Of Life, Death, and Lilies

An interesting take on grief, loss of childlikeness, and the full circle unity of sadness. It is the story of Adam Vonn's life- one filled with love, loss, and lilies.

Of Life, Death, and Lilies

Walking towards the lake with his candle and cup in hand, Adam Vonn’s cheeks were covered by the salty residue of tears. Walking down the dead grass-covered hill that sloped towards the water, Adam Vonn bit his lip and tried to ignore everything that was going wrong in his life. Walking to the lake’s bank, Adam Vonn joined the crowd of black-clad people in the funeral procession.  

He was in an inky-black, button-down shirt, black pants, a belt, and shoes. Out of place with his current attire, his stark blond hair quivered in the winds that were gaining speed. Adam blinked his bright blue eyes against the sharp gusts of wind.

He could hear bits and pieces of the pastor’s speech. Adam could make out the man saying, “... for the terrible loss of his mother, Mrs. Margret Vonn,” and “... and in remembrance of her, we shall release these candles onto the lake that she so much loved.” The ten-year-old boy wrinkled his small nose and closed his eyes to prevent the tears from breaching his tightened eyelids. Throughout the day, his head had been filled with thoughts and memories of a better, older time.

Oh, his mother! All the adults had told him she was going to be fine. All of them had explained to him how it was a small cold, and that his mother would recover. All of the adults had lied. A month after being struck with the Yellow Fever along with all of Philadelphia, Adam’s mother, Margret Vonn, had been told she would not live through it.

After returning from those morbid thoughts to the current time, he could hear the last bit of what the preacher was saying. As instructed by the man, Adam set his lit candle into a small cup. Then at the preacher’s command, he crouched by the water’s edge and released his cup into the lake.

He got up from his low position and got lost in his thoughts again as he gazed upon the lake. Memories of walking around this lake as a young child with his mother filled his mind. He remembered walking out to the water's edge with his mom and scattering lily seeds into the water.  

Returning to reality, Adam watched the candles as they floated in the lake. With the growing wind acting as a guide, the floating cups drifted to the clump of lilies, who’s seedlings had been in his memories. Those beautiful flowers he had planted with his mother had finally grown to full size. 

After his mother had died from the fever, all of the things she’d touched while she’d been sick had been required to be burned. They couldn’t allow anyone else to get sick from those. So, the only physical representation left of Adam’s mother was the lilies in the lake.

The gusts of wind that was now howling were now forcefully directing the candles towards the general direction of the lilies. Confused, onlookers watched as the herd of lit candles in cups drifted into and mingled with the lilies. With one particularly strong gust of wind, a cup tipped over onto the accumulation of flowers.  

Adam’s time perception slowed. The tip of the candle flame connected with the white petal mounted on the dark green pad. In the quivering moment before catching, the immaculate, alabaster, and silky petals stood in a stolen moment in which the pure innocence of the soft foliole permeated in that moment. That pure lily was presented with a fiery death as the lit tip of the candle transferred to the flower. The once angel-white petals curled into itself and shriveled as black ash started to replace the soft plant. Due to the density of the flowers, once the first one had gone up in a short, blazing tower, the flames spread to the surrounding lilies. The efflorescence’s lost distinction as the fire took them all. A sickly, sulfurous smell overtook Adam’s senses. He tasted bits of ash. He heard the crackle of the flame as it murdered the remaining images of floral innocence. The lilies became a funeral pyre for Margret Vonn, and the last proof that she ever lived was removed the earth. The one, sacred remnant of her memory to her son gave into the destruction of the cruel conflagrations.

As the smoke from the unintended pyre stretched up the expanse of the blue vault, a single tear flowed down Adam’s ruddy cheek. As it left his eye and made a path down to his chin and stayed quivering there, something broke inside of him. The childlike state that he had grown up with, like his curiosity, truth-default, innocence, and positivity, left him as the tear streamed down from his eye. It had left his mind, but it still stood there, clinging to him in a struggle to remain part of him. But, gravity prevailed. The tear along with all of the qualities of a child that it carried, left Adam, never to return.  

A hard resolve spread over the boy’s face, and his eyes turned into cold stones, never to bear another drop of saline water.  

And thus was the child and lilies.

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Seventeen years later, and he still had the same hard resolve in his face and cold stones for eyes. He hadn’t changed much; but now his jaw had more distinction, his hair had more order, and his arms bulged with the reward of many years of hard labor. Although, a new factor to the man was a slight bulge by his right thigh, where a long knife lay hidden. It had become a necessary precaution ever since he joined the Illicitus Venalitii. Roughly, it translated into “contraband dealers.”

