MARCH 2, 2018
She fell asleep in that field again.
It was a normal occurrence. That field was more like home than her actual home. It made her feel whole almost. Almost.
She enjoyed the field, it was nice. That's probably obvious by now. How ironic, she felt more at home in a flower field and her name was Rose. Maybe it was meant to be, her and the field.
The girl awoke to the sound of screeching birds and thundering clouds. It was about to storm--an electric storm at that. Another thing she loves; storms. They showed that not only people needed to let out a little rage once in a while. After all, everyone has a side deep inside them they sometimes don't even realize is there.
She dug her nails into the ground as she reluctantly sat up. Her hair was caked with dirt and her dress was ruined now. Not that it mattered, she had plenty dresses. She had plenty of things she didn't need.
The petty girl looked up at the crying skies above her and allowed a little smile to morph her lips. Rain, so pretty. Lightening struck across the skies and the girl took it as a way of saying it was time to go to her house.
Not her home, her house.
This, right where she is, is her home. Her house was just a place where her family lives, a place for shelter and food. She didn't mind.
She looked at the soaked flowers once more before wondering off to her house.
YOU ARE READING
HOW TO TOUCH A ROSE
Short StorySTEP ONE; approach with caution. STEP TWO; reach out slowly STEP THREE; Say its okay STEP FOUR; Pick rose up STEP FIVE; display rose and watch rose wither away ___ She was broken. Could she be broken anymore?
