“Another spine-chilling cold morning, ahh,” I murmured as I peered out at the frost-covered world through my car window. It was a daily routine to stop at a tea stall and warm myself up with a hot cup of tea before heading to work. Little did I know that this particular morning would change everything.

As I sipped my tea, I caught sight of a flower shop across the street. Among the vibrant yellow and orange daffodils, I saw her for the first time. She appeared ethereal, gracefully playing with the flowers, her smile radiant and captivating. Her hair danced with the wind, adding to her enchanting aura. My world froze in that moment.

Caught off guard by her gaze, she raised an eyebrow and asked, “Do you want to buy some flowers?”

Stammering, I replied, “Yes, I want to have these flowers.”

With a smile, she handed me a bouquet of daffodils. I paid her and left for work, but my mind refused to let go of her thoughts. Strange feelings took root in my heart, unfamiliar and unsettling. I became consumed by her presence. Every day, I found myself drawn to the flower shop, buying the same daffodils, as if they held some inexplicable connection to her.

I observed her through the days, noticing her kind acts, her compassion for others, and even her melodic singing. My infatuation grew, enveloping me in a world of delusion. Unbeknownst to me I was creating a vivid illusion of a deep connection between us.

On the ninth day of my flower shop visits, curiosity got the better of her. She asked me, “You really love someone, don’t you? You buy these flowers daily for her. She must be someone really special.”

Locked in the grip of my delusion, I gazed into her eyes and confessed, “Yes, she is very special. Yes, I love her more than anything or anyone in this world.”

Impressed by my commitment, she handed me a preserved red rose as a token of appreciation. “You can gift her this. She will love it,” she said with genuine warmth.

I thanked her, accepting the gift, and left for home. The weight in my chest grew heavier. I couldn’t bear to be away from her any longer.

That night, I sat down at my desk, my mind spinning with conflicting emotions. I picked up a pen and began writing a letter, addressing it to my beloved Daffodil. It was both a declaration of love and a plea for understanding. In my delusion, I poured out my heart, confessing my deep affection for her. Alongside the letter, I placed the preserved red rose as a symbol of my enduring love.

The following day, determined to finally reveal my feelings, I set out to find her at the flower shop. To my dismay, I discovered that she was nowhere to be found. There was no sign of the flower shop. I asked the nearby shop owners but to my surprise they were not aware of any flower shop there. I contorted with stupefaction. How is this possible? I just met her yesterday! The world infront of my eyes faded and I fall on the ground. 

I opened my eyes the next day , I was lying on the hospital bed. I took my phone and searched for the flower shop, what came next shook me . The flower shop was present fourteen years ago handled by a girl named ‘Daffodil’. One day she was killed by a man who was enraged by rejection of his proposal. Besides the article, was inserted my photo.