Diphylleia | Teen Ink

Diphylleia

December 9, 2019
By Air-row BRONZE, Jeffersonton, Virginia
Air-row BRONZE, Jeffersonton, Virginia
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

“Terrence~ Come on, dear, wake up!” a very warm, gentle voice cooed in the young Meadow Elf’s ear. “Today is the day I take you with me to examine all sorts of exotic species of flowers! Aren’t you excited?”

Underneath his thick woolen blanket, Terrence turned onto his side and completely ignored his mother’s enthusiastic calls. He was never fond of waking up early, and he was even more irritated by it on those mornings when she nagged at him.

“Aw, come on, Terrence. I know you’re under there and I know you’re up!” Once again, her son fidgeted under his blanket, but refused to get up. Laughing to herself, she shook her head in disbelief. “My, my, you are one stubborn little elf! I knew you took after your father, but I didn’t know you had his attitude, too!” Grinning brightly, she sat down at the edge of the bed. “Now Terrence, you know I’m not going to leave you be until you get up.” Gently grabbing the end of his soft white blanket, she added, “If you don’t get up on your own, I know how to make you!” When her threat elicited nothing more than an aggravated groan from her son, she clutched the blanket in her hands and yanked it off.

This time, Terrence shot upright, desperately trying to retrieve his blanket from his mother’s arms. “That’s not fair,” he whined, his mauve cheeks turning a bright red. Stubbornly, he crossed his arms over his chest, all the while glaring at his giggling mother.

“Thank you very very much for getting up, deary! Now do your mama a favor and get dressed so we can get started.” Smiling playfully, she rubbed her son’s messy pink hair before leaving him alone in his bedroom.

The moment she was out of sight, the young elf flopped back down onto his back, a yawn escaping from his mouth. “It’s too early,” he groaned under his breath. Terrence was a typical five year old who hated getting up. He rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. It was impossible without his blanket. He slipped out of bed and onto his feet, slowly making his way over to a birchwood dresser in the corner of the room. Hardly caring what he wore, he reached in and pulled out anything his hands touched, throwing the rumpled clothes on the bed. The sleep-deprived elf trudged back over to the now-vacant mattress and examined the scattered clothes, praying that his mother wouldn’t mind the mess. His choices were a frilly, pear colored blouse, dark brown puffy pants, a cream colored tunic, and maroon breeches. Without a second thought, he picked up the blouse and puffy pants, then hastily put them on.

Right on time, he heard his mother’s voice from the living room calling, “Are you dressed yet? I’d love to see my handsome little boy soon, y’know!”

“I’m coming, Ma!” Terrence shouted back, barely trying to conceal his annoyance. “Jus’ hold on!” Hurriedly, he scanned the room to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything, then scuttled into the living room. His mother was sitting on a moss-covered rocking chair, sipping slowly from a delicate little teacup. Although the room was dark in the faint light of dawn, her eyes glittered brightly when she saw him.

“Oh, Terrence, you look stunning! I always knew that color suited you.”

“Ma..!” Cheeks flushing, he looked away with embarrassment.

“Well, what do you want me to say, dear? It’s true!” Finishing off her cup of tea, she placed it on the low table and then flung a brown satchel over her shoulder. “Ready to go?”

“Um,” Terrence paused, glancing around the room as if he were searching for something, “Is Dad coming with us?”

An apologetic smile on her face, his mother shook her head. “No, not this time, dear. He has a lot of work to do in town today, so he’s still resting up. Sorry sweetheart.”

“Oh, alright. Then I’m ready to go,” Terrence murmured before letting out a big yawn.

Watching him fondly, his mother laughed lightly and shook her head. “Okay, sleepyhead. I’ll carry you so you can rest some more. How does that sound?” Her son didn’t say anything in response; instead, he simply held out his arms to her. Chuckling again, she heaved him up over her head and onto her shoulders. “I’m only doing this so you can get more sleep before we reach the cool flowers! That means you better sleep!” she reminded him, but he had already drifted off.

When he was awoken by his mother tapping on his foot, it was around noon. Rubbing his tired, sunset colored eyes, he looked around at his surroundings. They had stopped in front of an endless field of strange looking flowers, each with six, bright white petals. “What are those, Ma?” he mumbled, intrigued by the sight.

“Those are Diphylleia, more commonly known as skeleton flowers. They’re very rare and very dangerous. It’s said that anyone who touches it will be gifted with bad luck.” Glancing back at him with a concerned look on her face, his mother continued, “Promise me you won’t test that legend’s accuracy. I want to let you down now so you can get some blood pumping. Okay?” Without a word, her son slightly nodded his head, his eyes glued onto the field of flowers. Albeit a little hesitant, she helped him down off of her shoulders.

Despite the chilling words from his mother, Terrence could not ignore the nagging urge to take one of the flowers into his small hands. It was almost as if a siren was beckoning him towards it. Cautiously, he glanced back at his mother. She had her back turned towards him, apparently studying some other small flower peeking up out of the dirt. Taking his chances, he impulsively scurried over to the nearest cursed flower, plucked it from its flimsy green stem, and shoved it into his pocket. “Ma, I’m ready to go! Can we see some other flowers now?” he called innocently, making his way back over to his mother.



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