The Fears Within

Vine Time

Batonophobia - fear of plants

"Mark! Come on! We need to get to your grandfather's before noon!" His mother yelled up the stairs.

He was dreading it. Laying on his bed, ankles crossed slightly, staring up at the ceiling with his arms tightly pressed against his side. He really didn't want to go to his grandfathers. He'd been putting it off all day.

Mark's grandfather was a horticulturist, his entire house was filled with plant life. Dozens of plants, not including the giant greenhouse in his backyard, covered every surface of his house. Every time Mark's family went over to his grandfather's house, he stayed in the kitchen the entire time, the least plant-infested part of the house.

Mark hated plants.

They were so, so green. He hated what they looked like when they died. It was like having a dead person rotting in your house. It was gross. When the sunlight shined through the leaves it made them look a slimy and disgusting. Plus all the bugs and flies that they brought in. Mark shivered.

"MARK!"

"Coming!" He yelled weakly down the stairs.

He hadn't told his parents about his fear of plants. They actually thought he loved visiting his grandpa. Oh how wrong they were.

Mark got in the car reluctantly and buckled in next to his seventeen year old sister, Karen. Even though they were only two years apart, she thought she was so much more mature than him.

"You really shouldn't be late." She huffed disapprovingly, turning up her nose. "You know I actually got an award at my job once for being on time every day."

Mark muttered where she could shove her award as the car started up.

His grandfather's house was an hour drive from their house, so Mark started up his I-pod and watched the scenery fly by past his window.

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"Louise! Brad! Karen! Beautiful as ever. Oh my, and Mark, you've grown so much!" His grandfather hobbled his way down the porch steps, knees weak from age.

"Hi dad." Mark's mother walked over to his grandfather and gave him a big hug. "How're the plants doing? I know Mark is excited to see them!"

"As he should be! They've grown so much since you've been away." His grandfather said with a big smile, a proud look on his wrinkled face.

"Actually I..." Mark started.

"Come now, m'boy! Don't be shy! Let's go see my beauties now, huh?" His grandfather looked so excited that Mark couldn't say no.

They walked around to the back, the greenhouse windows were fogged up from the heat, but you could still see the shadows of the looming plants inside.

Inside they walked, and Mark shivered as he was surrounded by green leaves.

"My newest one, here." His grandfather smiled big, indicating a giant plant, with thick rope-like vines curling around the pot and onto the ground.

Mark swallowed as the plant seemed to move as if it were breathing. His grandfather proceeded to show him around to all the newest plants. Especially taking pride in the exotic ones. He had a whole section dedicated to South American plants.

 The whole tour took just over two hours. By the end of it Mark was on the verge of hyperventilating. He hurried out of the greenhouse and up to his room, the only room in the entire house not filled with plants.

Around 5 he walked downstairs for dinner. It went by fast, Mark eating as quickly as he could, eyeing the plants out of the corner of his eye.

He watched television in the living room until nine, trying to avoid looking at the plants. Then he ran upstairs and got ready for bed. We're leaving tomorrow, he tried to tell himself. Of course, that reasoning still didn't help the fact that he was scared out of his wits.

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Mark woke up around midnight, heart pounding. He had definitely heard a noise downstairs. Instead of staying in bed like a sane person would, he walked downstairs and into the kitchen. As he walked past the kitchen door he thought he heard the noise again, coming from outside.

The greenhouse.

Oh hell, no. Mark slowly turned the knob, trying to convince himself that he could just run outside and see what it was, then run back in.

The greenhouse door was cracked open a little and as he got closer, Mark eased it open another inch, daring himself to look. As soon as his head popped through the gap, he just about screamed. The vined plant was writhing all about the room, curling around other plants and tables, crushing the table legs, making them crash to the floor. The noise was muffled by the vines already coating the dirt-strewn floor.

Mark quickly backed away, but the plant heard him and darted one of its tendrils out at him, catching him around the neck.

This is crazy! He thought, struggling against the plant. How could it have heard me?

He beat weakly at the vines, most of them the thickness of a well-sized tree. Mark tried to yell, but the plant was taking all of his air, choking him.

Mark was terrified, he didn't want to die by a plant. He scraped his nails down the vine and it seemed to screech and loosen its hold on him. He dropped to the ground, clutching his neck and gasping for air. The vine was staying away from him for now. Mark crawled back to the door, still not able to scream. He was going to make it, he was going to live.

Then from somewhere behind him, his grandfather's voice rang out. "YOU HURT HER! YOU HURT MY BELOVED!"

Mark turned over to see his grandfather walking towards him, the plant wrapped around his arms and torso, spiraling down his legs. Mark would've screamed if he could've as he saw tiny lengths of the vine twisting into his grandfather's mouth and ears. His grandfather's eyes had turned a sickening shade of green, covering all the whites, pupils, and irises.

Mark's grandfather descended on him, "You hurt my Maria, you hurt her." His grandfather hissed, his voice not his own.

Maria? That was Mark's grandmother's name... What was going on?

Mark stared at his grandfather, confused. Then his expression turned to horror as his grandfather drew a knife, plunging it down into Mark's chest.

Mark gagged, blood trickling from his mouth as his eyes lolled. Blackness started to overcome him as he heard his grandfather whisper in his ear,

"You will never hurt my Maria again."