See it through the flower | Teen Ink

See it through the flower

January 2, 2013
By Nelu96 GOLD, Windhoek, Other
Nelu96 GOLD, Windhoek, Other
10 articles 0 photos 19 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Life isn't about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself."- George Bernard Shaw

It was an afternoon in the spring. The wind tickled my stalk and weaved its fingers through my petals. In the warm yellow of the sunlight, I saw two women approaching the shelf upon which I stood. They were dressed in the bright colors of my favorite season and their faces radiated pure joy. Excitement welled up within me when I saw them shake their heads as they passed my wilting friends. I then stretched my petals towards the light so they would glow beautifully. I opened my pores to let out the scents that tantalized human noses and sure enough, the women dropped their jaws when their eyes fell upon me. “Oh my, this is beautiful” one of them exclaimed. A mixture of relief and gratitude surged through me as they lifted me off the uneventful rack and took me to the till. I waved goodbye to my unlucky friends by letting the wind flutter my petals.

After a noisy, bumpy ride, we arrived at a colossal house. A garden full of happy, blossoming fellows stood tranquil in front of the house. But to my disappointment, I was not going to live there. Instead, I was placed in a cardboard box. Luckily, it was perforated so I would not suffocate in the dark. After a few hours of dull slumber in there, one of the ladies finally lifted the lid off my box. She lifted me into warm hands and brought me close to her nose. I opened my pores again to tantalize her nose. I could see tears wetting the back of her eyelashes as she caressed my petals with her fingers. She held me to her chest and stared blankly into the air for a while. She then sighed and replaced me back in the box.

Sometime later, I was woken abruptly by panicked shouts. “Where is it? I can’t find it anywhere!” I recognized my owner’s voice. Was she searching for me? “What am I going to hold? This is a disaster! My wedding is ruined!” her voice trailed into a sob.
“Calm down, dear, I’m sure it’s here somewhere,” another voice soothed. I then felt the box being lifted rapidly. The lid flew off and light flooded the interior of the box. “Here it is, dear. Don’t worry everything is going to be just fine.” The sobbing lady lifted me from the box. Her palms were moist and her fingers shook vigorously. She wiped a tear off her face, sighed and hugged the lady who had found me.

We rode in a vehicle with a long body and throughout the ride, the lady kept me close to her chest. I could hear her heart thumping against her rib cage. Her fingers where still trembling. We reached another colossal building where a clamorous applause muffled the sound of her pounding heart. A multitude of people filled the pews on either side of a narrow white carpet. She held me with on hand and placed the other in the arm of an elegantly dressed man. She walked slowly down the aisle. The people stared at her in admiration, some smiling, and some wiping tears off their cheeks.

The man next to her stepped back when we reached the front of the building and another took his place. A man in a cassock delivered a short speech where after he directed a question at the couple, first the man, then the lady holding me. The man answered in a voice filled with pride.” I do” Tears sparkled in the sockets of the lady’s eyes. Her warm breath wafted over me as she turned to her man and smiled. “I do.” Her voice was softer. Her hands never stopped shaking. She handed me over to another lady so she could grace her man’s finger with a radiant gold ring. He too adorned her tremballingger with a similar ring. Then, the man in a cassock exclaimed: “I now pronounce you husband and wife!” a rapturous applause followed his announcement.

Then, it was time for the dreadful ritual. I had heard of it from my friends and I abhorred it deeply. It was the epitome of the cruelty and callousness of humans. From her moist, shivering hands, my body was thrust into the air. The wind brushed roughly against me as I twisted and turned in suspension. Then, groping hands reached up towards me. They pulled at my body mercilessly flooding my body with excruciating pain as they plucked off my petals with their greedy hands. After a few seconds of torture, a pair of hands clutched tightly at me and flourished what was left of me in the air.

I was thrust into a plastic bag by the hands that had won me. Slowly, I began to feel the life leaking out of me.

The author's comments:
A different perspective.

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