The Fallen Roses of Elizabeth Grey

The Withering

She stood above the rest, she was an anxious piece of shit that always got what she wanted because it was simple... she was the favorite. She got all the water she wanted, all the utensils that properly take care of her devious, pesky annoying self. She was her own form of evolution, tiring the other to a full potential of a rot. She was the pride of their family even though no pride was to be gained due to the fact that the bitch was on top. But, unfortunate for her, Winter was coming and this was her first encounter. She was certain that she would be clear as the God picked out the ones who were worthy. "No worries," she repeats to herself as she sees the others being plucked. Winter arrives and she is out of hope and notices that she is the only one standing, alone, when the first dot of snow creased across her arm. "No!" she thought. "Why, why, why must be this happen!" She is freezing and fights to keep her head lifting, the cold raping her of her energy, the coldness keeping her away from looking up. "No I won't quit!" she proclaims as another flake drops on her. Then she looks up and she weeps. The others stared at her under the window, snickering, laughing, teasing her as she shuttered as she fought for the remaining warmness that surged within her thin veins. They stare at her, all warmed and cozy, laughing hysterically at her pain and suffering. "Please." she whispers ever so softly. "Help me." But the laughing continued. Then she did something she never expected to do... she gave up. She let herself go as she felt herself deform and begin to be smashed against the impact of the ice and wind that began to produce. She whispers, murmurs prayers as she is beaten into the ground and she snaps. She feels herself becoming ever more so weak as she choked out. "Why does it have to be me?" Then, staring at her once a upon a time surroundings she plummeted into darkness.