Dahlia Ito // D12 // CBR1

I once saw a tree here in Twelve, one that demanded attention as an object of beauty surrounded by despairing, miserable air. Clouds of pink floating in permanence between twisted branches, numerous petals fluttering about in the gloominess and making it more...bearable, even for just a moment.

I thought it was pretty as I walked away from it with a metal bowl of soup in my hands, small loaves of bread floating about in the seasoned, tangy liquid as steam curled into the air from it--but shortly after I turned back to stare in front of me did I realize what it truly represented in my world.

My own heart is the wood carrying the abundant bundles of flowers, each piece of the whole mass falling a representation of myself. One falls, mom and dad won't say a damn thing to me. Two, now Heathen acts like I'm a stranger or an unwanted houseguest. Three, Shore's joined them in nothing but agonizing silence, four and they took my own goddamn twin sister with me--

Their secrets cannot be that viscous, not worth thick black ink or burning black tar, but if I'm gonna be the only one out of the loop then so be it. I'll act like they aren't my blood, since they won't act like I'm a part of this family who deserves to know the truth. If they want to pluck away at my welfare, I'll let myself have a say in theirs too.

Five, they all expect me to nourish them.

Secretly, from this point forward, the power of this duty sees me earn more helpings than they.

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