Extra 7.2 The Flower Child

***Disclaimer: This chapter involves death, drugs, and poor choices. 

Hurts… 

It hurts…

It was as if the center of her world was rotating around a ball of pain. Every muscle felt it, trembling in fear the more it moved. Her body wanted to give in, but her spirit wasn't willing.

Even if it was painful, she was still stubborn.

*Beep*

*Beep*

*Beep*

A rhythmic sound echoed in that darkness, returning her to her senses. Focusing on that sound, she rationalized with herself until she felt a twitch of her finger.

Ah.

That's right.

Living is pain, but it is still life.

Her eyes slowly fluttered open, wincing from the fake luminescence.

-What's going on?-

She felt as if rocks were placed on top of her, making her body feel twice as heavy. Every time she took in a breath, her entire body trembled from the pain. It was as if every bone in her body had broken all at once.

Her mother hugged her once she saw her move, "Thank our Lord you are saved! I knew he would listen to our prayers!"

In a split-second flash, her memories came rushing back.

The car ride…

The argument…

Her sister causing the car to crash…

Her eyes blinked slowly, "I… I…"

Although she wanted to ask how her sister was, she was also too afraid to know the answer. There was a dark feeling in her stomach, much like a pit that couldn't be digested.

"I told you girls to wear a seatbelt! Ah, but thank the Lord you are safe! He protected you!! You're alive!"

"I… what…"

"I'm so glad you are safe, Elizabeth. If you had also died I would have-"

Her heart crashed to the bottom of her chest.

"What!?" She panicked and clutched her sheets, "What do you mean by also!?"

"I'm sorry, baby girl… Your sister's dead." 

*Beep beep beep beep*

Her heart started thumping wildly as a realization hit.

Her mother's hug tightened, "When I sent her to pick you up from the library, I didn't know she was drunk! I can't believe she almost got you killed!!! I should have known better than to trust that girl-"

Her eyes trembled as she whispered, "She… She…"

"That girl always made terrible decisions… I warned her it would catch up eventually." Her mother pulled back and gently touched her cheek, "I can't believe she almost took you with her."

As her mother gushed with love and affection for her, her eyes slowly turned to the window where the reflection met her gaze. As soon as she saw that sight, she knew exactly why her mother had called for her as she did. She could hardly recognize herself, her face was swollen and scars created patches on her head.

That day, she had been tossed from a car after the car lost control. While her sister was tossed into a tree, she was tossed into shrubbery which broke her bones but didn't kill her.

Elizabeth had lost her mind knowing her sister had kissed her boyfriend. And although she shouldn't have done that…

Even if it was to prove what a horrible man he was…

Was this karma?

The funeral commenced, and she dragged her broken body to the plot of land where she watched herself being dropped to the ground. Everyone kept telling her they were happy it was her who survived. However, there was one person who had a different opinion. 

Her brother Michael screamed and cried for his sister, and despite being beside him, it wasn't her that he wanted.

He wanted Rebecca.

Everyone else had dry eyes, but not him. She had never seen her brother so distraught, even when he was being bullied. 

She wanted to reach out to her brother. She wanted to hug him and comfort him.

However…

Elizabeth and Michael never had that relationship.

Rebecca and Michael did.

And she was…

"Elizabeth".

After returning to school, her grades weren't good but everyone attributed that to her traumatic experience. They were beside her every step of the way, telling her she would get it eventually…

And she did.

She tried to be the best she could be.

…Since everyone else wanted Elizabeth.

Then she would become the perfect Elizabeth.

Luckily for her, she had already been accepted into college before the accident. All her hard work was done for her.

Now she just had to take it with a smile.

However…

Her brother was no longer the same. He fell into the wrong crowd, then eventually got in trouble with the law.

"Hey, Lizzy."

She stared dumbfounded at Michael who was wearing a camouflage bag and uniform, "Mikey. What's all that?"

He scratched his head in embarrassment, "I'm joining the army, Liz."

Her mouth hung open, "...What?"

"I'm going to be sent to 'Nam."

"What do you mean going to the war!? Do you know how many people have died-"

"-Liz." His deep voice ceased her words, "I ain't got a future like you. The Law is making me go. I don't got a choice. They drafted me."

She grabbed onto his hands, "You don't have to go! I know a friend who can sneak you into Canada-"

He pulled his hands out of hers, "Goodbye, Liz. I will see you when I get back."

Michael gave her a salute which showed off the heart tattoo he had gotten after his sister's death. Her eyes were stuck on that name in the middle and the date of the accident. As she choked back tears, she watched her brother head off to his bus worried that she would never see him again.

That crawling feeling of fear hadn't been wrong.

