Daisy Meets Johann's

Chapter 1.5: I Met Him

My name is Marie Oliver. Worked as a regular contributor to fashion magazines for women and wrote more travel and cultural columns because of the nomadic lifestyle I have lived since graduating from High School. And because it was also two years ago that I decided to permanently work remotely.

Still single until now because belim went from love clapping one hand with Matthew. I'm not going to extend this part.

Never feel the sense of life as a student because of the focus of working part-time as a freelance writer. I was lucky to have attended the wall magazine club during High School and thanks to him, my writing flight hours can start early even since I can read and write, since I can read and write, I have written a lot in journal books thanks to the influence of my mother. The difference is that I have not been able to contribute to public publication.

If I further elaborate my life journey in full even if I include the portfolio in narrative form, I have no intention of showing off, but believe me, it would only take one's time for a three-day weekend if it was his short story version and likely spend a week if there was a version of his biography. Especially if it would only drain my energy to digest the situation I am currently in. Moreover, this will not be able to enter as a list of my life history later if I have entered retirement.

Maybe I'm still asleep or maybe I fell asleep when Matthew explained his point of view on the story in the agenda book. I was anxious to think this was just a dream, but the probability for it seemed to be at zero, as this combination of sweetness and wryness woke me up from pretending to be asleep. A plate of Lemon cheese cake was served on a large tray next to me lying down. This is my breakfast menu, which I said was my favorite.

I didn't sleep all night because I woke up in the middle of the night and I realized I wasn't in my usual room. I mean, where are the white curtains with glass windows and wooden floors with purple carpets under the mattress? All of it was replaced with a four-poster bed covered with a golden and heart-red silk curtain with a cyprus leaf-like motif. Not until there, the interior of my room turned into a wedding cake with pastel yellow and brown. Three times the size of my room, the size of a royal suite.

On the other hand I don't want this to be just a dream, but there is something more astounding that makes me not want to admit that this is real.

"Miss Daisy." Someone called from outside the door.

Oh, there's nothing wrong with that name. What was wrong was that the name was not directed at me but rather at the bodies of others I entered. I really wanted to dodge this reality, but fate made a very cruel joke.

How not? You know what it's like to wake up from a sleep that seems like just a little while and then realize you're inside someone else's body. Plus, this body was still ten years old. My age was reduced to what purpose? How am I supposed to be in this world of this little girl named Daisy?

My last memory at that time was that I was with Matthew talking in my workroom, then woke up with a headache next door. I was still not fully aware when someone entered the room with his voice full of anxiety, calling a name that was not my name, which made me instantly aware, she said, I don't know this person nor do I know myself by that name. Time seemed so fast when I fainted from shock and woke up again not long after with many people surrounding the bed. All of their faces reminded me of the ghostly faces in horror movies. Not because of the resemblance and the sensation of fear, but because of their existence can make me scream hysterically throughout the screening in the cinema. I'm not exaggerating about this, but I can hold it into my heart.

Not hearing my answer, the man just walked into the room. A middle-aged woman in a maid uniform and her upbringing reminded me of Mrs. Crocombe, head cook at Audley End House. There were five people who followed him dressed up that were almost similar, but they looked younger.

"Miss Daisy's. How are you doing?"ask with a formal tone. I turned my gaze in the other direction because I did not know how to respond to the question. Maybe he'll think I'm ignoring him, but I don't know anything about this girl, whose life I took over. There was a little bit of guilt, but I realized this body condition was not okay. Skinny and malnourished. His body is as light as cotton. I could feel the visible bones in his legs and hands.

"Mrs. Hogan and Lord Hogan were in the dining room. After cleaning up, they'll come to Miss Daisy's room. There'll be a doctor coming after you to check on you."

Straight and efficient. I don't need to ask anymore, just nodding small in response.

I have not reached the stage of getting used to it, but by being forced to follow the flow of activities in the morning. The servants simply took off my clothes and directed me to have a tub filled with hot water. Some people in the back were carrying a few buckets of hot water. I was quite surprised when my clothes were opened straight away, but I realized this was the body of a ten-year-old girl and not my body. This little girl's skin was too pale and it looked right that she had a problem with her health. However, I don't know yet just how it feels like this body is too weak to move a little.

Just taking a shower can take hours. However, I respect their taste in giving aromatherapy in the bathtub. It smells like the lemon cake I ate. Next, they dressed me in a simple long sea blue dress combined with some lace fabric and a white ribbon tied around the waist. It was like Alice in Wonderland.

While facing the mirror I was so flabbergasted by this girl's face. Her hair was wavy to the waist in golden blonde. Instantly my confidence that usually can always be brought by the Karl Lagerfeld fashion show event, faded immediately after knowing the face of this girl. She combined Christine in Phantom of the Opera with Dakota Fanning as a child when she played Lucy in I am Sam.

Gosh darn. Why from earlier I did not look in the mirror to see this face, instead spending too long contemplating on the bed.

It's not wrong, anyway, because mentally I still can't accept the situation I'm in. Maybe I haven't really been able to deal with it either.

So, before facing these two little girl parents, I had to recall my meeting with Matthew.

What happened between the time lapse of our discussion to awaken in this world. Why would I end up in a story written in my mother's agenda book? Vaguely Matthew's words infiltrate into memory. With great difficulty, I tried to trigger something as a clue.

"Matthew. What happened back then? What the hell happened to you?

"It's exactly a diary, but almost every point of view of the character is here. There is no just Johann. You know why?"

Matthew looked at me with a serious look. I just shook my head, resigned, and gave up on turning my brain once more. Because all of this makes absolutely no sense.

Matthew still answered.

"Don't make me wait, Mat. Because I'm curious half to die."

Matthew frowned, his expression looking somewhat disappointed.

"You who have been reading this for a long time know better."

Well, I'm not a good reader. I admit it. And I don't want to argue long with him. His facial expression was so enthusiastic. I don't want to disappoint him, but I really don't have any other leads. I suck at analysis, but not at gathering information. With all those footnotes, I still couldn't pull the red thread.

"Johannes. The absence of her point of view here is probably because she wrote this story."

I wouldn't be surprised if Stephen King wrote a romance novel, but if Johann had a different story. This was beyond my expectations and my reaction was just to laugh grimacingly.

"You may say something else, but look at the background written in half. Although he was right in his story, but he was how he expressed it in words. Usually you're more adept at choosing diction."

"No. Exactly those words stuck in your head."

I was so upset because I felt defeated by someone who had just read this story.

"There was no scandal in Johann's life nor in Hogan's, either"timpalku quickly before Matthew could say anything else. Maybe he wants to add something that will only make me lose again.

"This family with Johann has a very complex relationship. Then, why does it feel as if Johann likes this girl who should be his stepbrother. Doesn't that fit into a scandal."

"They have no blood relation so reasonable. This Johann inexplicably scares me anyway. It's not that he committed a crime that was too violent, he made me sympathize with what he did. No one can justify killing of any kind, but if I feel pity and forgive him easily, am I too good for these kinds of people."

Matthew nodded in disagreement.

"You're not Mother Theresa. Maybe just certain people. Because over the years you've been following the story, you feel like you have an inner bond with all the characters in the story and Johann is no exception."

That makes sense. Especially if this has been with you for so long. Johann is a character who allows me to be in any position. It could be someone who hates him or someone who loves him. Maybe because it was written in the mother's relics agenda book, I was expecting something in this story.

This girl named Daisy also could not decide which position she was in. Sometimes he could only blame himself and one day he was so eager to be a good brother.

Then, a thought came to my mind.

"Matt. How do you feel about surviving by killing those closest to you?"