March Writing Prompts

March 6, 2023

Prompt: Write a 500-word story based on the color lavender.

Fifty thorns pulled from my backside later, I laid face down in the grass as she threw the last one back into the bush. Each pinpoint where one had been before was still stinging and somehow, the universe had managed to put the worst person right next to me when it happened.

"Since when do bushes of lavender have thorns in them?" I scoffed.

Her stifled giggle irritated me just as much as it surged my heart with admiration. Digging my face deeper into the grass, I listened as she explained, "That specific bush looks like it was planted with roses and probably merged together."

It had been a solid month since I'd seen Jenny last. We'd broken up for good and it was time to move on. She knew it, I knew, everyone knew that it was time. 

"How did you know where I was?"

The pause told me a bit more than I needed to know. There were a slew of reasons we didn't work out. One of those was her overbearing nature and constant check-ins throughout each day. It wouldn't surprise me to find out that she had a tracker on me or shared my location with her without me knowing.

Finally, she sighed, "I didn't know where you were, Brad. I was out walking like normal people do." My eyebrows told all the thoughts I had before my mouth could. "What are you insinuating? That I stalked you here?"

Shoulders to my ears, my hands facing up, "I don't know, Jenny. You always do this. You just show up where I am and it's weird. You don't find that weird?"

My friends had always said there was something off about her. Over the years we spent together, I had tried to turn a blind eye to it but it always came back around. There was something about her that wasn't like anyone else.

At first, my family was sure I was just blinded by love. 'She is actually insane. You have to see it. Why can't you see it?' but I always defended her.

Until now. 

"I'm going home," I noted. "Don't follow me."

She nodded and let me go without issue. Usually, she'd start a fight but not this time. I should be happy, elated even, that she didn't argue with me, yet I couldn't help but feel... off. A feeling in the pit of my stomach kept growing as I walked home. 

Walking in through the front door, I shook it off the best I could. Removing my shirt to let those prickled holes in my back breathe, I felt a presence. I couldn't turn quick enough to catch it before feeling the knife slide right through the middle of my ribcage.

Eyes wide, I saw her face. Everything added up. The lavender bush, the smell, and now her lavender-colored shirt. She'd been the serial killer everyone had been on the lookout for this past year and I'd made the grave mistake of breaking her heart.

"I guess you were right about me. Oops," she smiled.