The Garden

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There was a garden deep in the heart of the city. It was walled off and very secret, known only to the gardener and his dearest friends. It was a nice garden; very green with rare flowers that few had ever seen. The Gardener took great care to keep his garden a secret, but as always, children have a way of uncovering even the most hidden of secrets.

Her name was Ophelia and she adored flowers. How she stumbled upon the Gardener's hideaway was really something of an accident. She had found an alley where she liked to play. This alley saw very few people come its way. It connected to a long, very tall, brick wall that even the adults couldn't climb over. Well, one day, Ophelia was playing against this wall when she pushed on some odd-looking bricks. The bricks, instead of holding her back, gave way, revealing that they were in fact, not bricks at all, but a mask to cover a small wrought iron gate.

Beyond this gate was a small tunnel that led to a paradise of trees and flowers of all kinds. Ophelia knew that a greenhouse had been beyond the wall, but never paid it any mind because of how high the wall had been. Now that she was here, the wonder of it all captivated her.

There were so many flowers she had never seen before! Her favorites were the small red ones though

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There were so many flowers she had never seen before! Her favorites were the small red ones though. They covered much of the garden's ground. She spent hours inside until the sound of a distant door caused her to run for the hidden gate. She looked back in time to see a man arrive, carrying what she thought might be fertilizer.

He must have been the gardener. She thought.

Ophelia wasn't sure if she should say hello, so she left the way she had entered. It was many days before she worked up the courage to visit the garden again. The Gardener was waiting for her, however.

"What are you doing, young lady? Don't you know that this is private property?" He said, gruffly.

Ophelia was scared. She started to cry. "I'm sorry! You just have such a beautiful garden. It's really pretty. Please don't be mad!"

"You think my garden is pretty?" The Gardener asked.

Ophelia nodded. "Very pretty. I haven't seen anything more lovely."

The Gardener smiled. His rough features softened. "It is lovely, isn't it? Would you like me to show you around?"

Ophelia wanted that very badly. So, the Gardener did just that. He led her through the large garden with its lovely plants. They spent hours talking about how beautiful it all was and how the Gardener had watched over it for many years. It grew late, though and Ophelia had to go. The Gardener said that she was welcome anytime. There were, however, two rules.

Ophelia could never tell another soul of the garden or bad things would happen. The Gardener didn't say what those bad things would be, mind you, only that places like this must remain secret for everyone's good.

The second rule was a bit stranger; especially given how serious the man had been about it. Under no circumstances was Ophelia to harm the plants. It seemed an easy enough rule to follow, so she didn't ask why, but deep down, she wondered.

Now, you must know that Ophelia had not seen one of the neighborhood children following her that day. It was mean old Betty May, a girl who was jealous of Ophelia and wasted no time in being true to her namesake.

One day, when Ophelia had opened the door, Betty May appeared.

"So this is where you've been going!" Betty May said. She pushed Ophelia to the side and went into the greenhouse. The Gardener wasn't there, thankfully, so Ophelia had a chance to get her out before it was too late.

"This looks like a dump." She said to Ophelia. "You're such a weirdo!"

"You need to go, Betty May." She warned.

But Betty May flashed her a mean smile and tried pushing Ophelia down. Ophelia stepped out of the way though, and Betty May went tumbling over a patch of Ophelia's favorite red flowers.

"You little rat!" Betty May yelled. She got up, covered in red petals. "I'm going to hurt you for that!"

Ophelia ran. Betty May liked to hit hard. The two of them went racing through the garden for several minutes before Betty May let out a scream. Ophelia turned around in time to see that she had tripped. A great big tree root was the culprit.

Had it been there before?

"That hurt!" Betty May growled. But when she tried to get up, something held on to her foot. It was some weeds. How had she stumbled that badly?

But then, Ophelia watched as the weeds tightened around her bully's ankle, not from her struggling, but with a life all their own. At that moment, the garden seemed to come alive, moving on an invisible wind. The weeds, grass, and flowers pulled the screaming girl towards a bare patch of earth that the Gardener had prepared only the day before. Then, the roots of the great big tree wrapped around her and dirt caved in on her screaming mouth.

Ophelia stared at the new mound of earth as, very slowly, the screaming finally stopped. Blood red flowers sprouted from the soil.

She ran out of the greenhouse in terror, pausing when she felt eyes on her back. When she turned, Ophelia saw the Gardener looking at her from the opposite side of the garden. He seemed different now. His skin was bark-like and she could have sworn that leaves were poking out from underneath his hat. His dark eyes seemed very sad. He shook his head.

That was the last Ophelia ever saw of the garden.

You see, when she finally convinced her family to follow her, Ophelia found an empty greenhouse. No more flowers or trees or plants of any kind. It was all brown earth. Dead.

Just like Betty May.

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