𝑺𝑴𝑬𝑹𝑨𝑳𝑫𝑶

Petal 1 - 𝐼'𝑚 𝐶𝑙𝑖𝑚𝑏𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝐹𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒

❀

I remember when I was young, my mother used to come into my room before I head off to sleep and read me this book about a mysterious flower that, unfortunately, didn't exist.

I don't exactly remember the flowers name, but I do remember the way my mother used to describe it in words to me. It was known as a beautiful and breathtaking flower that was made for a special person and for that special person only. Its colors were a graceful blend of blue, pink, purple, and white, making it look gentle and clean. The petals were pointed at the tip, but not pointed enough to prick ones finger.

It was even said that the petals of one flower were so soft that it felt as if you were caressing a baby's face. It seemed that much of a special flower.

Don't you ever sometimes just get that feeling inside your chest that somehow, somewhere, sometime, that fairy tale may have been reality elsewhere?

That's how I feel about this particular flower.

To this day, I still wonder what had happened to that book of mine. Since I didn't know the name of the book or the flower, I couldn't search any information about it online.

Now, I've become a young journalist who's ready to share many, many stories about the world around me. I've been wanting to write a report about the flower but again, I simply can't-due to the fact that I've forgotten most about it. But I still hope that one day, as I look back at my memories, I'll be able to figure out what this particular flower was called and be able to share it to people on my account.

On a daily basis, all I do is continuously type. There's multiple stories spreading across the internet and all around us that we rarely miss an update. Whether something new is about to launch or there's an unexpected celebrity that drops into town. Luckily, my editor and I are close friends from back in high school and so she understands and knows not to put so much pressure on me as I work.

Outside of my sliding glass doors leading to the balcony, I could hear the sound of a piece of wood falling to the ground. Curiously, I put my laptop down on the couch and walked over to see what had fallen. Sliding one of the doors aside, I entered my balcony and looked around. I then looked over to my neighbors yard to see that he had been painting once again.

I scanned the beautiful work on the canvas carefully, looking at each natural detail. The painting had shown a beautiful garden in what seemed to be surrounded by a brick wall. A girl who's back was turned towards the viewer was picking up the flowers from the garden and placing them inside her small basket. Her figure seemed familiar, but I can't exactly point it out.

It was only when I took a small glance away from the painting when I saw my neighbor spread out on the grass and laying unconsciously, his wooden palette laying next him as well. I let out a gasp and my eyes widened.

"Hey! Are you okay, sir! Hello! Are you okay?", I asked frantically, cupping my mouth to make it seem louder. But when I received no response from the man and I quickly exited my balcony and out of my house.

Hastily making my way to his front steps, I started knocking fast to see if there was anyone else inside the house that I could inform, but unfortunately no one came up to the door. I looked around to see if anyone else had been walking the streets but not a single soul was outside other than me at this moment.