After one year of service, her brother's platoon was bombed leaving only sparse pieces to be recovered. That year, they returned to the plot containing her identical body and buried the small box that wore stripes and stars.

After everyone had gone, only one person remained behind.

"Elizabeth".

Her fingers traced the headstone as she struggled to breathe, "What… What was the point of being Lizzy… Who… Who cares if I made everyone else happy… If you… If you are dead… What's the point…"

Life continued moving, but for "Elizabeth" it seemed stagnant. Furious at the war for taking her remaining sibling, she stopped attending classes and protested instead. Her style changed, adopting a similar look to others in her era. Her hair was long and wavy, with a flower headband placed on top. She wore round circular glasses without prescription and a long flowy skirt. She went around, placing flowers into guns all while singing in a calming voice.

"Elizabeth"

Her dead brother called for her, so she protested more.

"Elizabeth"

She was getting annoyed by that name.

"Elizabeth"

Why didn't she spend more time with him?

"Elizabeth" sat on the grass at campus, her eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. Her body was trembling as her unfocused eyes stared into space. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she struggled to breathe. She was being eaten alive by guilt.

If "Rebecca" had been there, her brother wouldn't have fallen into the bad crowd.

He might have been able to escape the draft.

"Hey man… You need to relax." A man with a group of students who had been taking refuge next to her had noticed her distressed appearance. He handed over a rolled item with smoke coming from the tip, "Take a hit of this. It will help."

Her breathing was so quick, she grabbed it without thinking.

She wanted it to stop.

She didn't want to feel that way ever again.

As soon as her lips touched it, her life would never go back to how it was.

She dropped out of college and was never of conscious mind.

There was always music.

There was always singing.

Bright colors.

Laughter that vibrated with the walls.

Men.

Women.

She had them all.

She groaned, rolling to her side as she felt clarity returning to her. She groped beside her, touching bare skin when she'd rather have something else in her hand.

"Ugh…"

Suddenly the door burst open, "Piggies are here! They are here! They found out about the bombs we sent!"

Everyone jumped up and went into full panic. Her eyes blinked slowly as she watched them all grab onto the vials and pour themselves the blue drink.

"They won't take us alive!"

"They'll never get us!"

She rubbed her eyes as the person beside her handed her the drink and vial, "Add it all to your Koolaid."

"Mhm."

She pocketed the vial and placed the Koolaid down. Since everyone was already drinking and paying her no attention, she rolled over and crawled to the bathroom. For the first time, she could see her face without any hallucinations.

Bloodshot eyes.

Sunken cheekbones.

Wispy hair.

…It wasn't a good sight.

She splashed some water on her face before walking out to see everyone on the ground seizing up and foaming at the mouth. She stepped over their twitching bodies and picked up her clothes. After putting them on, she walked out of the back door, evading the police who were breaking into the house.

Without looking back, she strolled along the road. Each time a car drove past her, she held out her thumb, hoping one would stop. Eventually, a car did.

A man who gave her the creeps as her stepfathers usually did, rolled down his window.

"Where are you heading?"

"California."

His lips curled up sinisterly, "Just the way I'm going."

She stared at him for a moment. Deep down, she recognized there was something wrong with the man who was of good appearance but had dead eyes. However, she had just become sober after months of binging so she didn't really care.

Against her better judgment, she opened the door and sat down on the seat, kicking a few cans at her feet. Once the door was shut, a locking mechanism came from the driver's side. She gave it a look but didn't feel too concerned. As they started driving, she drifted asleep.

The driver hit a bump, accidentally smacking her head against the window. She woke up, rubbing the area. "How long was I asleep?"

"A few hours."

She looked out of the window and realized the sun was behind them, "Aren't we going in the opposite direction?"

"Nope. You're probably confused from just waking up."

"Ah."

Her eyes lowered until stopping at the sight of spots of brown on the door that hadn't been wiped clean.

Was she bleeding?

No.

So whose blood…

"Elizabeth" turned around and looked at the seat behind her, just now noticing there was a rope. Something flashed in her eye, catching her attention. She quickly glanced at the man's thigh and noticed a concealed barrel close to his hand. His fingers were slowly coiling around the handle, preparing for what would happen next. Without letting him get the jump on her, she turned her focus to the empty beer cans at her feet.

"You know Mister, it's not good to drink and drive."

"Huh?"

Taking advantage of his momentary confusion, she grabbed the wheel and yanked. 

The familiar sound of squealing and rubber burning reached her nose, making her recall a time when she was once in the other man's position. While he struggled to regain control, they skidded off the road and hit several bumps before slamming head-first into a tree.

