Bottled Love

It hurt. It was painful like I way I had treated others. Guilt gnawed at my bleeding heart and it would never stop. I wanted it to stop, to stop so badly. My throat tightened at the thought of him…Feenie…Phoenix… Alternatively, the way he had called me Dollie when I had been with him two times. Twice in my life, that feeling of passion had burned through my heart. Now where was my heart again?

I laughed; a raspy, taciturn chuckle that sent goose bumps to all parts of my body. It was not humorous to me, just depressing. I did not know why it was depressing…and that made me as frustrated as a famished wolf. My knees unbuckled; I collapsed to the ground. What was this feeling? I cannot remember. Feenie? Dammit, where are you? Where are you? Hysteria clouded my brain. Throughout the next few minutes, I was sobbing cascading waterfalls, cackling like a lunatic. Stop it…stop it!

I could hear Phoenix‘s—my Feenie’s—voice murmuring to me. I felt wonderful. I could hear myself talking in a faraway reminiscence.

“Hey, Dollie, what’cha thinking about?” Feenie had smiled, so warmly, as he took my hand.

“I’m watching the birds fly. It’s sad.” I remember shedding a tear. Feenie had tucked a stray piece of my crimson hair behind my ear.

“They’ll come back, Dollie, they’ll come back…”

I don’t remember him saying this. One name echoed in my mind, chanting repeatedly: Iris.

“I believe you, Feenie. I love you,” my sister had whispered. All three of the last words were both of ours.

Iris…

If I had the chance to slay again, you would be my victim. You stole everything from me, sister…my reveries, my psyche…my Feenie.

* * *

I was shaking from head to toe. This was the day that I would be able to see Phoenix Wright again. Three hours before the current time of eight o’clock, Iris had suspiciously let me go to his school. As I had left, I heard her whisper hoarsely to me, “act like I would.” Those words made me giggle mentally. I had to act like her. Nevertheless, I knew that if I did not act innocently, someone would see through my mask. Iris told me that she would call me on my cell phone during lunch.

My hands were quivering as I took out the cell phone. A garbage can was nearby to my right and I smiled wickedly; I had won this battle over Iris. I tossed the phone into the garbage, and when no one was around, I put my hand into it and made sure that papers covered it. Satisfied, with Iris’ voice tranquilizing gradually, I entered through the doors of Ivy University.

“Dahlia Hawthorne?” A husky, somber voice startled me. In terror, I dropped my umbrella to the floor, my heart pounding through my body. My carmine eyes swiftly inspected the man, instantly recognizing him as Professor Lydae. I cleared my throat and bent down to pick up the umbrella, smiling innocuously.

“Professor, you startled me,” I said politely. He stiffened and stood up from the desk he was sitting at, scowling into my eyes.

“Miss Hawthorne, as a scholar here at Ivy University, you should comprehend that no student is permitted to flow through these doors. I advocate that you purchase spectacles, as there are three words sprawled across these doors. Care to read them?” Professor Lydae’s eyes scorched into mine. He tapped his left wellington boot on the tiled floor.

“It must have slipped my mind. Please excuse me,” I replied with a thin smile. Before I could get the chance to walk away, he grabbed my shoulder.

“The bell, Miss Hawthorne.”

“The bell-?” For a moment, I was utterly bemused before a ring screamed in my ears. My whole body reacted—I jerked against the wall. The professor stared at me closely before shaking his head briskly. He shoved a piece of paper in my hand and rushed me off with a wave.

Dahlia Hawthorne to Room 105, Time and Date: 8:04 on May 3, Professor Lydae, Late Pass

Embarrassed, I exited the doors and wound up having extreme difficulty finding my first period class. Iris had not given me any warnings that there was not a single map at the university and I soundlessly held a worthless grudge against her; again. Irritated at my sister’s trick, which I would’ve never guessed she would have the valor to do, I sidestepped into yet another set of silver doors, hoping this time I was in the right place. With my black cat luck, it was probably the cafeteria or library, so I was astonished that, indeed, it was Room 105, the English room.

My face turned carnation red from forehead to chin as I scampered over to the front desk of the classroom. Everyone was gawking at me, probably surprised that I was being so clumsy. They made me uncomfortable and I tripped over my futile shoes. The white butterflies on them had rubbed together or my feet had fallen over someone’s desk. A familiar laugh filled my ears and let tears fall down my cheek. I turned away to avoid even more humiliation. The professor two feet away from me, Mrs. Groven, took the note with a slight grin and patted my back, in an effort to hide my weeping.

