Inktober 2022
Oct. 6: Bouquet

« Hey Amelia! » A voice yelled from across the office.

« Yes? » I answered quickly while still keeping my eyes peeled on the report on my computer screen.

« Someone sent you something through company mail again! You should come take a look. » I looked up, seeing a reception lady pointing at something big on the counter. After making sure my document was saved, I made my way over, ignoring the gazes of my other coworkers grazing over me as I passed, and got to the front desk.

I was greeted by the three reception ladies looking at me with three different expressions, being neutral, concerned and a knowing smile, as well as a huge bouquet. It was beautifully made, an extravagant show of roses and camellias with a primrose in its center, ribbons and pearls all over the wrapping. A small typed message stuck out from the bouquet, reading the usual few words. « To my loveliest Amelia. »

« How romantic Amelia! I’m so jealous of you! » Susan, the gossipy lady with a cunning smile, sighed dramatically, holding her cheek with a round hand. « Flowers, everyday, like these ones no less!— »

« Isn’t this way too much? » Lana, the youngest reception lady and also the one with a look of concern mixed with disdain plastered on her face, asked sternly, poking one of the bloody red roses with her black fingernails. « This just screams possessiveness and obsession— »

« I didn’t even know they made bouquets this big. » The last reception lady spoke too, a short comment before turning to her screen once again. « Same as usual, just sent by delivery straight from the flower shop. »

I stared at the bouquet, making no move to touch it (and I doubt I could even carry it anyways). As Susan and Lana started their near daily debate on wether this was cute or creepy, I grabbed my phone and took a picture of this bouquet, sending it to my best friend and siblings who knew about the whole daily-romantic-bouquet-by-a-mystery-sender thing.

After that, I told the three ladies to please take care of it as usual before turning back towards to my seat. The trio of women agreed, starting to pick apart the flowers to put them into different vases everywhere over the office, throwing the card and wrappings.

As I tried to wrap my mind over that ridiculous bouquet and how I could try to find who did this, I suddenly heard a yelp from the reception desk. I turned around, seeing the three ladies with the heads bent downwards, looking into the bouquet. Their heads then raised in synch and they were all wearing a similar expression for once; one of panic.

I rushed over and peered into the bouquet myself and felt a shiver crawl up my back. There was a photograph stuck deep in the bouquet of me walking towards my car as I left for work this morning. In a sickening red ink was written in wobbly writing; « I’ll be waiting for you to get home. ❤︎ »

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