Writing Dumps

Ib

Heavy footsteps and the flutter of a coat whipping behind him was all Garry could hear. His purple hair fell into his left eye, he didn’t care.
He needed to get away from this place, this art gallery.
Guertena’s gallery.
He had gone there to see his exhibit, and now he was here. He was terrified. The paintings had tried to kill him. His grip tightened on the blue rose he held in his hands. The petals wilted and drooped, and he knew that he was extremely close to dying. His entire body hurt -- he needed to get away and find a vase. He needed to make sure the rose would be okay.
He tripped, the rose flying out of his hands. He rose onto his knees as a portrait of a lady in a red dress crawled forward, towards his rose. He lunged for it --
Too late. The lady grabbed it, giggling as she ripped off a petal. Pain shot through Garry’s body, and he screamed, clutching his chest, falling onto his side. His heart thudded wildly, and he felt tears trickling down his cheeks. He clenched his teeth tightly as another ripple of pain coursed through his body.
“Hey, mister. Are you okay?” He looked up slightly, vision blurring from the pain of moving his neck.
A girl in a white blouse and a red skirt was kneeling by him, her large red eyes crinkled in worry. A red, wilted rose was clutched in her hand, her long brown hair falling and brushing his forehead. Garry felt his body shaking as he struggled to form words. The girl reached out to him, touched his shoulder.
“A-ah!” Garry writhed, trying to keep the pain from growing worse. The girl pulled her hand away, eyes wide and afraid. She stood up, looking down at him. Then she was gone.
Garry cursed softly, struggling to try to stand. Another ripple of pain, and he was back on the ground. He groaned, his body trembling…
Then, just like that, the pain -- it was gone. Garry let out a shaky breath as he let his body relax. A shaking hand tapped his shoulder. Garry looked up.
It was the girl from before, her rose more damaged than before, a single petal hanging from the stem. She knelt down shakily, and she held out his blue rose. It was healthy, the petals big and bright and blue. Garry reached out a hand, and took it carefully from the girl. He stood up, and the girl craned her neck to look at him.
“You didn’t need to do this, uh…?”
“...Ib.” The girl’s trembling grew worse. He quickly told her his name. Garry grabbed her hand; she flinched.
“Ib, you need to get to a vase of water.”
“I.. used the vase for your rose. It looked really bad…” Garry started moving, his worry growing for this girl - Ib - that he had just met.
~~~~~
He placed Ib’s red rose into the vase. The flower grew bright, its petals growing back and spreading out. He took it out, handed it to her. She let a small smile form on her scared, tight face.
“Thank you, Garry.” Garry smiled.
“No problem. Let’s get out of here together, okay?” Ib nodded.
“Yeah!”

*****
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