorry I didn't realize before. I haven't seen you in a while."

"Hah, no worries. I didn't last long in that type of atmosphere. I'm working on my own project instead." she said with a smile, "My name is Eve, by the way. I don't think we ever had the chance to properly introduce ourselves."

Marjorie looked at the extended hand before her. "Margie, short for Marjorie," she said and grasped it.

"Do you come here often?" Eve asked.

"I only walk through here on my way home from work. I don't usually stop." she replied.

"That's a shame. This park is beautiful. Let's finish gathering our seeds, and I'll take you around and show you."

A few months later, Marjorie began working for Eve's after school start-up program for youth. It had been doing better than expected, and the kids loved it. Maybe it was Margie's past experience that helped her connect with the young students, but somehow Margie felt more at home for the first time since middle school.

By the next year, Margie was getting her first roommate. After moving in to their new apartment, Eve greeted her with a smile and kiss on the cheek. A bounty of golden flowers flourished and overflowed from the planter box Marjorie brought in last. Eve recognized it immediately, and insisted it adorn their balcony patio. Afterward, they celebrated with a glass of their favorite champagne.

By Anthony DELANOIX on Unsplash

"Marjorie, you've really blossomed over the past year. I'm so glad I've gotten to know you." Eve said and raised her glass for a toast.

Marjorie had bloomed. She began to understand what it was like to put her faith and trust in someone who was actually trustworthy. She learned the true definition of a friend. That friendship improved her outlook on life and perspective. The previous trauma she bore had now become her asset in working with others in similar circumstances. One person made the difference, and now she could be one more person to those who needed one. A smile lit her face. She pulled a flower from the planter, and placed it behind her ear.

Marjorie clinked her glass and jested sheepishly, "Just call me Miss Marigold!"

By Hans Vivek on Unsplash

friendship
3

About the Creator

E.L. Martin

Powered by Nature, Humanity, Humor, Food, Lifestyle, Fiction, and Culture; Oh, and a questionable amount of coffee.

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