The first day was the easiest. There were relatively good moments, and there were very bad moments, but the very bad moments seemed to come less frequently as time passed.
Sleeping with the stars for sentries seemed to keep the nightmares at bay and full nights of rest meant mornings where it didn't hurt to unroll from the ball she'd made with her sleeping bag on the ground. Grass in her hair was never a bother and some days she would sit for a few hours, brown eyes unfocused, and pick the bits out of her dark curls before brushing it smooth and glossy. It didn't really matter to anything if her hair was brushed or not, but Ida found it soothing and later, the feel of being groomed made work more enjoyable... if only because stray strands didn't keep falling into her work.
Wandering had lost its appeal and Ida wanted something more productive to do than staring at old structures and plant technology crumbling to dust while memories teased at her waking mind. The garden she had started so long ago was a logical starting point and one morning she picked up a hoe and a hand shovel and set to work. The sheer size of the 'conservatory', as she had deemed it in her mind, was daunting, but really... what else did she have to do that was so pressing? Coming to Ida was about time... about choosing to use it or waste it as she saw fit.
Decisions about what she wanted and what she didn't were getting easier to make, less confusing and stressful. She couldn't hurt any one here, couldn't neglect anyone, so in the end whatever choice she made was ultimately the right one for her. Confidence leaked in slowly, filling her with a sense of light and warmth in her chest. She got to decide what to put in the bed she had just tilled and what pattern to plant it in. She got to decide how many she worked on and how fast and if she decided to take a nap in the middle of the day? There was no one to say anything about it.
And, at the end of the day when she looked back over the work that had been done... she couldn't shrug off the accomplishment as any one's but her own. She had done all of the work, she had made the choices that led to a beautiful bed of flowers and leafy plants. If it was good... it was because of her and no one else. She wasn't used to that feeling. Could someone else have done it better, faster, more beautiful? Probably. But this planet belonged to her and it was her duty to care for it.
Hard work throughout the day meant sleep came easier and deeper, doing more to stave off the bad dreams. Being rested meant more relaxed and being more relaxed... meant the moments of reliving horrible things did not happen as often either. All around, being on Ida was having the effect she had been counting on, as though the planet itself absorbed the negative emotions and gave her back peace.
Sitting on her knees beside one of the garden beds, Ida worked her slender fingers into the loose soil for no more reason than because it felt good. She broke up a couple of clumps as she raked her fingers through it and then the young woman reached behind her to grab the packet of seeds she had brought with her. 'Lily-of-the-Valley' read the packaging. Humility, chastity, sweetness, purity, "The return of happiness". She thought as she pressed each seed into the rich soil. Idly, Ida wondered what color the flowers would bloom. Traditionally, this lily was white, but on the asteroid one never quite knew what color or pattern would show. She had newly blooming daisies that were a rich mauve, of all colors... there was no telling, really.
I look forward to finding out. Maybe it will change your meaning, the way the color of a rose determines its message. But then again, maybe not... and no one would know it but me anyway. A small smile curved over Ida's lips as she let soil trickle away between her fingers. I could give it a new meaning and then it would be like a secret only I knew... me and whomever I shared it with. A little secret just for us.
A rich chuckle rolled from her throat as she pressed the soil down, scooting over a few feet so she could start the process over again.
Word Count: 771