As I turned my torso to face the class, one face caught my eye instantly. It was Doug Swallow, my worst nightmare. He had been my boyfriend one year ago, which, fortunately, didn’t exasperate Phoenix. Everyday, down here or up there, Doug was the one who haunted me. Daylight or twilight, his face was there. His small brown eyes, his light brown hair, his red jacket, his love for Great Britain. I remember him accusing me of trying to poison him, but now he seemed like a friend. Doug smiled at me and I looked away, afraid that he would see through me; that he would see that Iris and I were the same person.

I was so caught up in my trepidation that Mrs. Groven cleared her throat and ushered me to my seat. She could feel the tension rise between Phoenix and I and she coughed. Phoenix was talking to someone familiar. I felt a sneeze coming. It came out at over eighty miles per hour and it attracted his attention, but he blocked the female’s face. His whole face glowed with contentment and it tore my heart into two pieces.

The darkness came over me. I didn’t want my ire to be exposed in front of twenty college students and a teacher. Graciously, I inquired, “Mrs. Groven, may I please change my seat for today? I am feeling quite ill and I would prefer it if I was further away from the other students here, please.” Fighting the urge to be icy, I smiled amiably at her.

My face was completely frozen in the smile as she studied me for ten, seemingly endless moments. Finally, the torture ended and she nodded.

“Would you like to go to the nurse’s office?” she asked. Her face was clouded in pure worry, nothing else.

“Yes,” I verbalized brusquely. Before she had the attempt to stop me, I was already out the door, feeling my face turn carnation yet again. The two people who still stared in my direction even as Mrs. Grover began the lesson were Doug and Feenie.

Chapter 2

I didn’t know where the nurse’s office was either. Then again, I had no idea where anything was at Ivy University. As I passed the garbage can from before, I heard it playing the ludicrous Steel Samurai ringtone. If Feenie had a cell phone, it would probably have to match mine. I smiled at the thought and quickly dug the phone out of the garbage can. A janitor was adjacent, but he ignored me and continued with his sweeping around the campus.

The phone had begun to vibrate in my hands. Iris was calling me hours early. Could she really be this worried about our identity? I answered it on around the twentieth ring.

“Hello?” I whispered. My feet carried me along to an oak tree a few meters away. I felt secure and hidden underneath the shade of the forest green leaves sheltering over me.

“Dahlia, I was so worried!” Her voice came out as practically a scream. I could imagine that Iris had been crying since I had left.

“Calm down already,” I retorted impatiently. If anyone was listening to me they would know my true personality, but right now, I didn’t stress over it.

“I-I was worried about you!” Iris wailed, though the sobs stopped.

“I was gone for not even an hour, you idiotic sister!” My face was obviously flushed from shrieking into the phone.

Iris was silent for countless minutes. I was breathing heavily, hoping that she wouldn’t say anything else and hang up.

“I’m sorry,” she finally whispered. I heard a small sob in the background, probably her crying quietly again. “Why are you doing this?” There’s my answer of why she had called. I could detect melancholy and slight rage in her petite voice.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m the one asking questions.” My eyes scanned all around me, cautious of anyone approaching. I cringed as a shadow approached. “I have to go.”

“Wait!-”

I hung up on her, tossed the cell phone behind me, and walked towards the “stranger,” whom I immediately identified as the one I lost. Phoenix Wright was clad in his usual fluffy cerise sweater, a red heart stamped onto the middle with a distinctive yellow "P" in it. A matching carmine scarf hugged at his neck loosely, nearly flying off as he ran towards me, happiness bubbling outside of him with every step he took. Blue denim jeans snugged in long legs and his "P" midnight blue and cerulean sneakers took out like a reddened thumb. For once, he actually wasn't wearing a mask to hide his cough. Not even his daily dose of Coldkiller X was around, as I couldn't smell its wrathful stench.

Although seeing him made me feel my heart sew itself together, stitch by stitch, I felt an emotion that I hadn't felt in such a long while, culpability. To encourage him, I smiled lovingly and picked up the oyster and salmon lace umbrella. As he approached, I felt my eyebrows squirm continually from regular to a frown. His breath had the sordid aroma of flowers, which I detested so. My body nearly recoiled away from him on reflex and by the time I had controlled my nervous system to stop, he was already eyeing me with skepticism. I stared into his shining brown eyes, forcing my own to glitter back like the stars in a night sky. The suspicion drained from him at once.

He greeted me with an embrace. I vacillated for a few seconds, swaying from side to side, until finally Feenie let go.

"Dollie...?" His brows knitted together, developing a plan. Then he attempted to kiss me on the cheek but I pulled away, my arms accidentally pushing him two inches from me. "Did I do something wrong?" He was on the threshold of crying.

