Perfect (Watty Awards 2013)

Chapter 6.25: Roots Before Branches

Chapter 6.25: Roots Before Leaves

        The butterflies flatter the amaryllises that censure the air in delight. It was breath taking. The flamboyance sways pride in every angle we see.

              We desire to be someone, to have a future, to hold our dreams and say to the world “This is me”. Those things die and wither since the time will have a grip on their shoulders. They will fall from our branch and burn in the depths of the rough perennial grass.

              “Build yourself with your heart and move on with your mind.”

              Roots stay as where they are. They bury and make themselves be remembered and support us till our endless time being in our souls. Roots build the tree. It nurtures it. Yet somewhat, it’s the ugliest, the most complex but somehow, the strongest and vulnerable.

              …

              “Losing my chances in NYAAS is not that bad. I won. I, with Ethan and Rachelle, took home the bacon from the Science Bowl,” Enid recalled. “I wonder when she’ll come back from her temporary transfer last year.”

              The bells rang.

              “Hey Tristanny!” She ran. “Any news?”

              “Well, your friend Rachelle is back and I didn’t get the solo for the number.”

              “Oh really! When? Either way, why? Why didn’t you get it? What’s the reason by now?” she threw tons of questions.

              Tristanny gawked at her in confusion and narrowed her eyes to try to understand Enid’s enthusiasm.

              Her purple friend pouted her lips like an infant who craved to be understood through her cry. “Why didn’t you get it?”

“I don’t know. Ms. Harmony said it’s broadway and my voice was terrible at it,” she gloomily explained.

              “But you just showed them your voice is vulnerable. Y-Y-You showed them! Right? Besides, what’s their taste? A-A-Another… a-a-another operatic singer?” Enid tried to convince her that Tristanny’s voice was one of a kind.

              Her eyebrows convexly dug out fossils of grief and impassion. Gravity forcefully pulled her lips down to the auburn tiles. She took her headphones off of her braided bangs. Several strands of hair peeked out and damaged her neatly tied hair.

              Enid was powerless to life those tips of Tristanny’s lips. Hers, imitated the gesture and continued walking.

              “Hey flirt,” a voice passed Enid as a wild “kind” greeting.

              She followed the source with a pair of glaring eyes that paralyzed the imbecile. She let go of Tristanny’s hand and the three books she held. It fell and scattered freely and messily over the auburn square tiles.

              “What?” the source complained as it shook Enid’s hand off of her shoulder.

              “What what?” Enid raged and slapped her. “I have had enough, of being isolated and I wasn’t expecting that my entrance to the real world would be a hard slap on your face, Vivienne!”

              “That wasn’t your entrance route, Enid. It was your making out session with Sebastian,” Sara teased, rubbing Enid’s light plant of wrath. “If you want another slap on my face, better prepare for a dozen. There are six of us and you’re only one.” Sara looked behind Enid. “And you also brought another idiot behind you. Wow. You really have that nerve,” Vivienne laughed.