flora
She hits the gravel like a felled bird, knees cracking against the gilded stones as her hands scrabble uselessly for purchase. The compass falls from her grasp, spinning once before settling in the dust beside her. Blood is already soaking through the back of her sundress—what’s left of it—painting it a sickly, spreading crimson that glistens as it slides down her spine, clinging in rivulets to her thighs.
New Haven is quiet.
The wind stirs the wildflowers at the town’s edge. Lanterns sway gently on their posts, golden glass catching the sun. Life is so normal here. Peaceful. But Flora is a wound split open in the middle of it, and the peace is a mockery. Her breath catches on the way in, a sharp, wet sound that shears through her ribs. Agony tears through her again with the motion—white-hot, jagged. Claws, her mind whispers faintly, as if she could forget, as if her body isn't a map of new ruin. Her arms tremble beneath her. Her vision swims.
"Help—" the word is broken, more air than sound, and she tries again, louder this time, panic beginning to tremble through the edges of her voice. "Please—someone—"
The gravel bites into her palms. The sun is too warm. The pain is blooming wider, sharper with every second she’s left alone in it. ”I need—" her voice cracks, falters. The gold-flecked road runs quiet beneath her blood.
New Haven is quiet.
The wind stirs the wildflowers at the town’s edge. Lanterns sway gently on their posts, golden glass catching the sun. Life is so normal here. Peaceful. But Flora is a wound split open in the middle of it, and the peace is a mockery. Her breath catches on the way in, a sharp, wet sound that shears through her ribs. Agony tears through her again with the motion—white-hot, jagged. Claws, her mind whispers faintly, as if she could forget, as if her body isn't a map of new ruin. Her arms tremble beneath her. Her vision swims.
"Help—" the word is broken, more air than sound, and she tries again, louder this time, panic beginning to tremble through the edges of her voice. "Please—someone—"
The gravel bites into her palms. The sun is too warm. The pain is blooming wider, sharper with every second she’s left alone in it. ”I need—" her voice cracks, falters. The gold-flecked road runs quiet beneath her blood.
My house of stone, your ivy grows
And now I'm covered in you
And now I'm covered in you