Her vision went white as an airbag exploded in front of her and protected her face. After everything had stopped, she slowly leaned back and winced from the tightness in her neck and back. Her aching head turned to see the man slumped over the wheel.

She reached out to check his pulse and confirmed he was still alive but unconscious. Realizing she might not have that much time before he woke up, she quickly scrambled out of the car, kicking the door open.

A smarter person would have found a way to a phone and called the cops. However, "Elizabeth" had just spent her time with a group of people committing bombings.

Why would she get involved with the police now?

Who would even believe her?

Thus, she continued walking and stuck her thumb out, ignoring the throbbing from the cut on her forehead. It didn't take long until she saw a rounded van with smoke pouring out of the windows. When the scent hit her nose, her entire body relaxed. Several girls wearing clothes similar to hers stuck their heads out.

"Hey man! Where you heading?"

"California."

"Hop in! We are going to the same place."

She climbed in the van and partook in their gifts until the pain in her forehead no longer became a concern to her. As they traveled, she listened to them speak.

"He's phenomenal man. No one sticks it to the pigs like he does."

"Yeah, it's a great family. You should join us in San Francisco."

Elizabeth nodded, "Sure. I ain't got nowhere else to be."

Just like that, she gained a new family. They partied, they begged on the street, and they danced at night. She preferred a family like this, even if she was on a downward spiral.

She would take whatever was handed to her.

She would follow in whatever activity they wanted to follow.

However, as the days stretched on her body was getting thinner and thinner. Even when she wasn't sober, her body hurt. She vomited constantly until she was no longer able to stand up on her own.

Her "brother" handed her a tray with a powder on it, "Want a hit?"

She shook her head and pushed it away, "No. I feel like sh*t."

"This will help."

She grimaced, "I think I might need to see a doctor."

"Don't see a doctor. They are all con artists."

"I gotta though."

Her "sister" heard her, "There's a free clinic on third. They helped me when I was OD'ing."

"Thanks." She forced herself to stand up and excused herself from the house they all shared. While she walked past the handful of people chatting and swaying, she could tell a few were more anxious than usual.

…But she didn't really care.

Her body was aching too much to waste time being concerned about others. As she made her way to the clinic, it took hours to even get seen. Her blood was taken and she was eventually shown into the waiting room. Without anything else to do, she stared at the giant TV box that was playing the news.

She stared at the screen, watching as her previous friends were marched handcuffed. They were singing and laughing, not taking their charges seriously.

Elizabeth watched, knowing that she could no longer return to her family. At the realization of this, she suddenly felt empty inside.

"Elizabeth Carson. The doctor is ready to give you your results."

She stood up with a nod and followed the nurse who led her to the doctor's office. He put down his papers and faced her with a calm expression.

"...It's called H.I.V."

She blinked, staring at the doctor.

"It's an epidemic. We are still struggling to find out how to prevent people from dying and unfortunately, your case is too advanced to treat."

"But I thought that-" She lowered her voice, "-Only certain men get the disease."

"It's not just men. It's also commonly passed around-" He looked her up and down with slight judgment, "-hippies such as yourself."

As the doctor went down the list of potential outcomes and treatments, her eyes stared off into space. During her early teens and twenties, she went through so many experiences where she could have died but didn't.

To think that…

This was what would take her life.

"I know of a clinic on the coast that is taking patients in like you. If you don't have family, it is a nice place to spend the rest of your days. There are nurses who will care for you and you will have a beautiful view." 

"For those without a family…"

"W-Was I wrong? If you have a family, then-"

She shook her head slowly, "No. I don't."

He looked at her with compassionate eyes, "So… Are you interested?"

She gave a slow nod of the head. After packing up her meager things, she moved to the Villa to spend her final days staring at the ocean. She closed her eyes, listening to the birds chirp and the waves gently hitting the beach. Only the warm weather made up for the aches in her body.

"Miss Elizabeth."

She opened her eyes and looked over at the nurse.

"How are you feeling today?"

"Nostalgic."

The nurse laughed, "How so?"

She stared at the sun reflecting across the water and spoke calmly, "I'm reflecting on my life… Did you know I was accidentally part of a terrorist group?"

"...How are you accidentally part of that?"

"Well I was there for the drugs. I didn't actually participate. I didn't leave because they were attacking police and protesting against the Vietnam war. At the time, I thought it was perfectly reasonable."

"...I see."

"After that, I left before I could be arrested and met a serial killer."

"..."

"I don't think he was caught though."

"..."

"To think that my time with the family is what eventually led to my death… I would have thought it was something else."

The nurse was so speechless, that she changed the subject. "Would you care for anything to drink?"

Her finger gently rubbed the vial she had kept after all the years.

"...Some koolaid would be nice."