Lady, You Don't Need to See

Too Many Flowers to Cut Down

Sitting bolt upright in bed, a wave of intuition crashed over Cordelia. Hot sweat clung to her frame and caused her sheer nightgown to adhere to her skin. What was it? She couldn't remember the dream that had stirred her awake. A chill tingled up her spine. All of the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Something wrong is going on. Cordelia swung out of bed and grabbed her cane from where she had left it right beside the nightstand. Fumbling around with her robe, she tied it around herself, and then she padded out of her room.

The cold hardwood floor bit into the soles of her feet. Cordelia pressed a hand on the wall. There. She Saw it, the wisp of clothing, feet on the stairs—and then she heard it, thrumming through the walls, footsteps drumming down the stairs toward the back exit. Someone's leaving! Cordelia marched down the stairs. "Who's there?" She didn't want to disturb the other sleeping witches, but the wispy dress escaping alarmed her. They needed all of the witches to perform the task of the Seven Wonders. The coven was lost without its leader. Until they discovered the identity of the next Supreme, Cordelia couldn't risk losing any of them.

The staircase proved an obstacle, but not insurmountable for Cordelia, as her bare feet followed the fleeing witch. She Saw the figure retreating out the back door and into the yard, leaving it open—the sound of Cordelia's voice had spooked the witch, and she fled down the porch and into the dewy grass of the late hour. Cordelia stumbled after her. She was less certain with her bare feet as she touched down in the overgrown lawn. Where has the gardener been? "Come back! Wait!"

Sliding through the mud, she stumbled and dropped her cane, but as she felt around for it, she found nothing but a stick. Drawing herself back upward, Cordelia plodded onward, her back to the chilly night wind which cut through the sheer material of her gown. "Wait!" She staggered onward. Her feet slapped the earth. She prayed the impact of her soles upon the ground would frighten off any snakes lying in wait for her. The witch, however, did not slow. "Wait—"

The low-hanging branches of the tree in the backyard whipped Cordelia's face. "Oh, fuck." The branches tangled up into her hair with their twigs ripping it all askew. Leaves showered around her. Her hands reached up to try to battle her way out. The splinters dug into the tender skin of her face. Sharp tugs at her scalp made her grow still under its reach. Desperate fists tore at her hair, trying to free it. Her toes curled into the dirt and grass with frustration.

Footsteps approached her. She paused, both hands on the branch. "Miss Cordelia?" Misty's voice broke the silence of the night birds and the insects chattering away at the moon. "You're all tangled up." In spite of the circumstances, Misty didn't hesitate to touch her. She reached out and grabbed Cordelia's wrists, batting them away to work on her hair. "What are you doing out here all by yourself?"

The touch brought visions to Cordelia's Sight—Misty, running away, fleeing into the night. She tucked her hair into a hoodie at the side of a highway and stuck out her thumb, hiding her face in case anyone recognized her, and then she crawled into the bed of an old truck driven by a cowboy and asked for a trip back to the swamp. She wants to run away. "I—I could ask you the same thing." I was chasing you, and clearly my ability to chase is not optimal anymore.

"You already know what I was doing, don't you?"

Cordelia hesitated. Misty was right. She already knew. "Why?" she asked instead. "We need you."

With gingerly fingers, Misty plucked the dry, broken twigs off of the branch one by one and allowed Cordelia's hair to fall back around her shoulders, filled with twigs, splinters, and thorns but otherwise untouched. Once all of her locks were free and Cordelia could move again, Misty took the blonde hair into her hands under the moonlight and plucked the tiny wood pieces out of her hair one by one. "Nah, you don't." Cordelia wanted to reach out and grab Misty's face. She restrained herself. "I appreciate what you did for me, Miss Cordelia, beyond words... But I let one of y'all get away with killing me once. Once is enough. I'm going home." Misty paused with her hands in her hair. "Would you like me to walk you back upstairs?"