pansies and thorns | {polaris/rosemary}
Jul 7, 2017 18:40:50 GMT -5
Post by umber vivuus 12b 🥀 [dars] on Jul 7, 2017 18:40:50 GMT -5
Bubblegum pop, and Mable was standing above me in my flower garden. Taller than me, prettier.
Better.
Mable, Emerald, and Rosemary. Three sisters with three different heartbeats, but only one of them beat differently.
Three guesses which one.
"How ya holding up?" Mable asked, plopping down next to me. I wiped dirt from my elbows. "Great, you?" She popped her bubblegum again. I wish I had some bubblegum.
"You know what I mean." I hadn't even realized it, but I was sitting on the exact spot we had buried our secrets with the close of winter in the ides of March.
"I don't blame you, if that's what you mean."
Mable scoffed, swallowed some spit. "How could you not? I killed him. End of story."
"He was a bad man, though."
"Most of them are, yeah."
I hopped up from the spot in which I sat, leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.
("I could be like you, Sissy."
"You're only good at getting hurt.")
"You're only good at getting hurt.")
"Well, he helped the pansies grow, so."
With that, I left. Closed the gate behind me— couldn't have any hungry rabbits or curious passers taking a peak at what was inside. I wore a white dress and no shoes, and by many people's definition, I probably did not seem entirely sane. That, however, was always my precise goal. My blonde hair was loose, flowing behind me as I walked, dancing in the sunlight the tree tops didn't drink up. Pines surrounded me, whispering nature's secrets and I whistled along to the rhythms of the wind.
("Sing me a song, Rosie.")
Whistle to hum, hum to song. I was singing the song my mother used to put us to sleep with when I noticed the boy in the distance, back to me, frozen. Instinctively, I hid. Momma had warned me countless times about venturing too far into the forests— "There are places without boundaries, Rosie. There are places we aren't supposed to enter."
But this boy did not wear white, and he did not hold any weapons, and he was also quite adorable. I watched from behind the trunk of the tree, until my curiosity got the best of me and I sprinted to another one, a little closer, and then another, and another, until he was so close that, if I tried, I could have gotten to him in only a couple of seconds.
Cigarette smoke.
Mabel's type of boy.
"Those are bad for you," I said with a huff, stepping out into the open.
"Worse for the environment, though."