Sun steadied her eyes on the warm mahogany ceiling, moonlight hitting her eye. Her eyes roamed around her room, landing on the empty open doorway. Everything was quiet, save for the light rustling of the curtains.

She stood up on shaky legs, the coldness of the house seeping into her skin. All the lights were turned off, letting the moon cast its silver glow across the living room. An unsettling feeling buried itself in the pits of her gut.

Where was Miyo?

Her clammy hands sought for the back door's frame, hastily turning the knob. The empty garden met her terrified eyes.

Taking a shaky step forward, her bare feet stepped over grass and rocks. Sun's muscles were spasming with an anticipation she didn't understand. She just needed to find him.

She begged her mouth to open, to speak, to shout, but it wouldn't obey. Sun remained quiet as she searched the garden, under the trees and behind the bushes.

A familiar hole on the garden's fence caught her eye. It was overrun by leaves, swirling vines and a bush of yellow roses blocking her path. Without a second thought, she struck her hand to tear down the roses. It pricked her hand, drawing blood. Sun didn't wince. She continued forward.

The thorns bit down on her wrist; the vines wrapped around her forearm. She didn't flinch once, only continuing to claw her way through the fence. Blood caught on leaves and stones as she crawled her way through.

Her hands clasped the outside of the fence, and with a single push, pulled herself out to the other side.

Sun stood up, not bothering to dust herself off. Miyo's backyard was as unkempt as she had once seen it. Vines and overgrown bushes shadowed over each other, forming a dark, grim canopy over the house.

She walked forward, coldness seeping into her bones. The house had none of its lights on, rendering it almost hidden beneath the trees. Wrapping her arms around herself, she managed to find the back door, unhinged with the slightest bit of light peeking through.

Sun's feet slapped against the cold pavement and approached the door. With held breath, she peeked through the gaps.

The hallway was dark, a single flashlight laying haphazardly across the kitchen counter. Even outside, she could hear the faintest shouts. Her heart raced. Gulping, she steeled herself and opened the door. It made a loud creak, resonating through the kitchen.

Sun paused, gut turning, her feet poised to run.

The shouting only grew louder, unintelligible words of an argument echoing from upstairs.

Her feet passed through empty water bottles, plastic food wrappers. Strange goo stuck to her feet. Sun inhaled but went on, grabbing the flashlight from the counter.

The kitchen was a mess, the kitchen tap leaking and broken. Unwashed dishes and pans lay discarded on the sink or stashed lazily on the doorless cupboards. The pantry overflowed with empty chips and plastic pockets. The kitchen counters were sprinkled with flour. The floor, cluttered with clothes and hangers and broken toasters.

Sun held her breath, pointing her flashlight to the arc that led to the living room. She dropped the flashlight with a loud clang.

Sun gasped, backing away to the kitchen. Right above her, the screaming stopped. Sun wanted to leave. She wanted to run.

The couch in front of her was tattered, thrown to its side. Doused in blood, bright red blood.

Footsteps boomed down the stairs, shouting profanities that spurred her on her feet. Stumbling through clothes, Sun burst through the door and ran. She crawled through the fence, wood splintering her sides, vines dragging through her skin.

She ran and she hoped. She hoped Miyo wasn't home.

*

*

*

Sun approached the familiar hidden cliff. A form was sitting on the grass at the peak.

A relieved chuckle unwillingly escaped Sun's mouth, and she stumbled towards the hill. "Miyo, you're–"

Manasseh didn't turn to look at her. He had something in his hand, bashing it, once, twice, three times into his skull.

Sun stopped, no...

Before she could speak, Manasseh stopped, and from her place she heard a surprised gasp. As if he hadn't realized what he was doing, as if he regretted it. The rock, splattered with the blood as bright as the one in his house, rolled from his pale hands.

Slowly, Manasseh turned. Only for a moment, she saw it. His smile, the blood pouring from his forehead and exposing skull. His bloodshot eyes, not the golden amber ones she knew. This wasn't Manasseh, this wasn't the Manasseh she knew. And yet she remembered it. She couldn't forget.

"Sun...you're back." His smile betrayed the pain he must be in. "I was hoping you wouldn't see me like this. But you don't have to be afraid." Tears unmistakably pooled in his bloodied eyes. Shamefully, regretfully.

Sunlight brushed across his pale skin painted red. The sun scorched and burned through their bones.

Sun stayed still, then she fell, along with the rise of the sun's searing gaze.

***

Xandra set her hand under her chin, looking out the taxi window. The car sped through a sign, 'WELCOME TO BLOSSOM HILL, WHERE YOUR DREAMS CAN BLOOM', it said in cursive blue letters.

