|Posted by Blog Of A Storyteller on August 3, 2019 at 4:10 PM|
The day was about to begin so Tiffany rushed out of her backdoor in a hurry to sit in the garden behind her house and watch the sunrise. She’d carried a thin blanket out with her and spread it on top of the ground not wanting to dirty her beautiful light pink dress when she sat down. The flowers stood quite tall, taller than the day before, so tall that petunias, pansies and marigolds were all that she could see besides the sky above her. She laid back and watched the blazing orange sun on its way up to the sky, the way the petals mirrored its journey was fascinating to say the least. Not to mention how relaxing it was to sit in the midst of their sweet aroma. She preferred that much more than the smell of scotch and cigars she inhaled all day.
With a white satin gloved hand, she grabbed her frilly lace collar, bringing it closer to her nose to take a whiff. A pleasant smile graced her face, that awful odor was gone. There was nothing left in the air besides the scent of petunias, pansies and marigolds now.
Tiffany’s garden wasn’t your typical garden, she’d dug up the soil before planting the seeds and watering them just like any other person would. But they’d come into full bloom rather quickly, it had only taken two days and that’s when she’d realized that they were much more than flowers. Today was their third day and they were even taller now, she blinked a few times as gentle rain dropped from the sky. It had a cold sting to it but she stayed right where she was since the sun wasn’t done rising yet. Tiffany admired the rains diamond sparkle against the rising sun as it fell more steadily sticking to their petals and soaking her beautiful pink dress. The raindrops expressed an iridescent glow as the water rested on the flowers for a moment before dripping onto the ground. The April shower didn’t last long and the earth sucked it up quickly so what was once firm dirt was now soft mud. The flowers tugged on her soul and like a magnet to metal she was unexplainably drawn to them. She found herself abandoning her normal routine of staying in her room trying to remain hidden. At times she even resorted to locking herself inside of her closet all day. That’s what she’d do in hopes that he couldn’t find her, but he always did, and as strange as it seemed she felt that the garden helped her feel better. Tiffany knew it allowed her to see something she should have recognized a long time ago . . . that he needed to be stopped.
Tiffany’s ambiance was finally interrupted by him calling out to her from the backdoor. Life gradually came back into focus and the sun had finished rising, now it sat in its proper place above her. The Sun had chased away the rain and the pink and red cotton clouds and brightened everything it touched. Tiffany’s eyes were attached to the peaceful pale blue sky as she breathed in one last breath of fresh air and felt it caress her down to the bone. She collected herself in preparation of what was to come then she obediently jumped up and rung her drenched blanket out as best she could before rushing back into her home.
When she returned to the garden later that night various shades of red stained her clothing, splatters of crimson, drops of scarlet and smudges of auburn. Lines of ruby liquid dripped off her white patent leather stilettoes and absorbed into the thirsty earth with every step. She dragged her heels exhaustedly through the thick dirt before dropping to her knees and marveling at what suddenly appeared. There was a light within the flowers that made them glisten and her chestnut eyes never looked away from the spectacular show it began to put on. She tried not to blink, not wanting to miss their yellow and purple sparkle as it grew bigger, brighter, illuminating its surroundings while an overwhelming feeling of joy saturated her soul.
Her wispy hair chased after the familiar breeze of spring while she cautiously crawled over to a marigold. Tiffany reached out a shaken and torn gloved hand, while a weary smile spread across her face. She sat there stroking its glistening petals and allowing their sweet aroma to embrace her senses. Soft lights miraculously appeared above the flowers, three phosphorescent balls of purple, yellow and green danced against the darkness. Her eyes followed them into the sky making her oblivious to the flashing red and blue police lights approaching in the distance. Even though the sounds of their sirens got louder with every breath that she took she was too impressed with the balls of lights to care. They suddenly flew directly in front of her face, twirling around her head like a crown then gently lifting strands of her onyx curls before letting them fall again.
Tiffany’s eyes popped open with overflowing amazement when she noticed tiny white butterflies landing on her shoulders one by one. She giggled at the little fluttery creatures at first then almost instinctively her eyes darted back to the flowers as they all began to shake as if a furious wind had blown through. Except there was no breeze, the air was still… silent. It was so quiet that she was able to make out the sounds of men’s voices in her home. They were talking amongst each other in a low serious tone. Her curiosity made her look into the dark familiar windows where she saw vertical and horizontal beams of bright white lights. They moved around slowly, seeming to search every corner of the old Victorian. This is the end they’ll surely find me soon enough Tiffany thought as she shook her head and laid on the cool dirt. The earth comforted her as she brought her attention back to the enchanted circles that danced around her a few more times before completely vanishing.
In the pitch black of night, a solitary petal burned like a floating ember as it sank down to the earth. She lay there in her enchanted Shangri-La and waited for the police to drag her away. Oblivious to her dress, which had turned into a cloak of white ruffles, butterflies from head to toe.
The police walked out the back door of Tiffany’s house still searching with their flashlights. One of them called out for the others in a deep voice that pierced the night’s silence. All the men hurried to the far end of the yard combining their lights with the spot light that already shined on the lively flower bed. There underneath the cover of petunias, pansies and marigolds lay a satin glove, a pair of stilettoes and a pink blood stained dress. They were partially buried in the rich black soil and they were the only things that the earth left behind when it took her.
Categories: Short Stories