Iris: The Flower

Iris: The Flower

          A click echoes within my apartment, granting me access to the tiny unit. With a deep sigh, I slide off my work shoes, already feeling the dull ache in my back. After a long night of mixing drinks and flirting with patrons, it was time for bed. I roll my neck, trying to work the crick out. The bedroom light is off, but the door is left wide open. It is early morning, - almost 2 AM - and it wouldn't be surprising if Iris were asleep.
          Nights like this are common for us. Coming home from a late night of bartending, I would have to wordlessly slip into bed next to my girlfriend, who would be curled up in bed, none the wiser. Some days, we wouldn't see each other before Iris left for her job in the morning.
          Slowly, I peek into our bedroom, fully expecting a figure on the left side - Iris's side - of the bed. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I can see that our bed is empty, still neatly made from this morning.
          "Iris...?" I whispered, sure that I was seeing things. After waiting a moment with no answer, I flipped on the lights.
          The bed is, indeed, empty.
          Where could she have gone? Adding some haste to my movements, I round the corner and check the bathroom - nothing.
          "Iris?"
          My voice echoes down the hallway, anxiety crawling in the pit of my chest. I walk into the living room, my sense of urgency rising with each passing moment. There is no sign of Iris in our living room, only the whimsical decor and various houseplants she insists we keep to brighten our space.
          "Iris?" I call out once more, hopeful that I will hear her sweet voice answer. Silence surrounds me as my anticipation slowly fizzles into worry. No response.
          Shoving my way back into our bedroom, I ruffle through my pockets looking for my phone, a million thoughts floating around my head.
          Where was she? Why did she leave without telling me? Was she mad at me?
          Sure, she mentions that I work too much, but she never seems upset about it. I have to pay the bills, and bartending isn't the glamorous job that your favorite sitcom makes it out to be. Iris understands that. Besides, Iris has never walked out of an argument. She always talks me through it, and we would work to find a solution together. That's how we work. She would never just... leave.
          Finding my phone in my back pocket, I pull it out and plop down on our bed. No new messages from her either. Fear now climbs from my chest into the back of my throat. It becomes painful to breathe. I need to call her. Everything will be okay once she answers, and I learn where she is.
          I scroll through my favorite contacts, looking for her photo. My favorite photo of her. She's laying in the grass, beautiful curls haloing her face, eyes squinting because I surprised her with a picture mid-laugh. Her dark hair is a stark contrast to the lush natural green of the grass, making her stand out more than she already did. My finger hovers over the dial button as I look at the photo once more. Before I have the chance to press it, my phone buzzes.
          A new message from Iris!
          Relief washes over me, extinguishing the anxiety I felt in my throat. I run a hand through my hair - a habit I have been prone to since childhood - and instantly open the message.
          Hey, I got you flowers. Meet me at our spot. See you soon, my dear Mallory.
          I examine the message many times, not thoroughly absorbing the contents. It was late at night, but the unease I thought I had cast away returned, spreading its nasty way throughout my body. Something was... off.
          Iris regularly texted in a unique style. Every message she sent, without fail, would be accentuated with an abundance of cute emoticons. Even when irritated or distressed, she would find the perfect emoji to express how she felt.
          She never used proper punctuation when texting.
          "Wait, why would I need to?" She asked when I brought the question to her. "I'm not writing a thesis; I'm just letting you know that I love you!" With that, the conversation was over.
          Over-the-top gestures were not necessarily out of range for Iris's shenanigans. However, she normally was asleep by eleven, at the latest. She believed in beauty rest and refused to sacrifice it unless there was a dire emergency. Being her girlfriend, this rule extended to me as well, which didn't fare in my favor as a bartender.
          Standing up, I call her. This situation was off-putting, to say the least. Iris isn't a cryptic communicator. Regularly, she always told me precisely what she wanted or what was occurring. I needed her to tell me that everything was okay - that she was okay.
          The line rang twice, before being interrupted by Iris's energetic voice.
          "Hey, it's Iris! I'm super sorry I couldn't make it to the phone but leave me a message! I'll get back to you right away! I hope you have a fantabulous day!"
          The beep that followed startled me. I was too dazed by the sound of Iris's voice. We didn't have the chance to see each other before I left for work. I miss her.
          Where could our "spot" be, I pondered, pacing the bedroom. Was she referring to the train station? The place where, over two years ago, she told me "I love you," the first of many times. That couldn't be right; we've only visited there once.
          Perhaps, the pottery studio we went to for our two-year anniversary, just under a month ago. No, that was out of town, at least half an hour away.