Trees swayed and danced as the car passed by, unfamiliar houses and small shops dotted either side of the road. Her memory of Blossom Hill was unsteady. She remembered the ice cream shop, now replaced by a fast food resto. The convenience store Jasmine usually dragged her to to buy Hello Kitty mattresses now stood as an abandoned commercial building.

The car turned, and turned again, branching from Blossom Hill highway and into the smaller parts of town. The houses were brightly colored, fences low and open. Children played ball in one of the houses' front yards.

A light, crippling feeling dawned on Xandra. It wasn't right to say that nothing changed. If ever, nothing remained at all. What a shame.

A brightly colored wooden sign caught Xandra's eye. 'BLOSSOM HILL PARK' it said in bold, yellow colors. Her breath hitched in her throat. It was but a fleeting moment, the lively letters almost shining against wood flashed against her eye.

The car sped past it. Xandra looked back to find the sign trampled and grim, paint flaking off its letters.

Everything was a blur. 

Xandra had gotten out of the taxi to come meet Xander right at their front lawn. He paid the driver and sent him off, gathering her luggage in his arms. Xandra could briefly remember him asking how it was in the city, how her studies are going, and that he had been watching her videos non stop. Xandra couldn't care less, but opted to answer as she had a million times.

'It was fine, I'm doing good, That's nice of you.'

Now she was back in her old room.

She opened the cherry red door, the familiar smell of lavender welcoming her. Her purple bed was neatly made, its soft velvety fabrics smooth and soft. The pastel purple wardrobe looked just as it used to, her mauve bedside table shining softly with the golden lamp atop.

Xandra stepped forward, familiarizing herself with the rusted brown, wooden pattern that wrapped along the lower wall. She ran her fingers along its grooves, memorized like the back of her hand.

Her hands tightened into fists, moving away from the walls and into her bedside table. It was clean, with no traces of dust lingering between her fingers. With a huff, Xandra collapsed on the bed, letting go of her tight grasp on her bag.

She looked out the window. The clean window overlooking greenery and trees, bushes and flowers. 

Xandra scrambled to a sitting position, clutching the knob and sliding open the window.

What...happened...?

Before she knew it, she was running down the stairs and into the back door. The window overlooking the backyard was also clean, rid of all the vines and blossoms that used to snake around it. Nothing but a few potted, whittling flowers remained.

Xandra turned the knob, pushing the door open.

She expected the wide, lush garden. Green in all its glory, flowers and color dotting its leaves. She expected flowers and bushes, towering plants and pretty little blossoms.

A sad, tiny garden met her eyes.

Xandra walked forward to the first potted flower, tiny and old. With her hands she could count the number of flowers in the garden. One, two, eleven.

Eleven lone plants lay orderly in pots and rows.

Where were the trees? The bushes? The rows and rows of everlasting forget-me-nots?

"Xandra?"

She turned to find a short, brunette girl smiling up at her. She couldn't have been less than twenty, but her low brown pigtails and baggy overall jumpsuit made her look much younger than she is.

Xandra's muscles relaxed, and she released a slow sigh. "Jasmine."

Jasmine squealed and threw her arms over Xandra's shoulders, swaying her a little. "Still remember me?"

"Come on now," Xandra pried her off calmly.

Jasmine hit her forearm, "You! Monster! Why weren't you answering any of my messages?" She added in a low voice, pouting a little, "Right when I thought you'd be free from university too."

"I can't really catch a break either way," Xandra said, sitting on a rickety bench.

Jasmine sat beside her, kicking her feet at the pebbles on the ground. "Y'know, it was my birthday last week."

Xandra looked at her as she combed her fingers through her hair. Crossing her arms, Xandra said, "You don't have to remind me." She went silent for a moment. "Sorry I didn't get you anything. I was busy."

Jasmine clicked her tongue and mumbled a slight, "I know I know."

An unsettling silence fell on the garden. Xandra gripped the bench's arm and looked up at the setting sun. Now that she thought of it, she seldom sees the sun high up in the sky recently.

Her throat parched at Jasmine's silence. It has been so long since she's last seen her. Though Jasmine had always tried to reach out to her through calls and messages, half the time Xandra couldn't hold a proper conversation before abruptly cutting their connection.

She tilted her head at Jasmine. Her honey brown eyes gaze off with an unusually thoughtful gaze, the two pigtails that used to be high up on her head now sit at the base of her neck. Passionate, playful, yet understanding, that was the Jasmine she remembered.

Jasmine wouldn't stop at anything until she's pulled out all of your deepest and juiciest secrets yet still knowing the importance of boundaries. Jasmine, who would talk and talk for hours and save Xandra from her mind and the silences she so dread.

But now here she is, silent. What happened? Xandra wanted to know. This wasn't the Jasmine she remembered.

"Sun."

