Flowers

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A/N: I love Isabela and I think her and Mirabel's relationship is so neat.

Trigger warning: suicidal thoughts, implied self harm, references to sexual stuff.

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Flowers taste like acid in her tongue.

Nerium Oleander.

Aconitum.

Snake Lily.

Rafflesia Arnoldii.

Foxglove.

Belladonna.

These were just a few of the many poisons, deadly flowers, that Isabela grew. A bitter taste is left on her tongue as she eats the flowers. They don't affect her, god she wishes it does.

Vines grow and twist along her body, around her wrist and neck. Sharp thorns prick at her skin. The air is thick from the different flowers that are in her room. If someone were to look inside her room, all they would see are roses, but under the surface the other flowers hid. Just like a corpse in a garden. Except this corpse isn't dead yet. Isabela thinks.

Sometimes Isabela thinks she should be consumed, buried underground under the flowers. Isabela thinks she's not human. She can make plants grow with a wave of her hand. She can feel flowers budding under her skin, in her bones and blood. Can the flowers tangle her organs? Can her bones go into her skin and sink there thorns in her heart?

Sometimes she forgets to breathe, or she gets tired in the dark, she moves slowly, and drinks lots of water, she forgets to eat sometimes as well. She's like a living plant that took a human form. Isabela thinks she's like a Greek Nymph. She has to be, there is no other explanation for why she has this gift, why she had to be perfect, why she feels so..... hollow.

Isabela thinks of death and plants and she scratches, scratches, scratches at her arms and legs, to feel a bit of pain to distract her. These imperfections, these morbid and macabre thoughts, they give her meaning. She desperately wants to be the perfect. The perfect daughter, the perfect granddaughter, the perfect mother and wife.

Maybe Isabela is a Greek tragedy instead.

Blood pulls and drips into the flowers. Bright red stains soft pink. The bitter taste keeps itching her mouth and throat. Isabela feels like a modern Ophelia, only instead of water she drowning in flowers. Would she be seen as a symbolic figure if she were to die in the flowers? Or as a tragic girl, not a women, someone innocent and pure. Isabela don't think she pure.

Laying on her bed, in the flowers, Isabela pushes with all her strength and let's her emotions go wild. Cryptantha, Encenillo trees, Flor de Mayo, Palma de Cera, sundews, catctus, heliconias. The all plants grow out of her body, she can feel then tear and pull at her skin, can feel the roots twist and wrap around her bones and organs, she can blood lightly pour out. Her body is uses as a ecosystem, would she still be alive if the plants overtake her body? Death is a garden and her body is the soil.

As the flowers and plants grow Isabela feels like she's in nirvana or euphoric. The feeling of doing something dangerous, inappropriate, taste like freedom. Taste bitter. She can feels her eyes roll back, static seems to numb her body as the flowers keep springing up. She keep going more and more, even when her body tells her to stop. Even when bruises blossom and  her body twitches.

Lilies, white and yellow ones travel along her skin, they cluster around her throat and chest, they clusters around her inner thighs and around her hips.
Purity, virtue, and desires. Isabela wasn't any of these things, not matter how hard she try. The Lilies seem to mock her, both in there color and the way there place on her body.

Isabela grabs one of her pillow and shoved in on her face, letting out a mangled noise. Anger, pain, sadness, euphoria. The emotions get twisted and come out in a loud groan. The noise is nice, she groan louder. If her family here to walk in on her what would they thing? Would they think she's impulsive?

Purple hyacinth, narcissus, marigolds, bloom into a crown on her head. In Greek mythology white lilies were made by Hera from the milk from her breast, but in the Roman version; Venus was jealous of the flowers's purity, so she has the flower's pistil grow in it's center. Isabela let's out a laugh. Flowers are connect to feminine, and connect to fertility.
Its mostly due to most flowers have a pistil. Deflower, red flowers blood, flowing, and more all these symbolize females. Isabela let's out another dry laugh. No matter if her gift was nature based or not, she can't escape flowers and their meanings.

As Isabela laughs and laughs they somehow turn into sobs, the flowers stop growing, the wilt and shriveled and turn into dust. Like ash. The flowers and trees and plants on her skin turn to ash, the flowers on her bed and her wall and all around her room wilt and fade to dust, leaving Isabela in her room, bare, and alone. She cry harder.

Isabela doesn't want to marry Mariano, doesn't want to marry at all. But she's the oldest, the perfect daughter. She has to. It's her job, it why she's alive. If Isabela can't do this simple, important thing then what good is she? She failed as a big sister, she so cruel and mean toward Mirabel. How many times did she tell her sister to go away? Ignore her? How many time has Mirabel and her get into screaming matches? How many times has she heard Mirabel say she didn't trust her, hates her?

Tears choke her throat. When did she get so bad, so rotten? She's not a good sister, why? When did she starts pushing her sister away? When did they loss that connection? No matter how hard Isabela try's to be kind, loving to her sister, she always mess it up.

Mirabel annoying her? Isabela snaps and yells. Mirabel didn't listen to her? She shove the younger girl, gets handsy with her. Mirabel hates her and she starts to cry? Isabela try to comfort her, but Mirabel turns away and goes to Luisa for comfort. Mirabel try's to play or share her hobbies? No, not now, I'm busy. Or no, that boring, let's do this instead.

For years Isabela been this way to her sister. Why? She can't remember. Jealous? Fear? Isabela doesn't how to change there relationship. Even if she did, she's be the one to break their bond. She's rotten. A liar, a disappointed.

More and more tears fall. She can't tell if hours pass or just minutes. This gross feeling lingers in her stomach, how can she get rid of it?

"ISABELA! COME DOWNSTAIRS MARIANO IS COMING." A voice, her mom, yells.

Isabela blink, sleepy, did she fall asleep? Slowly getting up, Isabela notices her room and self. Lazy waving her hand the room goes back to "normal" Abuela's normal more like it. Slowing moving out of her bed, Isabela getting into a new dress, the one she wears is covered in dirt, rips,
tears, and blood. Not appropriate. Going to her closet she grabs her dress, a pale lilac color dress, one out of many identical ones. Lilac mean innocence, tranquility, and sensitive.

Walking to her vanity, Isabela combs her hair, it's long and thick and always down. What would it be like if she wore it up? Cut it? Color it? After her hair is done Isabela goes and put on her makeup. While Isabela loves looking cute and pretty, she hate that she has to do this 24/7 all day ever day, both in town and with her family. The only time she can let go and just...be, is here in her room, even then that isn't 100% hers. The flowers are there for Abuela, Dolores can hear everything, down to the tiniest breath. She doesn't have privacy.

Isabela takes a deep breath then makes her face go into a restful smile, a fake smile that didn't reach her eyes. Sometimes she forget that she smiling or even forgets how to smile. It feels unnatural and strained. Quickly shaking her head Isabela try to get rid of these thoughts, she can't have them right now, later, once she get engaged to Mariano, she can breakdown.

Heading to out the door, Isabela overhears Mirabel talking about their Tio Bruno, she narrows her eyes. What is her sister doing? Waving a hand her vine-swing comes to her, sitting down she start to lower herself to the ground. Well, if the rest of the family is talking about Bruno, she do to.

Later when is helping the rest of the family set the table she wonder if anyone can see the sadness and desire when she sings about her uncle's vision for her.

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