          I bite down on my nail, small pricks of pain emerging. I ignore it, shoving it to the back of my mind, as I thought harder. What could she mean? Why didn't she tell me? Nervous thoughts restlessly swam inside my head, painting a picture of everything that could go wrong.
          I shove my face in my hands, hiding from my thoughts as they surrounded me, threatening to take over. I needed to breathe and stay calm. With a sigh, I rub my eyes, thinking of what Iris meant by "our spot." Cradling my chin, I lift my head, catching a glimpse of white above our bed.
          Two press-dried flowers were interlocked, overlapping each other, yet fitting together perfectly, preserved in an antique frame. Two flowers from the first bouquet Iris gifted me. Ironically, the bouquet was composed entirely of iris flowers. Despite Iris's thoughts of the gesture being cheesy, she knew that irises have always been my favorite. She shoved her embarrassment aside to make me happy, assuring that she could withstand any amount of embarrassment if she got to see me smile. I saved two of the flowers, pressing them to protect their beauty forever. On our one-year anniversary, I presented her with the flowers, kept safe behind the frame. Upon realizing the significance of my gift, tears began to form in the corners of her eyes. Before I could even ask if she was okay, she threw her arms around me and thanked me.
          Reminiscing on this memory calmed my growing nerves. Everything would be fine, I told myself. This was just one of Iris's loveable antics, that was all. I would look back on the scenario and realize how romantic it was. This is a part of her act; I decided to play along.
          With the memory of the irises at the front of my mind, everything clicked into place. There was only one logical place that Iris could be hinting at. A local coffee shop that we frequent - visiting at least once a week. The small cafe was the place where we first met, had our first date, and where she gave me the bouquet of irises. It was only a fifteen-minute walk from our apartment.
          Surely, she knew they were closed. We go there often enough to know the hours. She could not expect a warm cup of coffee then, right? But there was no other place that came to mind and held high significance to us than the cafe. I was convinced.
          Despite the strangeness of the situation, Iris was my partner. I would do anything for her. I loved her. I needed to know she was okay.
          I step into the entry way, grabbing my winter coat, preparing to leave for the second time tonight. As I don the heavy coat, I dial Iris's number, attempting to contact her before I leave. Once again, I was met with her voicemail.
          This time, when I heard the beep, I began to speak.
          "Hey, sunshine. It's me. I'm on my way now. You were talking about Brew Awakenings, right? Um, well call me when you get this... Please..." I could hear the unease seep into my voice. Quickly, as to not let her think I was upset, I added, "I love you, bye."
          I hung up the phone with a sigh. Shoving it into my coat pocket, I stepped out of the apartment, locking the door on my way out.

--- ? ? ? ---

          Striding through the winter night, my breath came out in visible tendrils, surrounding my face in the numbing air. The temperature dropped below ten degrees, snow gently falling from the sky. I watch as a thin, fluffy layer of white begins to build around me and shove my clenched fists deeper into my pockets, a desperate attempt to keep warm.
          Numerous questions flooded into my head, one being the center of most of them - why?
          Why did Iris want to meet so late? Why did she want to meet at a location we both knew wouldn't open for another four hours? Why was she all alone on this cold, winter night?
          Was she alone...?
          I shook my head, trying to banish the lingering thoughts out of my head. Various shops streak by. I was quickly approaching the small cafe.
          Not a soul was near the shop. I walk up to the door, ignoring the "Sorry! We're closed!" sign, pulling the handle. Locked, but I expected no less.
          I let out a sigh, breath visible in the frozen night air. It was possible that I misinterpreted what Iris meant by "our spot," but I could not imagine where else she was insinuating I go.
          Scanning the dimly lit street, I see that no one is around. Soft, delicate snowflakes dance in the warm gleam from the streetlamp, almost glowing as they pass through the light.
          Iris adored when it snowed.
          "Come on, Mal! Winter's my all-time favorite season!" She would tell me, struggling to put her heavy coat on, trying to convince me to join her to watch the snow fall outside.
          "Sunshine," I started, stirring the drinks I had made to warm us up after watching the storm build outdoors and listened to the news anchor tell the city to stay inside until it passed, "you say that about every season."
          "Well... yeah!! But I really really mean it about winter! Let's see, there's Christmas! And snow! And- oh! Our anniversary! There's literally so much fun stuff to look forward to! Now, come on! Let's go make snow angels together!"
          I shook my head, the contagious smile that was always present when around Iris snuck onto my face. I grabbed both mugs.
