The Perceptions Of An Observer: A Short Story Collection

XVI. The Sunflower

The Sunflower wasn't really a sunflower. He was just referred to as one because of the way he was one with the sunflower fields in spirit. Bright, joyous, positive, a pleasure to be in the presence of.

He was a rare note of light and positivity in an unbearably bleak world.

It was no secret to The Sunflower that in his heart he was an outlier in the kingdom in which he resided. He knew he was a friend of those in The Puppet Master's clique, but that he was also an outlier as well. He had not yet tasted poison, he didn't even know the land was going to become poisoned in the smallest space between breaths.

He was just living his best life as the world came out of the sickness that shut the world down. He was soft as he came out of his isolation caused by this ravaging pandemic, like newly bloomed flower petals seeing the sun for the first time.

The Sunflower was unbelievably beautiful in the light of a newly reopening world, both inside and out.

There was not a single person who encountered The Sunflower in his fields that could bring themselves to hate him. There was nothing to find despicable in a delicate heart, only a deep expanse to love and get lost in.

He may have not been the most renowned in the world he was a resident of, but he was generally the most loved.

Even when he started getting in deeper with The Puppet Master and the inner circles of his clique when the world came back from the edge of sickness, he did not lose his heart. At his core, The Sunflower was still soft, genuine, freshly bloomed, the most loving person for both the royals and the outcasts of the world.

But The Puppet Master's corruption was starting to spread, slowly but surely. Imperceptible at first, but toxins were starting to work their way through the roots of the world, slowly building up to the surface and contaminating the people of his kingdom little by little.

Not even The Sunflower was immune.

After all, a poisonous soil can poison a plant, and poison a plant it would.

The Sunflower didn't know anything about poison and changing worlds. He didn't know anything about the alteration of himself by the means of the exposure to the world's contamination. In fact, he didn't even know he was changing, save for the fact that he was getting closer to the bullseye of The Puppet Master's circles of status in his kingdom.

Not that this meant anything to him. In his eyes, he was unchanged at his core. He was still the same person he was in and throughout his heart. He was unchanged emotionally, spiritually, mentally. His acquaintances were merely making more of a shift from the outcasts to the royals.

It wasn't that deep.

At least, not at first.

As time went on and poison spread, The Sunflower became more and more swayed by this rampant contamination. This once unnoticed alteration was becoming more and more noticeable by the months, by the weeks, by the mere days and seconds.

The way he was being sucked into the center of The Puppet Master's inner circle was not a cure for poison. Contrary, it was a catalyst, making it spread farther and faster.

The Sunflower was sucked into a black hole of the world, blind to the consequences falling into this trap held for the kind soul he had once been. He could not see the fatal flaws his new allegiances held. In his mind, there was not a single thing wrong with who he had become.

In his mind, he was still pure and soft at heart.

He didn't know he had been corrupted by The Puppet Master and his poison.

He didn't know his heart and soul had been twisted from the lightness of his past self to the darkness in conformity with the rest of the world.

It never crossed his mind that The Puppet Master and his lackeys were dangerous beings. The Sunflower thought they were a safety net to rely on.

It never crossed his mind that the outcasts and lower classes of the world that he had abandoned would be hurt by his betrayal. The Sunflower never gave them a second glance, a second thought after he walked away, never thought about the pain he, the one nobody believed could shatter hearts on a whim, would cause.

He never even saw the history of himself being erased slowly but surely. The sunflower fields that gave him his name were being burnt down, too beautiful to last in a tainted land. Everything of the person The Sunflower was before was being erased little by little, set to disappear until there was nothing left of it to be seen or remembered.

And The Sunflower didn't even know that he was losing himself.

He didn't know pain, he didn't know heartbreak, he didn't know the consequences of his actions, and he didn't know that he had changed for the worst.

Those who knew The Sunflower before the collapse of the golden saw this era of his being as his glory days. They wanted to remember him as bright, joyous, positive, a pleasure to be in the presence of. The rare note of light and positivity in an unbearably bleak world.

But for The Sunflower, he saw his era in The Puppet Master's hands as his golden era, his ride to glory. He saw himself as his most alive as the lines between past and present blurred, and a history became lost and forgotten to most.

And he did fully believe in his heart that his story was a happy one, a ride to glory.

But whether this was a true happy ending had to be a question in the minds of the masses. Was this a ride to glory or a fall from grace?

Almost every warning sign pointed to the latter.

A happier ending to his story wouldn't slip through the fingers of those who truly loved and missed him if his beautiful past never became tarnished with the touches of a present that was nothing but ugly at its core.

If only the sunflower fields were never poisoned, never burnt down, never erased from reality and memories.

If only The Sunflower never changed for the wicked.