After loading up a wagon with the newest shipment of goods, he had gone on a stroll down the city roads, his pockets clinking and sagging with coins. He followed the customary path that would have led him to his favorite pub, where he would probably end up spending all of his newly earned salary. Drowning his emotionless life with happiness and ease reared by drink occupied his free time.

Adam’s walk to the pub should have been quick, but a curious sight impeded his journey. Standing by the road, was a girl who looked anywhere from six to eight. She was draped in a once-nice dress, for now, splashes of mud and grime dominated the dull red color that had been its original shade. Her blond hair was a mess, filled with knots and the occasional leaf. Her face was red. She stood there, bawling.

Screaming to the open air, she said, “They’re gone! Mommy, daddy… Gone! Gone, gone, gone, gone… Why did you leave me?”

Her eyes had acquired a sort of red tinge from her insane grief. Adam, not being able to deny this child assistance or at least understanding of the cold truth of death, walked over to her and bent down to ask her what was wrong.

“They’re gone,” she persisted. “Gone, gone, gone, gone…”

In a stupor, she drew something from her pocket. It was crumpled, but Adam could still tell what it was: a lily. All of its petals were either bent or missing, but it still had its white hue.

“Mommy used to say this looked pretty in my hair,” the girl said. A hint of madness was creeping into her tone. “I had in it my hair when she left. She told me it looked pretty. It looked pretty. She said that when it was in my hair. She’s gone. She can’t say it looks pretty in my hair anymore. I have it. She won’t tell me it looks pretty. She’s gone… Why can’t she say it looks pretty anymore? She’s gone… never again will she... ”

It all struck Adam at once. The girl was similar to him when he was younger. He had lost his mother at a young age. She had lost her mother at a young age. His had mother loved lilies. Her mother had loved lilies. However, there was one difference. She had kept the lily given to her by her mother, but his lilies from his mother had burned. She had kept her childlike-state, even though he had lost his. She still had her lily. It needed to stay that way.

Adam thought back to how it was like growing up with no parents. Stealing for food, running from childcare services, starving on the side of the street, getting half-frozen in winter… No, that could not happen to her. She still had a lily. She mustn’t be forced to grow up as fast as he did.

Adam slowly reached down to grab the flower from the girl’s hands. At first, she resisted, but once she realized that his intent was not ill, the girl loosened her grip on the lily. With delicate fingers, he held it. Getting on his knees, he inserted the stem of the flower into the girl’s disheveled hair.

Smiling softly, he said, “It looks pretty.”

The girl threw herself into his arms and wept. They stayed in that position for a long time. In those moments, like a fire embracing ice, Adam’s hard resolve melted. The stones that had become his eyes were imbibed by color once more. The transformation was everything. His long-gone curiosity, truth-default, innocence, and positivity finally returned to him. With the child in his arms, he was complete. All of his missing parts were filled with pure love for the child.  

And thus was the man and lilies.

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The last two years of Adam Vonn’s life had been the best he’d ever lived. In those years of pure exuberance, many things had happened. Directly after meeting the girl, he, with the child’s allowance, of course, had taken her in as his daughter. The girl’s name ironically was Lily. With all of his money he had earned from the smuggling business, he had had enough money to purchase a small house by a lake for the two of them.

At the lake, Adam would go on walks with Lily, and she would always have her namesake flower mounted in her hair. She was beautiful. After recovering from her time on the streets, she had properly bathed and washed her hair. Her new father had also bought her a new red dress, similar to her old one but this one lacking stains.

The first thing Adam had done after moving into the lake house was planting a plethora of lilies. The house was close to the lake, only about thirty feet separated them. By the bank, was a wooden bench that he had built with his own two hands. He would sit there with his daughter and watch the sunrise and sunset while it was the day, and count the stars while it was the night.

The only bump in the road that was his fatherhood was the physical state of his daughter. A month ago, she had been diagnosed with fever. It was a hopeless battle to fight. Everyday she had been deteriorating. Lily was trying to remain positive, but Adam could tell that she was losing her composure. She would still go on walks with him, trying to convince him that she was fine. 

