I sat alone all day, slipping in and out of sleep, never being interrupted. The pale green walls kept me company, and the gossiping birds that perched outside the window talked with me. I glanced at the door every now again, seeing if he was ever going to walk back through the door.

But he didn't.

Time...such a cruel thing. Even though I wanted nothing more than for it to rewind, or rather freeze, it pressed on mercilessly. So even though I imagined staring at the walls for only a few minutes, it turned out to be hours.

It was only when the sun slowly slipped out of the room, and the hall lights outside crept underneath the slit of the door that I had realized my day was gone. Darkness enclosed around me, bringing the demons with it.

I have come to learn that in the night, that is when you truly come out. The moon, admirable and humble, sits there and watches as every person lets their facade disappear, finally shining brighter than the sun that humbles them in the day.

Some cry themselves to sleep. Others are making love to their dear one. Some are sitting in their misery, ready to take their lives. Others are thanking their God for the life they have. Some listen to sad music in their bed, thinking of someone. Others are out dancing, swaying to loud music that will take their hearing for the remainder of the night. Some are drowning their sorrows in a glass of alcohol. Others are using the demonic substance as a celebratory party favor.

And the moon sees it all. He sits quietly, offering his sympathy, his congratulations, his smiles, his everything. And that's why people unravel beneath his gaze. Because he is there. And he won't judge.

A large amount of light pools into the room, completely shaking me out of my euphoric state. I blink, trying to identify my visitor, and sigh when I see him.

"Hello, Harold," I greet him wearily. He comes to my bedside, and my eyes trail him.

"How've you been, Mac?" His voice is full of curiosity, and I know the meaning behind his words having nothing to do with the injuries inflicted upon my body.

I chuckle dryly. "Oh, just swell."

Harry shoots me a look of sympathy, but it's also bitter. I'm sure his loyalties lie with his best mate - and that's how it should be - making my jabs at him painful.

"Well sounds like you're going to be able to leave tomorrow, yeah?" He changes the subject.

I only shrug, unsure of my own future. It seems as though everyone knows where my whereabouts will take place, and what's best for me, but I don't. No one has bothered to explain a thing.

"So there's this benefit thing we have to sponsor, all the other boys have people to accompany them. Niall has Sam, Zayn has Perrie, and I believe Liam is taking Sophia. And Louis is taking-" Harry cut off when he saw the raging anger light up my once blank face instantly. I looked up at him with a pleading rage. I was so angry with the circumstances, jealousy and disbelief washing through me, that it made it painful to be reminded.

He caught on, and started over. "Since you're not doing anything, I was curious if you wanted to go with me. You need to get out, love. I'm unsure how long you've been in here... But it's time for you to reenter the real world. And have a little fun while you're at it."

I snorted at him. "And attending a ball, with fancy food, and fancy music, and snotty girls with fancy dresses is the real world? We must live in very different worlds, Mr. Styles."

Harry looks regretful at my logic. His face contorts looking like he is deep in thought. I regret what I said, seeing as he only had good intentions. So I interrupt his mental conversation with himself. "I suppose I should get that dress that I bought a million years ago out of the back of my closet anyhow." I offer him a small grin, that Harry beats. He lights up with excitement, hugging me gratefully.

A bubbly giggle slips out of my mouth at the sight of his childish happiness.

He soon leaves me, once again to the the company of the moon. I stare back at him for several moments, having a silent conversation with him.