          "Do you know how dirty the streets are in this city?" Turning to her, I extended one arm, offering a warm drink to her. "You would be rolling in garbage, mud, and used needles. Plus, your tea would get cold."
          "Not if we hurry!" She zipped up her coat as she ran past me, grabbing mine as well. "Come on! Let's dance in the snow, my love!"
          I set the mug down, unable to say no to Iris's childlike wonder. Taking the coat from her, I slipped it on.
          "Okay, let's do it."
          A snowflake flutters down. It landed on my nose, pulling me out of the memory and back into the present. I ran a hand through my hair, attempting to get out the snow that had built up, without much success. Stepping closer to the shop's front window, I cup my hands around my eyes to lean in and peer into the cafe.
          No one was inside. Everything looked still and unbothered now that the shop was closed. My eyes wandered around the empty store before settling on a booth near the back of the cafe. Dividing each booth was an assortment of plants, artfully arranged in a container. The booth with rosemary above it was how I knew. It was the booth where Iris and I met for the very first time. A warm sensation of nostalgia flooded over me, a smile forming on my face. That day was an extraordinary day, as I met the most extravagant girl.

--- ? ? ? ---

          Mallory watched shivering people rapidly passing down the street, hurrying as they set off to their next destination, out the window. She sipped at her drink, although it was just a bit too warm, grateful that she was inside. She tried not thinking about the walk home as she flipped her textbook open.
          A new coffee shop had just opened in her neighborhood, and despite the peculiar name - "Brew Awakenings?" Seriously, who comes up with this stuff? - Mallory needed a place to study. Being as she already spent far too much time in her studio apartment and her peers at the library weren't the quietest, she opted for the small cafe to make a dent in the mountain of reading assigned for the week.
          Opening her textbook on advanced physics, she flipped to the chapter her class was assigned to read this week. Once her mind was cleared of any outside distractions, it was time to focus. Soon after she was nose-deep in the chapter explaining rotational mechanics, the table of the booth jumped abruptly. Mallory sprung back, her arm nudging her mug of tea. Unfortunately, this was enough to spill the drink, the pages of her textbook absorbing the liquid slowly staining the pages the same beige color.
          "Wha-! What the-" she began, irritable eyes darting up at the perpetrator behind this mess.
          "Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! I am so SO sorry!" Frantic hands reach across the table, grabbing fistfuls of napkins to soak up the drink. "I-I didn't mean- I just, well, I did mean to come over here. Jeez, I'm so sorry!"
          A girl - around her age, a year younger - was trying to soak up the mess. She continued to mutter dozens of apologies and used dozens of napkins. After she was satisfied with reducing the spill to a minimum, she turned to Mallory.
          Mallory watched as her cascading umber curls followed her movements, bouncing as they did so. Apologetic hazel eyes stared deep into hers. The stranger bit her lower lip, fidgeting with her hands to avoid the awkward air surrounding them.
          "Listen, I-"
          "Don't worry about it," Mallory finally chimed in, a smirk appearing with her newfound confidence. "It's fine, really."
          "Well... I really am sorry about your drink... and your book. I'll buy you a new one! A new drink, I mean. Well, I guess I could buy you another copy of the book too-"
          "There's no need for all of that. Really, this book was so dull. It could stand to be a bit more colorful," she said, shutting the textbook and shoving it to the side.
          "Well," the captivating girl started, taking a seat on the other side of the booth, "can I at least buy you another tea?"
          Mallory smiled, a tinge of pink growing on her face, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
          "Only if you promise to order one for yourself. Why don't you stay here for a bit?"
          The girl's face lit up, and she mimicked the way Mallory tucked her hair behind her ear, curls wrapping around her finger as she does so.
          "I think I can do that. So, what's your name?"
          "I'm Mallory. And you are?"
          "My name is Iris! Like the flower!"

--- ? ? ? ---

          I step back from the glass, smiling as I do so. Since the beginning, Iris had always been my ray of sunshine. I loved her and would do anything for her. Even if it meant standing outside a closed cafe in the middle of a bitter winter night.
          Yet, there was no sign of her anywhere. I was certain this is where she meant when she said "our spot." There was nowhere else it could be. Reaching for my phone in my coat, I stiffened.
          Someone was watching me.
          I turn my head, scanning the street behind me, and see nothing. No one was there.
          Maybe I was just being paranoid...?
          No. I could feel the unmistakable sensation of a pair of eyes following me, observing my every move. I could sense a presence. Someone was there.
          Backing up, I pressed my back firmly against the storefront, assuring no one could creep up behind me. Nobody was in my range of vision.