But, she wasn’t the sole person in their house who’s physical state was in decline. Every week, Adam would make a purchase of medicine for the increasingly worse fever. Those payments for the medicine, however, came at a price. Its extremely high price was forcing him to sacrifice other things that he would usually buy for himself. The primary thing Adam denied himself while paying for the pharmaceutical was food. For the past month, Adam had not eaten. He had been losing his ability to go on walks, but he would still prioritize his lovely daughter. The father refused to allow Lily to realize that he was starving himself for her. Adam would never remove his shirt to show his malnourished form and only pretend to eat. When he did that, in reality, he was breaking off pieces and storing it later for Lily’s consumption. The poor girl, despite her medicine, was past the apex of the hill of her life and was starting down the slope; she would reach the bottom soon.

A month of no food was starting to affect every aspect of his life. He could no longer walk without assistance or think clearly. His mind was seeming to work at a snail’s pace. Adam could no longer do simple arithmetic without asking Lily. She would ask him a question and he wouldn’t realize she had said it. Lily was in no better state than Adam, though. They were equally unable to do simple tasks.

One morning, he felt her forehead, looked into her eyes, and realized her end was near. She, bedridden, asked to see the lake. So, both of them stumbled out of the house by leaning on each other. Finally, after an eternity of walking, father and daughter reached the wooden bench and collapsed onto it.

With the Lily in his lap, he pulled her close and tried to warm her up from the constant cold she complained about. They sat there, in a close embrace for a long time, but neither of them, with their present state of mind, could discern the passage of time. Before he knew it, the sun was beginning to become level with the horizon.

Adam could tell the girl’s heartbeat was slowing. He knew it wasn’t because she was sleeping. He felt his body slowing down as well. In the bright light from the sunset, the entire lake was illuminated, except for the clump of lilies that had grown. A tree’s branches shielded them from the dying sun’s rays. Her heartbeat slowed further. Lily sighed deeply. Another beat. Another breath. Another beat. No breath followed. When the final beat in her heart pulsed, the sun opened up upon the lilies, as if the beat was like a stroke on a drum initiating. The dying sun’s rays shown on the lilies of the dying girl.

Adam spoke her name into the evening, clutching tightly on to his daughter. She didn’t respond. He said it again. It had lost its meaning. He gazed once more at the lilies on the lake. This time, the lilies that reminded him of the person he had lost were not lit by fires but by sunlight. A single tear flowed down his cheek. The sun was almost finished crossing the horizon and ushering the night in. He struggled to remain awake from sleep he would not wake from. He fought with all his might to force his eyelids open. He must remember Lily. He must not forget the lilies they had planted. She loved the flowers. They had looked so pretty in her hair.  

Adam’s understanding of the difference between imagination and reality was leaving him. Hunger now bit as equally at his mind than as at his stomach. The sun’s edge barely protruded from the edge of the world. The edge of the world. The world was ending. When the sun sets, the world would end. He would end. Everything would end. The lilies would end. No, the lilies cannot die; they mustn’t die. Lily… where was Lily? She mustn’t die. Adam felt his daughter in his embrace. No, she can’t be dead. They can count stars. Count stars. Count. But, he can’t count. No, he must ask her to count. Lily. The end of the world. The end of all. His vision blurred. Not the end of the lilies. They can’t go. His mother. He must remember her by the lilies. Lily. Where was Lily? He couldn’t see anything now. He couldn’t see the lilies. Adam became frantic. Where are the lilies? Lilies looked pretty in Lily’s hair. Where was she? He imagined the smell of sulfur. Not the fires. No fire. The lilies cannot burn. Lily was burning. Where was Lily? She was burning. Burning in the sunset. The lilies were burning in the sunset. His mother. Sickness. She and Lily died of sickness. Was he sick? He can’t be sick. He needed to watch the lilies.

He soon lost his sense of touch. His sense of smell soon followed. He couldn’t do anything. He must be dreaming. He will wake up and see his mother and Lily. See the lilies. See. Smell. Touch. Taste. Be. Exist. Live. Lilies. Life. Death. Fire. Lilies. Lily. Mom. Lake. Sun.

But then his mentality changed with the time of day. Night arrived. Then, a beat of a drum. No, was it a heart? No, a drum. Drums. Entering him into the morning. He had been dreaming. He’s waking up now. One final beat of the drum. One final breath. Awake.

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And thus was the death of child and man, but through it all were the lilies.

The lilies for the living.

The lilies for the dead. 

The lilies for the sick.

The lilies for the dreamers.

The lilies for the sleeping.

The lilies for the awakened.

The lilies for the drummers.

The lilies for the sun.

The lilies for Mom.

The lilies for Lily.

The lilies for Adam Vonn.

Author's Note

I did this for a high school freshmen assignment, but please address and criticize as if it were college-level/work-level.