But it's not long after that until I feel myself slowly slipping into a disturbed sleep.

~~~

The next day passed in a numbing blur, whizzing past me before I even had a chance to check if my hair looked okay.

The docs all bud my goodbye, and good health requesting a check up every now and again. Bitterly, I agreed. Really the thought of returning to a hospital was repulsive.

I sat in my bathroom, looking at my horrendous appearance, wondering if a human being could look even more unattractive. My brown hair was choppy, and needed a trim, and my bruised face could not be concealed with even the most magical makeup.

Who is that girl in the mirror? Who am I looking at? Surely that broken and damaged girl is not me. No, because I am the fierce lioness I had once fought so hard to become.

Right?

Whilst looking into the reflection of a girl I do not know, the only thought that springs into my mind is the calming aroma of my mother. And as I comb through my tangled locks, the only thing I can imagine is her soft but warning voice calling out to me, telling me that beauty is only skin deep.

"Maci, darling, would you stop your fidgeting?! Or would you rather your hair look like it belongs on top of a lion?!"

"Well of course, mumma. I wish to become a fierce lion that everyone fears!" I nod in finality. She shoots me a warning look, but giggles along with me as I bare my teeth menacingly. My enthusiasm amuses her, because it is only one a young child can produce about the most ridiculous things.

"Oh baby, I cannot wait for the day when a man tames your animalistic heart making you a soft kitten," she chuckles.

I stop my bouncing, and frown at her smiling reflection. The thought is preposterous to my naive mind. I fold my frail arms across my chest. "No one wants me. There are far prettier girls." To prove my point, I motion to my tangled mane, crazy and uncontrollable, and mess it further. She slaps my hand away with a hard look to her eye. And that is when I know that she is no longer the nurturing mother she was only moments ago. She is now a stern lecturing teacher, her only intent to prove me wrong.

"Do you think that butterflies are beautiful their entire life? Do you think that swans were always elegant? Do you think that a flower blooms instantly? Each has a path to go down, my dear Maci. Each has their own flaws that they use to their advantage, making them the unique and beautiful creature that they are. You are simply the ugly duckling, learning to fly, the plump caterpillar on its way to beauty, and the tiny bud that has yet to bloom. It all comes in due time. Any man would be lucky to have you." Her silver eyes soften a bit, signaling she has come down from her rage. I stare into them, confused as to how she could look so different even though we are related. Her hair is silky and blonde, mine is ratty and brown. Her eyes are a happy silver, displaying every form of emotion she could ever feel. Mine are brown and dull.

I try my hardest to decipher her words, trying to figure out exactly what she is telling me. Am I on my way to be be pretty? Will I ever be as pretty as my mother?

"Mother, when will I ever get to look like you?" I ask her with curiosity dripping from my words.

"And why would you ever want that?" She asks appalled.

"Because you're pretty!" I scrunch my eyebrows at her, confused as to why she would be so shocked.

My mother chuckles sadly. "Oh, my dear, you will surpass with so much gracefulness that my face will only be a distant memory." She takes a ringlet of my hair that was curled to perfection, and toys with it sadly. I frown at her, but could only feel my heart soar with excitement with the thought of the years to come.

I was in bloom, soon to be a beautiful flower.

A soft tears plummets down my cheek, tearing me out of my memories. My mother was a wicked, and cruel woman. But she never did cease to conjure ridiculous ideas into my mind. Countless times she has inspired me to do something worth while, leaving the normal life behind.

I'm unsure when she became bitter and angry, but she was a loving, caring woman then. Her soft eyes were the most reassuring thing, and her arms were a safe haven.

A soft knock coming from the door sounds. I wipe the flowing tears away, and sent one last regretful look at the mirror before I stagger over to it.

When I open it, no one is in sight, only a sleek black bag on the ground. Gingerly, I take it into my arms, and slip back into the darkness of my home.

For a while, I looked at it, sitting on a chair, unsure of whether to open it or not. But my wonders got the best of me, and soon I was ripping it open, my eager eyes scavenging for the treasure.

And it really was a treasure. I jump back out of shock, gazing at the beautiful gown inside. It was a strapless, vintage ivory gown layered in lace. With a hand pressed to my heart, I picked it up, holding it to me. It was beautiful.

A light flutter caught my attention, and I saw a piece of paper sitting on the ground. Setting the gown back onto the couch carefully, I picked up the note.

A beautiful gown for a beautiful flower. Enjoy, my darling, for you have bloomed.
xx

Notes

Hey, girls. So this is about to get interesting. I hope.
I'm a horrid updater, but I promise to get a new chapter up once every weekend. Yes you heard me right.
This chapter is not inspired by a song, but the title has a secret meaning beneath it, that is very special to me. So yeah.
Who do you think sent the dress? And when are Louis and Maci going to get together?!
And check out my new story! Right now!
Lol, anyways it's been fun ladies I'll talk to ya soon<3

~M