floriography [ stories five ]

cards || one

[ okie dokie welcome back to me ripping off of some decent books

⚠️- language, eventual character death, injury, weapons, gore, etc

okay this switches pov after the four dashes so in order it's lewis then bailey thank you

stay safe,
lew. ]
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Day 0, the flood.

The last thing I expected in my shitty little rural town was a fucking flood.

Sure, ever since we moved to live with my grandparents, the culverts underneath driveways tended to get clogged with excess tree debris, and back the ditch line water up into the yard and over the driveway. But an actual flood was never on my radar.

The day had started out just like any other.

My grandma came downstairs and flicked the light on and off repeatedly to drag me out of bed. I'd been hearing these weird-ass voices late last night, so I did the only thing I knew how to do: get drunk and pass out.

The hearing voices shit had been happening for a month or two. Occasionally, I'd hear other people, saying the same phrase over and over again. Each separate voice had its own phrase, and it was starting to freak me the fuck out.

Like the boy who sounded like he'd barely even started puberty, saying "Red of tooth and claw". Or the soft feminine voice that called, "Terror from the abyss". Or a clear, high-pitched tone telling me, "Don't look at this hand, look at that one". Or the deep male voice, "Next to me, everything is shadow".

In light of all this shit, I enlisted the help of my good buddy Captain Morgan and drank until I passed out.

But I regretted that decision as soon as Grandma started her typical light show. I groaned and sat up, covering my eyes with a hand. "I'm awake, please stop."

"We're gonna go work on the ditch before the water gets too high," she said cheerfully, leaving the lights on. "You can either stay in here and clean up or come outside and help."

"I'll clean up your workshop. Let me get some breakfast first."

"Don't forget to—"

"I know, Grandma. Don't worry."

—

After heading upstairs to get some leftover pizza out of the fridge, I went back down to the basement. Grandma's workshop, my brother's bedroom, and my room were the main things down here.

Grandma's space was filled with artificial flowers, along with all her gardening books and extra seeds. She always wanted me to sort out the ones that got mixed together, because somehow I could always figure out what they were.

I put away a bunch of random shit she had out before sitting on top of her desk to examine the seeds. Her chair was fucking uncomfortable, and the concrete floor was cold.

I opened the drawer to find envelopes, but instead, I found an old book, one that had a handmade feel to it. Right now, my head felt like it was in a blender, so that thing was coming with me when I left to go back to bed.

But when I looked down, there had to be at least an inch of water on the floor. In a panic, I grabbed that book and the jar of seeds, tossing both in a tote bag that had been hanging by the door.

When I got upstairs, my grandparents and brother were inside, out of breath from running. "Basement's got a couple inches of water. Is that normal for when it rains?"

"No."

"Shit, this isn't good." Grandpa began pacing, hands in his hair. "Can either of you boys swim?"