Rose was not sure where she was, but found she couldn’t care less. This place gave her a sense of peace and contentment, the likes of which she rarely felt. The joy she could practically feel radiating from the plants seemed to seep into her and the near-phantom rain washed over her like a caress. Even the gathering fog was pleasing in the way that it curled and swirled.
The sun was setting, darkness falling, and soon night-blooming flowers began to appear, plant limbs bending slightly under their precious burden. They seemed to glow in the darkness, and Rose found herself drawn to a large red one nearby. As she drew closer, she could make out a movement coming from within the flower’s petals, as if it had something stuck within its bosom. Curious, she touched the lip of the blossom, smiling softly as it unfurled beneath her fingers.
A butterfly! A silver dappled butterfly had somehow gotten itself trapped in the flower, silly thing that it was. It flapped its little wings, but seemed unable to take off, so Rose offered her hand to the delicate thing. It crawled up her hand, and she withdrew it slowly, hoping not to startle the beauty.
However, it was Rose that was startled, for as soon as she had withdrawn her hand from the flower the butterfly took on the ghostly from of *********, the talking cat. ********* looked at her urgently, trying to speak, but unable to make a sound. The cat then waved a paw at the flowers around her, and at the sky above, a gesture that only served to confuse Rose.
Boom!
The deep thunderclap jarred Rose badly and she was surprised to find that the crying clouds from earlier had been replaced by those of a dark, angry storm. The rain had stopped but the wind was picking up, and picking up quickly. Rose met ********* resigned eyes and clutched the cat tightly, but to no avail: the next gust of wind blew ********* away, her shimmering, wispy remains falling to join the fog.
Holding now onto naught but empty air, Rose’s arms fell loosely to her side. She looked around, unable to understand how such a paradise had changed into a nightmare so quickly. Many of the plants seemed to be fading. It was as if their energy, their very souls, were being drained by the flowers that sat at their tips. The flowers themselves were parasites, swelling grotesquely, their glow now seeming to have a sinister intent. Worst of all, Rose could see vague shapes moving in the depths of each of them, save for the one that had ensnared *********; it was dead.
It was with a sense of dread that Rose approached the next flower. She broke a stick from the plant, running the sap-coated end over the edge of the blossom’s mouth. It opened reluctantly, revealing a tiny butterfly, which eagerly clung to the proffered stick. As soon as her finger touched the impossibly small pink butterfly, a flash of recognition shot through her.
‘ Flora! My sister, Flora!’
Rose quickly slipped the stick and its priceless passenger under her shirt and began to run. And run. And run. She ran fast and hard, and was tiring at a frighteningly fast pace, when she realized she was back where she started, next to the flower that had imprisoned butterfly-*********. She stopped and panted, staring at the flower. She saw it twitch, but was unable to do more then shout when a vine shot from its depths and hit her in the stomach. She crumpled, choking back a sob when she felt butterfly-Flora dissipate. She removed the stick – it hadn’t vanished – and gave a cry of horror when she saw that it was dripping blood from its broken end. She flung it away and moved to stand, but another vine appeared, whipping her legs out from over her. She landed on her back, the wind knocked out of her.
The fog rolled over her, heavy and oppressive, and she could feel herself choking, unable to catch her breath. Vines clutched at her, and she could feel herself being dragged across the wet ground. She struggled, but her attempts were weak. She saw forked lightning split the sky, felt the downpour begin, heard the wailing of the wind, and with the last of her energy, saw the massive petals close around her.
~*~
Rose woke with a start, gasping for breath. She looked around her room, tense and trembling, only able to relax when she heard her mother’s off-key singing drifting from the kitchen.
‘ Only a nightmare.’
