Hemlock

Raindrops on Roses

     The beast couldn't have arrived in the most subtle manner. With the rumble of its stomach filling the once quiet night, sleep was inevitable. After a long day out in the sun, the last thing Niamh wanted was to deal with the chaotic aftermath the beast of a storm was going to leave. All that hard work for nothing. She supposed it was her fault for putting so much effort into the vegetable garden the other day. After all, the gloomy climate was only going to get grayer with the passing days. No matter how much she prayed or attempted to sacrifice to whichever god was up there, there seemed to be more bad luck. More rain, more soil, more floors to clean, as her mother would say. There was no knowing what else she was going to get grounded for. It would be a battle between the blossoming vegetable garden, or the fresh roses that she had worked on all summer long. Yet she couldn't calm the itch to tend the garden, no matter the risk of getting grounded.

       With a raised eyebrow and a puff of cold air, Niamh tightened her warm scarf and marched out of the door. Her rain boots squished the soft mud, each step reminding her of the amount of work that had gone down the drain. She looked up at the angry clouds, a few raindrops hitting her eyes, which prompted a surprised squeak to escape her lips. The beast didn't seem fond of her either. Unlike other elements of nature, she didn't hesitate to curse at it, the heavy tarp under her arm waving around as she punched the air. Had this not been going on, she would've stayed in her warm bed without a worry. If only she had seen the warning signs, if only she could control the weather, if only the soil could stay put...

     If only, if only.

     Once she got her annoyance out of her system, she twisted her fox-red hair into a simple plait and rubbed her exposed hands together. For the cold she felt outside, she felt underdressed, but this was an emergency of sorts. No matter how silly it was to care so much about the many plants she had insisted on planting, she was going to leave for a long time. Might as well bid them all goodbye while she fixed the mess. Her eyes went down to the watch around her wrist, using her lantern to get a better look. She swore she wouldn't count down the minutes till dawn. It would only make sleeping harder for her, yet the slightest trickle of rain down her window was enough to alert her. There was no use in complaining about that now. She was up; she was getting drenched in rain, and time would not slow down for her. No matter how much she wanted that to be true. The only good thing she could think of was getting her mind out of the rapid changes going on in her life. Even if it was for an hour.

     Trying not to dwell on the growing feeling of dread in her stomach, she cautiously marched on until she stopped by the sad sight of the half-destroyed vegetable garden. "Couldn't last a day, could you?" she mumbled under her breath, her fingers gingerly touching the soil. Sliding the tarp from under her arm, she inspected the small, green leaves that poked out of the soil, making sure they were still in place. Her eyes caught sight of one drowning in the corner, hints of green slightly poking through the mud that devoured it. Niamh tilted her head back, letting out a grunt. "No clay soil for vegetables," she shook her head, running her fingers through her hair, which undid half of the braid.

     As soon as she calmed down before she destroyed the plants herself, she dropped to her knees and started her meticulous work. Tools loudly clanged around as she rummaged through the box she had on her free hand, making her wince. Between the loud rumble of the storm and her tools, she was certain her mother would be up any moment now. Without the rising sun to peek through the windows, she had a chance of sneaking back inside. If the track of mud towards her room didn't give her whereabouts away.

     While she would've liked her whining to do all the work for her, time was against her. Using the flashlight to find a new home for the dying plants, it took a bit of rummaging around the thick bushes that surrounded the house. She picked up a wooden carton box which upon further inspection was only dirty from the mud and a few splintered corners here and there. It was far from perfect as she was unsure if the flimsy, wet tablets of wood on the crate would hold up well, but it had to make do for the time being. Brushing a tendril of hair out of her eyes, she took a moment to put her thoughts in order. If she could, she would've done everything at once. No idea could wait a second longer. Though this called for careful work. The last thing she needed was a bunch of dead plants in her hands.