FLORICIDE| tom riddle

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His words are green. His tone is pink.

"I want to kill you."

His smile is a rose. His eyes are its thorns.

And she whispers back; "kill me."

Her words must have done something to his non existent heart because this time, he's the one between her legs.

Tom Riddle is death, Tom Riddle is tragedy. But at that moment, he is euphoria.

And after they're done, he moves away from her. Like always.

Agnes should have asked still no feelings for me?

But instead she asks, "Do you really want to kill me?"

"Do you want me to kill you?"

"No."

He lights a cigarette. She breathes in the fumes.

"I hope we both die," she remarks.

"I don't." He turns to look at her.

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"A lifetime of suffering doesn't sound nice," she whispers.

"You're suffering right now."

"Am I?"

"Are you?"

Yes.

But he doesn't need to know that so she remains quiet.

▪︎

Her letter comes. It's nothing new, nothing old.

come save your mama. i'm dying here. please rescue me. i have no one but you.

A tiny heart at the corner. Scratches on the cover. Ink spills here and there.

Still doesn't feel like a mother's letter though.

▪︎

She sits by the lake. Mirrosa and Hans remain a few distances away from her and yet she can still feel the sickly embraces of love and affection between them. The sky is blue, the breeze is pleasant, everyone is happy. Except her. And someone else. There has to be someone else.

"Why are you so glum?" Hans enquires, his hand still laced with Mirrosa's.

"I'm not,' Agnes replies curtly. "And you twats are bloody stupid aren't you? You're bound to be caught sooner or later."

He blows her a kiss.

And when the azure  reflected off the lake bathes Hans and Mirrosa in hues, Agnes realizes something.

What happens to others never happens to her.

How wonderful.

•

One thing about Agnes is that she never panics. There is little that deters her mental stability. Maybe it is due to the absence of a home- no one loves you- or the absence of a mother- hell must have started when I gave birth to you- or the absence of a father- I'm leaving and you must never follow me- or the absence of a sibling- you killed your sister, you understand!- or the absence of love- die.

So when she sees the body, she never flinches. Hazel eyes with the warmth sucked out of them staring at her, or the purple tinged lips, or the stillness- none of that deters her. She just stares.

And when students after students rush to the body, no one notices her. And that's good. Because she can only think of one thing right now.

Riddle.