fleur ! - howl pendragon

five.

Edith giggled as she pranced joyfully through the field of flowers, pastel hues of pinks and yellows surrounding her in splashes of color. Her shoulder length ginger locks had been tied neatly into a ponytail with the help of a small blue yellow ribbon, strands blowing freely with the summers breeze as she bounced along through the field, a small yet well-made wicker basked hanging delicately from her fingers by its woven handle. She carefully gathered flowers as she hurried about, preparing to make a bouquet, just as her own father had taught her. She plucked a few flowers by the stems, flashing a toothy grin as she examined each one petal by petal. Though a majority of the beautiful blossoms she had been picking were the same flower, she couldn't help but find beauty in the fact that they were all different in one way another, unique in their own ways. She'd always had a peculiar admiration for flowers, ever since she was a toddler. She believed that they were not unlike people, each different from the last, each needing love and nurturing to grow from a bud into a beautiful blossoming flower. Edith gently placed the flowers into the basket, her yellow silk dress dancing in the wind. She looked across the field, catching sight of her parents as they sat upon a red checkered picnic blanket, conversing between each other as the sun shone down on their figures, kissing their skin with its golden light. Marnie laid peacefully to their right, a coloring book in hand as she propped herself up on her elbows, scribbling away with a violet crayon as she laid on her stomach. It was Marnie's 9th birthday, and she wanted nothing more than to spend the occasion with her loving family. Their father had taken the liberty of bringing his family to a flower field some ways out of town, insisting that they all could use a bit of sun to grace their pale complexions. Edith raised a hand in the air, waving joyfully to her parents as they sat hand in hand. She held the wicker basket close to her small frame as she began to run over to them, only stopping once she'd reached the edge of the blanket, stopping to look down at something on the ground. It was a small, black and yellow butterfly, pigmented wings shining with the sunlight as it sat upon a dandelion. Though, Edith had noticed one thing, the butterflies wing had been badly torn in two places. It flapped it's delicate wings with all its might, yet it seemed it was unable to fly indefinitely, never to feel the breeze on its wings again. Edith gasped, kneeling down and outstretching her hand to the insect, orbs sparkling with the sunlight as it crawled onto her hand. "Father, look!" She called to his attention as she stood back up, carefully setting her basket of flowers down onto the blanket as she kneeled before her parents, now holding the butterfly between the palms of her two hands. "It's a butterfly! -I think it might be hurt." She frowned, holding her hands out so that her father could get a better look. Her father leaned forward, strands of his short ginger hair falling in front of his forehead as he smiled, examining the insect that sat in the palms of his daughters hands. "Wow, good find! Butterflies are a sign of healthy plants, you know." he grinned. Marnie perked up at the sound of their conversation, sitting up and crawling across the blanket to her sister. She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear as she took a look at the bug, humming. "I think it's dying." Marnie raised an eyebrow, poking at the bug with her index finger. Her father gently nudged Marnie's finger away from the butterfly with his hand. "W-What..?" Edith looked at her sister with worry, then back at her father again. "I don't want it to die!" Edith frowned, bottom lip quivering as tears began to brim her eyes. Her father smiled sweetly, placing a hand upon the top of Edith's head, who was currently looking down at the butterfly, holding her hands close to her chest. "Darling." Edith looked up at the sound of her father's voice, a worried expression on her face. "Everything dies eventually. That's just the way life works." He smiler solemnly, ruffling her hair slightly before pulling his hand away. "Everything.... Dies? Does that mean you'll die too?" Edith asked, blinking. When her question fell on deaf ears, she looked up, only to realize her father wasn't there. Nobody was. She was completely alone. She hadn't even realized that the butterfly in her hand had too disappeared as she stood up, glossy eyes widened to the size of saucers as she soon began to panic. "Mother! Father!" She called out, only to be met with silence. Complete silence. It seemed as if every trace of life around her was gone. The birds no longer sang with the wind, the bugs no longer buzzing and chirping from the grass around her as her world went quiet. Before she could call out again, she felt the ground beneath her feet disappear, yelping as she looked down, only to see a large black abyss appearing from where their picnic blanket once sat. She looked up to the sky as she fell, reaching out her hands desperately in an attempt to save herself from her demise, but to no avail.

Edith gasped roughly as she shot up from her bed, hair standing up wildly as beads of sweat formed on her porcelain skin. She drew in a long, low breath, looking around her small and shyly decorated bedroom, realizing that it had all been a dream. "Just a nightmare." She whispered, closing her eyes as a sigh escaped from her slightly chapped, peachy hued lips. She allowed herself to fall back against her pillows, soft feather filled clouds welcoming her tired frame with open arms as she relaxed into her mattress. She opened her eyes once more, gazing up at the ceiling, eyes focused on a small crack in the antique wooden planks above her. It'd been so long since she'd dreamt of her father, the image of his once youthful features becoming that of a memory in the back of her mind. Five years. It had been five years since her father's death, though she had gotten no better at coping with the pain, no better at finding peace within herself. She never had known the full story of how he died, though she didn't think she really wanted to know, he was gone forever and that's all that she could focus on. Her mother had supposedly been the only person to witness the death of her father, explaining to her weeping family that their father had been taken from them by the wrath of a single heart attack. Edith's hand clenched into a tight fist as she remembered the sight of her mother's face as she told her children of her lovers death, nearly smiling as she offered a sickeningly fake apology. Her mother never even batted an eye at the loss of her lover, and from what Edith could remember, she never even bothered to show up at his funeral. There were many things Edith despised about her mother, though her stone cold heart was what she hated the most. She hadn't heard from her mother since her father's death, no one had, and she hoped from the bottom of her heart that she never would.