Innocent, with a dash of mischief.
Clever and sarcastic, but not
Too clever or too sarcastic.
She was kind.
“The Flower Girl,” they called her,
Not because she pranced around with flowers in her hair or petals between her fingers,
But because there were always stars in her eyes,
As though she lived her life walking down the aisle,
A continuous state of euphoria and peace.
Endless

The community center was her second home
Or her first, since the house she lived in was a dark place
A dangerous place,
Nature was her heaven
And the roof above her head was hell,
But no one bothered to help her,
For it was her role to help others.
After all, she was the Flower Girl.
She would pick up others when they fell.
No one ever stopped to think what would happen if she stumbled,
If she dropped, alone, under her roof made of broken bones and shattered hearts,
Crushed between four walls that reeked of fear and rotting dreams.
No one would be there to pick her up.
But she wouldn’t fall.
She was the Flower Girl.

Every morning, before the world awoke,
She would tear from her house drenched in anguish and nightmares,
But it didn’t matter.
By the time she arrived at the community center
She smelled of bliss and radiated rose petals and solace.
She provided the elderly with comfort
And the homeless with safety.
The Flower Girl gave so much.
No one stopped to wonder if she had any comfort left for herself,
Or if she felt safe.

As the skies in the girl’s mind darkened
And the storms in her heart rattled her teeth,
Her persona shone brighter,
Her facade never dared crack.

One morning, the Flower Girl did not show up at the community center.
She had never missed a day of work,
But there was no reason to worry.
The townspeople walked to her house,
The farmers discussing their concerns over the coming winter
And their wives gossipping about the newest scandal.
The young children rushed ahead, eager to see the flower girl’s eternal smile
And to breathe in her harmonious scent.

They were the first to find the Flower Girl.

And they screamed a sound of such horror and shock that
The farmers and their wives shut their mouths and rushed to
Investigate the commotion.
They arrived seconds later.
Many of the women fainted and nearly all the men retched,
As the flower girl was no longer a being of sunshine and safety.

The roof of mangled bones and ruptured hearts had been too heavy for
The girl to hold up any longer.
The walls of tribulation and terror had overpowered her solo defenses.

The townspeople did not see the Flower Girl any more.
They saw a young, frail child.
Dead.

And they finally understood that she had never been the Flower Girl at all.