Xandra's breath hitched in her throat. "Don't call me that."

"You used to let me call you Sunny!"

"I didn't."

A warm hand grabbed hers. Xandra turned to find serious brown eyes staring straight at her.

Jasmine said, "I know what you're thinking, especially after all the times it's taken us to get you here. And I just–" She stopped as if running out of words. "We were there too. But look at us, Jiselle's signing up for an actress' contract or whatever, Xander's well loved in his clinic, and I'm–'' Jasmine made a strained noise at the back of her throat, trying to push out the words.

She thrust out the hand holding Xandra and shouted, "I'm getting married!"

Xandra's mouth fell. Her grip on the bench tightened, releasing a breath. "Oh," she whispered. A chuckle followed, her eyes dropping to the single yellow flower on the ground.

"You're not happy?" Jasmine's voice was small as she tried to catch Xandra's gaze.

Xandra took a deep, quiet breath and looked straight at her friend's brown eyes. "I am, really I am. But I need to know who this unlucky person is first." She said with a slight tilt of her lips.

Jasmine exploded with laughter, "You're not gonna believe this."

For what Xandra thought was an hour and a half, Jasmine rattled on about this new found love of hers. 'Jason' was the name. What a load of crap. Xandra tried not to sour her face at every detail of this person, though she remained true to what she thought of the guy.

'Seems nice.' 'He sounds amazing.'

And indeed it was true, the guy seemed nice enough. Though that wasn't what was bothering her.

It wasn't until flies started biting Jasmine's arms that she decided to carry the conversation to Xandra's room.

"You're staying?" Xandra asked, cutting Jasmine off. She stopped in the hallway to her room. "Like...a sleepover?"

Jasmine, with a pillow and a roll of blankets, smiled and pulled it closer to her chest. "We never did manage to get the chance before you left Blossom Hill."

Xandra stalled for a moment, before nodding and opening the door. Jasmine stepped inside with an awed hoot.

"It's so...purple." She said, dropping the blankets on Xandra's lavender bed. She winked, "So very like you."

Xandra took to sweeping the floor beside her bed. She didn't respond for a long time.

Jasmine continued, "You know, I wish I could show you my room again. It's not full of Hello Kitty anymore though!"

Xandra snorted as she finished off sweeping. With a nod, she gestured for Jasmine to place her sleeping bag.

"Hey," Jasmine settled on her sleeping bag. Xandra hummed, pulling the blanket over her head.

"Are you still upset? That I didn't tell you sooner?" Jasmine said.

Xandra replied, "Of course I am." She added, "But I am happy... really happy for you." She gripped the sheets and looked at the moonlight glowing off the window.

"Alright," Jasmine sighed, though she seemed far away. "It's nice to know you're still the Sunny I know."

Xandra laughed a small, bitter laugh. "I know."

"Xandra, I changed though, didn't I?"

"You did. But that's good for you."

Jasmine chuckled, "You're such a bully."

She continued, "But are you fine with that? Me changing?"

The question left Xandra stunned, and she didn't answer for a while. Slowly, she took a deep breath and stared at the crescent moon that peeked through the clouds. "I suppose."

Jasmine gave a relieved exhale. "That's good to hear. Especially since I heard you've been admitted to the hospital more times this past few weeks. And this was the first time you agreed on a reunion here."

"I'm just here to...relax a little. I won't attend any reunion parties."

Jasmine chuckled, "What a killjoy. There won't be any parties this time around don't worry. Though there will be a festival."

"That isn't much better."

"No don't say that, you'll love this one for sure! It's the Blossom Hill Flower festival, there's going to be a whole lot of flowers."

Xandra sighed, "I've had my fair share of flower festivals eleven years ago." After a moment of silence, she added. "Who're the ones supplying the flowers this time around?"

Jasmine didn't respond for a while. She called out her name again, "Sun."

Xandra's lips were shut, fists gripping the blanket over her head.

"I've wanted to bring this up for a while now. But I still want to ask." Jasmine's voice couldn't be more serious. "Why did you leave 11 years ago?"

Xandra answered quickly, "High school, didn't I tell you? I had no opportunities in Blossom Hill, so my parents signed me up for a scholarship in the city."

"I already knew that, you really didn't need to recount all of it."

"You asked me why, didn't you? That's my answer."

"Don't mind what I said, just pretend I never asked." Jasmine's next words seemed far away, like an echo from the past. "But Xandra, in all honesty, I just wanted you to hear you talk about Manasseh again. I miss him too, you know. And I know he's the reason why you left in the first place."

Xandra's breath hitched; she closed her eyes. What are you talking about? She wanted to ask; she wanted to leave this conversation.

But Jasmine went on relentlessly, "And the reason why you're back now."