The Flower.

She was beautiful, she really was. She bloomed with a passion that made her stand out from the rest. It didn’t take long for someone to notice. Soon, she was picked from the vein of life and innocence and was forced to survive in her new environment. Of course, she fought and continued to bloom, just like the keeper hoped she would. But without the proper nutrients from the keeper, she began to tire. Some of her pedals began to welt, and the keeper became frustrated. The keeper mishandled the health of the flower and pulled away any part of the flower that took away from the beauty the keeper once loved. Soon, the keeper gave up and let the flower die slowly in the vase. All the whole, the poor flower never understood why her beauty had caused her such an ugly death. Why fight so hard to be what the keeper loved, only to be left alone to die in hatred? On her last day, the keeper came to throw the flower away but, in that moment something changed inside the keeper. A sudden compassion lined with guilt as the keeper looked at the mere skeleton left of the flower. “You were one of the most beautiful flowers I’ve ever picked. I should have tried harder to save you.”

Written by: You