A flower’s divorce

This story hints at the presence of an abusive relationship. If you or someone you know is experiencing or has experienced the harm from a significant other, reach out. I know it may not be the easiest option and you may think that it will do more harm than good, but it is worth it.

The National Domestic abuse hotline: 800-799-7233


A story from a flower’s point of view:

I have moved many times in my lifetime, but I will forever miss my home where I resided with my hundreds of friends. The luminating sun I woke up to every morning with dew on my limbs.

Now I’m lying in the hands of an upset man whom I don’t even know. This odd creature did not even take the time to admire my beauty. Suddenly I get tossed into a bag made of plastic and I wonder where I’m heading now, I don’t think it will be anything like home.

The smell of gasoline overcomes me as I inhale the air, my memories flash back to me. A massive, yellow machine destroying my home, I begin to be consumed with agony.

Glimpses of my past are flashing through my head as I try to foresee my future.

In the spur of the moment, I am back to being grasped by the hands of this unknown man. I don’t feel any type of comfort, only fear and hollowness. He begins to start walking and our speed is rapid, to the point I feel some of my limbs flying off from the wind.

We come to a halt, the hand he is holding me with is beginning to drip and I’m slightly shaking due to his whole body’s anxiety.

I then hear his frantic knocking on the wooden door. I almost get blown away by the gust of air that comes from the door being flown open.

“What are you doing here”, this comes from an ethereal looking woman.

The man then holds me up, “please lets just talk.”

A few seconds later I am passed over to the woman, who also did not appreciate my charming looks. The silence is immediately broken with incessant shouting.

Their chatter does not interest me, I long to be listening to the buzzing bees that lived in my home. I stare out into my surroundings and the mundane walls look nothing like the blue sky I’m used to.

The woman begins to put me in a trap that is filled with water. My personal space is being taken away from me, I do not like this new life I have been given.

I wish I could go back to where I once was. I am being confined and shaped into something I do not wish to be.

What is my purpose in the arms of these humans, why do they need me? They haven’t even admired me or smelled my scent that I love to give off. That is what I’m used to, what is so different this time?

I do not feel loved and welcome in this new place that I think I should be beginning to call home.

The man begins to come towards my vicinity, he looks riled up about something and I wish I knew what. All I can feel is anticipation because in this place I feel clueless.

A loud crashing sound shakes the room as my cage shatters. I am free again, no glass cage, no plastic, no hands squeezing me tight.

That is all I can think about until I see drops of red. At first, I believed it to be the color of my skin dripping off, but how?

I soon learn that it is not dripping from my skin but, from the skin of the woman I had just met. I have been beaten to the ground with her and we are both etched with fear.

In these moments all I want is to be able to lie back at home, not on this cold tile floor. I wish to be in the field of all my friends, resting in the sun. That is a place where we admired each-others beauty.

These people do not see the beauty I hold, which I had tried to give them. I wished I was able to bring them some peace.

I believe that was my purpose here, to bring two people together.

I failed, instead I had destroyed one to the ground. What is life meant for if to not bring others joy. Even to those not from the same home as the one I used to call mine.

Now my ending home has become next to this woman whom I could not save, even though I had tried to. As the woman begins to rise, she takes me with her.

Why has someone that I was not able to protect now protecting me?