F*cked Up High

Sanguis Flores

Warning: This episode consists mentions of domestic abuse, drugs, and human trafficking. Skip Kanik's backstory if you wish to avoid the mentions.

My name is Kanik Akabana. I am 18 years-old. Due to the fact that I am an advanced Scarlet Elite member, I do not have to share my story, but I already find my story something in the past now. Because of this I will be willing to share my story. Not because it's required in the form, nor because I want to be vulnerable. I'm sharing my story because it is complete. Because it is a narrative.

I was the son of a wealthy businessman, Juno Akabana, and a florist, Marilyn Desrosier. I remember my life back then so vividly. My early years were filled with bright colors and flowers, smiles and family, innocence and safety. I remained homeschooled by my mother my entire life, becoming ahead of the expected knowledge of kids my age and learning different languages such as French and Latin. Not only was I taught all my years by my mother, but I had grown even more in our familial relationship together. She taught me her love for flowers, their beauty and further gorgeousness when combining them all into a single piece. She taught me the symbols of languages, French and Latin, the language of love and the language of etiquette. She taught what it meant to be a family, to know that there are only a handful of people you can always relate to.

Although I spent all of my time with my mother, I never saw my father much. Though, whenever I did, our experiences with each other were always enjoyable. I was always filled with excitement upon hearing news that my father would be coming home, but over the years, that excitement slowly transformed into fear. Day after day, year after year, my father began to grow sour towards my mother and I. The times he would come home became experiences filled with pain and tears. He would lash at my mother, his own wife, with the very hands used to place a ring on her finger. No matter how hard I placed my hands over my ears, how far away I was in the house, how many walls I placed between me and the scene, I could not silence the noises of my mother screaming and pleading for mercy. I could not save myself from the pain in my mind, nor could I do anything to save my mother from her scars.

My father became ruthless and began beating me after I overheard a conversation between him and my mother. He had been involved in mass criminal activity, providing resources for a gang that dealt with drug dealing and human trafficking. My father has been with other women in the past, starting a family and setting them up to become fodder for his business. After figuring out his secret, he killed my mother. I remember the day so clearly. I locked myself in my room, the only noise echoing through the walls being my father banging on the door and the blood seeping from my mom's cuts. My heart was beating wildly, as if my rib cage was being punched from the inside. My hands were covered in blood, trembling in fear while holding onto my mom's arm. It was this moment right here where I gained my powers; a trauma-type ability forged out of mother's own blood and flowers, pain and love.

The vines around our house tightened around the walls and caused the building to collapse, leaving my father in the rubble and myself beneath a barrier of vines and flowers. I stood over my father, who was struggling to get up due to the stone crushing his legs. A red flower came up to me on a vine. A rose. Her favorite. I touched the vine connected to the rose and it began to thicken, the petals changing into the shape of a blade. This was my ability. This was what I wanted to do. But at the same time, I could feel my mother's desires. Despite this man being the reason for her sorrow, she still felt apologetic toward him. But once more. This was what I wanted to do. I grabbed the blade formed out of the rose and stabbed my father in the heart, causing the flower's vines to feed on his blood and circulate through his entire body; sprouting flowers from his eye sockets and veins. "Lex talionis. An eye for an eye." I walked away from the scene, feeling empty, but satisfied at the same time. Despite the destruction that had happened, it was beautiful in a way. It was beautiful that something so pretty could sprout from a man as rotten and sickening as my father.