𝐵𝑜𝑜𝓀 #𝟣 𝒫𝓇𝑜𝓅𝒽𝑒𝒸𝓎 𝒮𝑒𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 ↬
Blair Lain is convinced that death is coming for her. Her twin sister, Alex, says she's gone mad. Blair thinks that might be true, but she can't shake this feeling lurking inside her gut that screams tha...
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Much like my will to live, the plant had died.
I'd rushed the ungrateful bastard into my makeshift ER, preforming 'plant surgery,' like some kind of green-thumbed Flora (the Greek goddess of flowers). I'd snipped a few leaves, added some fresh potting mix, and about a gallon of water. As the droplets started to spill out onto the floor, soaking the white carpet of our rented townhouse, I realised that my methods might have been a little less goddess-like and more along the lines of water torture. I also realised with some regret that we definitely weren't getting our deposit back. Still, day after day, I'd dote over the plant as though I had the power to resurrect the dead.
I didn't.
The plant continued to wilt and—inevitably—crumbled away.
I frowned solemnly at its stickily carcass.
Perhaps I should've prayed to Demeter instead?
I wanted to blame fate, but really, I had an infinity for destroying all that I touched.
"For God's sake, let it go!" my sister snuffed from across the loungeroom. She was reading a sports magazine casually, like I wasn't in a state of mourning. It was a simple request to 'let it go,' but letting things go had always been a problem of mine.