          "Hello...?" I call out, not sure if I want a response. "Iris...? Is that you? Please come out, sunshine. You're scaring me..."
          Sweat rolls down my face, despite the frigid temperature.
          A beep rang through the still night, coming from my forgotten phone in my pocket. With a yelp, I spring back, hitting my head on the hard exterior of the shop. Cursing, I bring a hand up to rub the growing ache at the back of my head. My chest was heaving as I tried to get more air. I couldn't seem to steady my trembling hands. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I almost dropped it. I catch it before it can hit the sidewalk, shattering it into pieces. The screen's brightness was blinding. I squint, reading the single message waiting for me. Just as I thought, another message from Iris.
          So close. Try looking around the corner, perhaps? It would be a shame for these flowers to wilt in the cold.
          It felt like my heart had stopped. The blood left my face, leaving me feeling woozy. I steady myself against the building as questions flood into my mind.
          Why was Iris texting me? Could she see me? Why wasn't she speaking?
          Was it Iris at all...?
          This scenario was out of character for Iris. The loving, honest girl I call my sunshine. What is going on?
          With my heart thumping in my ear, I could hear the blood run through my veins. Nothing about this felt right. I need to find Iris and go home. That's right. This is the best course of action.
          Gathing myself once more, I will my hands to move again, dialing Iris's number with shaky, uncertain fingers.
          Breathing became a laborious task. My head was spinning. I need answers. Breathing in sync with the line's rings, I attempt to ground myself.
          As my thoughts slowed, I could faintly hear something. A slim alleyway stood between the cafe and its neighboring building. Usually, the only sign of life that one would find there was the shop's employees taking a smoke break and stray cats searching for something halfway edible.
          There's absolutely no way... I must be hearing things. In my state of panic, my head clearly was not in the right place. Yet, I creep closer to the alley, the sound growing.
          When I look into your eyes, eyes, eyes... I know that you're mine, mine, mine... My darling, I love you, you, you...
          That song... Iris loved that song. It would echo in the bathroom as she sang along in the shower. On the weekends, she would begin her days with baking, radio blasting. I would hear her singing from the other room, sure that there would be batter on the walls as she danced to the music. She had even gone as far as declaring it our song.
          It was also... her ringtone.
          My hand moved on its own, slowly retracting the phone from my ear. Now, I could hear it clearly.
          When I look into your eyes, eyes, eyes... I know that you're mine, mine, mine... My darling, I love you, you, you...
          The chorus repeated. It was supposed to make me feel energized and happy, but now, hearing the song couldn't make me feel any further from it. The once cheerful, happy melody - now turned into an eerie, heart stopping tune - confirms it. I was not hearing things that weren't there.
          My feet were frozen in place, rooted to the ground. Fear refused to let me take another step forward.
          But... I need to know. I need to see for myself that Iris is okay. If she was, why wasn't she saying anything...?
          I force myself to move, taking one agonizing step after another. The snow crunched under my feet, and I was grateful another sound was filling the night air with anything other than the uncanny ringtone. My breathing is quick and frantic, contrary to my slow pace to see what was around the corner.
          With one last step, I was parallel with the corner of the cafe, the foreboding alleyway just past it. The sole thing separating me from Iris - or at least, her phone - was an imaginary barrier. I just had to peek around the corner; yet I couldn't force myself to do it.
          The ringtone finally ended, the deafening silence filling the stillness of the night. Snow continued to fall gently around me. What should have been a peaceful moment was ruined by the dread that had overtaken me for the past ten minutes.
          This was a major prank; I was sure of it. Iris would be standing around the corner, a goofy smile plastered on her face. She would throw her arms around me, telling me that she had gotten me through a sea of giggles. I would scold her for scaring me, holding her close, never letting go. But ultimately, I would feel the relieving sensation of safety flood over me. I craved it. I needed it. I needed to feel anything other than the helplessness that sat heavy in the pit of my chest.
          Once I look past the corner into the alleyway, my delusional fantasies would play out before me. Everything would be fine; it had to be fine! I take a deep breath, frigid winter air filling my lungs. I bit down on my tongue, the pain being a reminder that this was not a horrid dream.
          "I... Iris...?" a strained voice that I couldn't recognize as my own choked out. It was tough to push past the breathlessness in my throat, but I peered around the corner anyway.
          My screams drowned out the horrible silence of the winter night. What awaited me was straight from a nightmare.