"Feenie, I haven't been feeling that good," I replied. Had he forgotten? "I was about to go to the nurse's office but the fresh air was my actual remedy, not some silly pills or whatnot. Can you please, please forgive me so?"

I saw hesitation in him like I had been so tentative only moments ago, but his didn't last as long. As he tried to embrace me again, his eyes were visibly cautious, fearful, and saddened. To comfort him, I hugged him back, but ever so loosely. Just in case a certain twin was eavesdropping and watching down upon the two of us. I nearly jumped at the sound of a certain Steel Samurai ring-tone, but Feenie was unfazed, as if he didn't hear it; the cell phone was practically a screaming girl behind us, waiting dejectedly for me to pick her up.

Feenie's buoyancy revived shortly after. "Do you wanna borrow some of my Coldkiller X? It really works, you know. The nurse, Ms. Anyie, she actually gave it to me. Not my doctor. Oh, wait...you already knew this, now didn't you, Dollie? I sound so senseless, so absurd, now don't I?"

I myself was beginning to get vexed. Accommodatingly I nodded with a thin smile that I felt slithering across my lips. "Actually, I was just about to head over to Nurse Anyie just now. Please excuse me, Feenie." I turned to dart away from him but a familiar umbrella landed in front of my face. My irises wavered around me, staring at both him and my lace parasol.

"I-I have a gift for you, so just, um, wait a sec, okay?" he stuttered, hem and haw sticking to his voice.

"...Okay then." A gift? Lovely. Just absolutely perfect. Sure, I wanted to spend as much time with him as I could, but I just couldn't shake the feeling that Iris was...watching us, envy clawing at her painfully. Her violet eyes wide with hurt and revenge. I precluded a giggle. Iris? Revenge? Those two words put together in a sentence was quite preposterous. The though left me as I turned to face Feenie.

"Close you eyes," he instructed firmly. I sighed, closed my eyes stubbornly, and listened without an ounce of patience to his shuffling hands in his Denim pockets. "Here." I was nearly speechless as he shoved an item into my waiting hands. "You can open your eyes now." I did exactly what I was told to, my heart racing with excitement, and as my eyes opened, the refreshing breezes welcoming them, I gasped in amazement and bliss. Sitting in my hands was the best gift I had ever received since I had been a child.

It was a clear glass bottle with a cork sealing air inside of it, like the kind collectors would try to assemble a small ship in it. Glued to the sides of the bottle were claret, raspberry, and ivory colored rose petals, not decaying from the lack of water yet, and they were arranged in numerous words. I read them out loud, much to Feenie's discomfiture: Dahlia, Love, Forever, Red, Cherish, and Heart. My eyes were swollen within two seconds after finishing the words. "There's one last word underneath," Feenie pointed out, his eyes shifting from side to side nervously. I glanced, flipping the bottle over, and read the final name with my breath dry: Phoenix. A tear rolled down my cheek. Phoenix, like the mythological bird that never dies, no matter what happens to it. They will always burn themselves into their own ashes, only to reappear and live for another five-hundred years. "Don't forget to open it, Dollie," Feenie teased playfully, taking a step forward. He swiftly took the bottle out of my shaky hands, just about ready to drop and break it, and popped open the cork. The sweet aroma of dahlias filled my mind with wonder. For once the scent smelt good to my nose.

Feenie gave me a present that had miraculously fit inside the fragile bottle. He watched with upmost delight as I slowly opened the box, colorfully decorated with matching claret dahlia petals this time. Underneath the layers of wrapping was the most beautiful and small glass sculpture I had ever seen. It was clear but had vivid color and I was curious to know how they had done that without breaking it. The sculpture was of a phoenix, the legendary bird of fire, spreading its magnificent wings, ready to hover in the sky, guarding over the animals below. Next to the phoenix was a glass bouqet of dahlias; inside of them were every color someone could imagine. All the colors of the spectral danced as I turned it into the sunlight, rays of warmth glittering and reflecting off of the sculpture. The phoenix's wings were vividly colored in with the hues of fire, red, orange, yellow, even those rare ones such as purple and green. In the phoenix's front plummage and the single red dahlia in the middle of the bouqet were two noticeable hearts that seem to glow with passion.

"The bottle stands for our love," Feenie murmured against my ear. "I'm the phoenix and you're the dahlia. Inseparable for all eternity."

"Bottled love," I repeated in a whisper. The tears ran down my cheeks endlessly, dropping down onto the exquisite glass, making it possibly even more beautiful than it already had been. "Thank you...I love you very much, Feenie."