Scene 15

Humming’s of a shrill voice start to play if ever getting off-topic. Not as quiet as one might think, however, if encountered with the same disrespect. Feeling silenced I did but did not dare to challenge for mothers know best, I guess. Instead, I lead myself away and down the porch steps to a field perfectly preserved, unharmed by the spray and intact for anyone wanting to take advantage. Barefoot and feeling the crunch under my feet, never bleeding despite my soul lately, I spot something marvelous—a bright purple flower I have never seen.

Getting closer, it starts to change. No… morph as if my eyes are deceiving me. Yellow spots I did not notice before, start to appear and whirl. I had a strong urge to share the beauty, but I could never get close to it. With every step closer, it kept changing and becoming further away in my eyes. Was it a sign not to share? Does this flower wish to never be seen by the broader spectrum of the universe? Mayhap, so I spoke aloud, “Fine! Your beauty is only for me and me alone. I vow to protect what secrets you hold.” With the force of every energy, it appeared at my feet untouched and unplucked.

My trickery is your own fool!

Clasping my hands around the stem to bring back a bit of brightness to the sour taste I had left, that very same force pushed my fingers slightly as if to be pleading with me.
The new whispers that had been placed in my head, were not guilt like what she had wanted me to feel. It was laughter and encouragement to keep thinking. The survival of this entity relied on me keeping to my word and I didn’t want to betray that; its beauty came from being unique and living with its own purpose to keep the peace. I bent over until the petals grazed the tip of my nose, I took a deep breath and said, “thank you.” I held power all along and being granted with such care, despite my own convictions of evil, a second chance to smell the flower made me realize it—the soft scent centered me.

Only I was meant for this moment; I stayed awhile. Lucky indeed, even luckier that I could listen and be reminded that nothing overcomes the pure beauty of nature. Looking out over the grass field, my bare feet, the talk was only noticed if you had nothing to say, mother proved that for she was speaking on nothing except nonsense.

Never wishing to be evil again, moving forward, only kindness will flood my heart. I grinned and layed down in this perfect dream. Now I know, such things build up over a long period of time. The lack of confidence and any sliver of hope being squashed and silenced by those with nothing to say, keep the ego in danger until eventually selfishness prevails. I picture the kindness one could bring to a soul experiencing grief and vanity and how such simple actions could change the course of someone’s history. Or multiple if believing in the butterfly effect. But yet, nothing changes.

Always wanting what isn’t allowed; I had never noticed the karma of such actions. Anything to get away from my existence and learning nothing on top of survival mode, made me never want to see the greed for what she is: I was following in those footsteps subconsciously. Sitting in this field had changed me and only in the brief moment when I was listening. Clear as day, the reality is different, and I thought it was normal. All I ever noticed over and over was the self-righteous always coming out and planting a flag where they claimed. I smelled the flower once more and appreciated the power it gave. Wisdom it seemed, and we never spoke a word.

Hearing a door slam and a quick bark from the very someone who damages all it touches; I look around to see mother peering out over the vast valley. I raised my hand out of the handful of green and waved. Marching down the steps and towards my sanctuary, the flower I once apologized for started to fade, but this time it wasn’t because of me.
I heard over the gravel I once padded across, big rumbles of attitude. I knew she did not inherit the same kindness in the end, and the flower knew as well. Once on top of me I started to speak back because I wanted to stick to my truth, but the guidelines were already established. I just waited until her nonsense was over. Afterwards, she turned on her heels and went back the same way, never wavering away from it. I wondered if she would be so cliché if not for her status.

The flower came back in no time of her disappearance. Settling next to a truth-teller of no words, I smiled and thanked the flower once more. Was this faith? No, for faith is never about seeing. This was something mightier; a spirit, a calm center of a newfound energy one can only see if given the gift of sight. Nothing to hail, no book to read from—I bask in the new wave of praying to the world around us. I felt peace, as this world should be by now but isn’t. No one will see as I am. Being different makes us more like a collective, but given too much, we only separate from our own truths of the world and from each other.

The flower knows not of the evil brewing around but only feels when things could be bad. I stood, looking around, the colors have changed as well. Everything is so much brighter than when everyone else was here. I stare up at the sky, pleased, then I turn and walk back towards the house. If I had stayed dazed, would I have seen a harsher outcome once going inside? Or is the harsher outcome of waking up and realizing nothing has changed? I knew one thing for certain, I shall carry on navigating on my tip toes but be brutally outspoken if it goes too far.