Ordinary - (Dabi x OC)

Back To Our Roots

Top pic credit; Sumi354

Violet POV: - present time -

The word 'hopeless' doesn't even begin to describe how I feel right now.

I suppose some other words could be 'guilt.' 'Anxiety.' 'Isolation.' All of them interchangeable and only drowning me deeper with each passing second.

It mimics the grey, cloudy skies currently above my head, threatening to explode with a shower of downpour in any next second.

It also mimics the sea just a few miles down the boardwalk I reside on. The waves aren't calm today, probably thanks to the incoming storm. No, they're crashing heavily against the shore, their color mimicking the darkest shadow and swallowing everything in its path completely whole.

I suppose that's one of the reasons I love the ocean. It has a life of its own, complete with a story and emotions just like the rest of us. Even the sea has its bad days, willing to let everyone know when it's been wronged.

Part of me admires such strength from Mother Nature. Having no problem roaring and throwing a fit whenever it pleases. I admire this, because it's where I lack. While I have the same emotions as the sea, I don't release them the way it does.

No, I bottle everything up until there's physically no room left to hold another ounce. Until my mind and body break. Only then do I allow my own storm to rage and crash into everyone around me. It's only happened once, but since then, ten years of emotions have been gradually filling my soul to the absolute brim. With every passing day, I can tell there's not much room left. I can tell I'm forcing down the final bits into a place they don't fit. Into a place that will surely overflow and explode at any given moment.

And, yet. Not a single soul on this planet would ever know that if they were to see me right now.

With my sanity currently being cut up by the storm inside me, I remain lazily crouched at the bushel of ocean flowers along the sides of the boardwalk, gently stroking the petals of vibrant orange and blue.

While the possibility of a storm has brought less visitors to the beach today, there were still some passing by. I could see their touched smiles in my peripheral vision as they walked past me, thinking I must be the happiest, purest person the world ever saw, playing with my flowers. Some even stopped a few times to let me know this.

"You look straight from a painting, my dear." The tired man smiled, giving me a small nod as he carried his easel and stool further down the boardwalk.

"What a sweet, young lady you are." The older woman cooed, taking my return grin of gratitude as one of content.

"Mommy, I want to play with the flowers, too!" The little girl whined, trying to toggle her way over to me before her mother caught a firm grip on her arm.

"No, honey. We're already late to meet your father for lunch." The uptight woman reprimanded, barely glancing at me with hints of toxic green in her eyes. "Besides, not everyone has the free time to touch flowers all day. I know I don't."

I didn't even look up-or react, for that matter to her comment, continuing to stroke the flower petals with glazed over eyes and a coping, mechanical smile.

Because, truth be told, I also don't have time to be touching flowers all day, though I wish I did. I wish I came to the boardwalk today for that specific reason.

If people truly knew why I was here, they wouldn't be so quick to admire me-so quick to underestimate me and take my intentions as pure ones.

No. They'd run in the other direction. Looking at me with fear and disgust that I deserved.