          Iris was slumped against the brick wall of the alleyway, head hanging low and concealing her face from me. But... there was a grisly divot in Iris's head, like someone had hit her atop the head, bashing her skull in. A groove a little bit bigger than a fist had been crunched into her head. A frozen, dark substance - one that I could only assume to be blood - was matted into her beautiful curls.
          "Iris!" I shriek, scurrying to her side. I slip on the ice, falling to my knees. I crawl towards her with scraped palms, but none of that mattered right now. "Iris, oh my god! Are you okay?! Sunshine, what's wrong? Say something, Iris!"
          I grab one of her hands folded neatly in her lap. The lack of warmth almost made me recoil, but I placed my other hand on her shoulder instead. I began to shake her gently, attempting to avoid hurting her any further.
          "Iris?! Come... come on...! Pl... please wake up!" I gasp out between sobs. Warm tears stream down my face, slowly making the bitter cold of the winter night dissolve away. In disbelief, I shake my head ruthlessly. That wasn't real. It couldn't be... "Iris, wake up! You c... can't leave me...! What am I- What am I supposed to do without you?!"
          I shake her, firmer this time. Her curls sway with my movements. Due to my hysteria, I jerked Iris harder than I meant to.
          In slow motion, I saw something flutter down, twirling in the air, before finally coming to rest on the back of my hand that intertwined Iris's in her lap.
          My screams ceased for a moment, and only then did I realize that my throat was sore and raw. I shoved the thought to the back of my mind - it didn't matter right now! Iris was hurt and she needed help - and removed my hand from Iris's shoulder to shakily pick up the item that had landed on my right hand.
          It was a single red flower petal. Turning it over in my hand, I examined it. It was coated in some sort of... liquid? There were splotches of white on the red flower...?
          When the truth smacked me in the face, I threw myself back, scrambling to get as faw away from the petal as possible. The flower petal wasn't red at all. Naturally, the color had been white. The deep crimson red of blood stained the once beautiful blossom.
          Blood stuck to my hands, but... I need to know. What... just what happened to Iris...?
          Trembling, I crawl forward. I gently place one of my blood-stained hands to Iris's forehead, careful to avoid the wound on top of her head. She was so cold... Why was she so cold...?
          I raised Iris's head and was met with the true nightmare.
          Iris's eyes - the warm brown ones, always full of life and occasionally a mischievous glint, that I had fallen in love with - were gone. They had been gouged out, replaced by flowers delicately placed in the empty sockets. Iris had been turned into some sick monster's sadistic art display.
          The same cheeks that would glow a brilliant shade of pink when she told me that she loved me, now had blood streaming down her face, just as tears would.
          She would never be able to smile her contagious smile ever again. Iris's mouth was wide open, rigid, and coated with blood, she had choked on it. Her expression was contorted to one of great terror, screaming for help that would never come.
          Worst of all... the flowers were irises. White irises, just like the ones hanging above our bed. Something that had once brough us both so much joy... was now the centerpiece of this hellish exhibit. Something... that had meant so much to both of us was now a twisted form of mockery. The barbaric killer was laughing in our... my face.
          Iris was dead.
          There was no denying the sight of what was in front of me. Upon this realization, I cried out, a wail that I didn't even know was humanly possible escaped my lungs.
          I threw myself away from Iris's body, clambering to get as far away as I could.
          A white-hot flash of pain seared through my head as it met the concrete bricks of the wall lining the alleyway. My vision began to blur, the world started to spin. A million questions ran through my aching head.
          Who could have done this? Why is this happening to us? Why?!
          My eyes began to grow heavy as my breathing slowed.
          No... no! I had to call... the police... 911... someone...! I can't... pass out yet... I need to get... help...
          My eyes gloss over, shifting in and out of focus, the dull ache in my skull threatening to slip me into an insensible state. It took everything in me to fight against it, hand fumbling for my phone in my pocket.
          I lazily glance up at Iris again, clammy hand searching for my phone. Blinking, I try to clear my foggy vision... but... I could see something... moving...?
          My eyes followed the movement, settling on Iris's mouth. If she were talking to me, I couldn't hear her. How...?
          Iris mouthed one word to me.
          "Run."
          That... that isn't possible, I thought as darkness creeped into my vision, slowly overtaking me. Iris was dead... but I saw her... tell me to run...? Run from what...?
          I found my phone in my pocket, breath becoming shallow and hands losing circulation. Soon as I contacted my phone, it dinged. I already knew who the message was from.
          The last thing I saw before slipping into unconsciousness was a text from "Iris."
          My dear, Mallory. I do hope that you like the flowers.