ILLICIT DESIRES | 18 +

04: Withering

🇲🇽 MEXICO 🇲🇽

RITA

All Children of Mother Nature Have Two Sides.

It's bound deep within the seed, and when the fertile womb of Mother breeds, it may grow:

Rotten and pure.
Rebellious and compliant.
Dominant and submissive.

Two sides rooted in one seed. One seed with two sides. Which side dominates decides the matrix — yet the seed always holds two personas.

That's how twisted our nature is.

That's how unfair nature is.

Being a woman makes me the weaker sex. Being the daughter of a morbid man, I'm forced into submission. Because Father thwarts every attempt I make to break free from his matrix.

His mind is too sharp to be defeated, and I know he will strike the moment I rebel. Even the slightest objection sets him bellowing.

Father loves to confine me.

I long for freedom, but wishes don't come true just by blowing on a dandelion. My future feels enshrouded in his will.

And Father wants me gone.

He decided it's time for me to be plucked from home — and he has chosen the hand for marriage.

I sigh.

I don't want to leave my place and space. The beautiful and deadly hues of flowers that adorn every corner of my room.

If I want to remain nestled in the quiet comfort of my abode — my little garden, the only home I've ever truly known — I must find a way to gently persuade Father to let this plan wither away.

So I've carefully nurtured a plan of my own. I've always been bright and quietly ambitious — qualities he tends to see as thorns.

My growing knowledge unsettles him, it always has. So, he flatlined my education after high school, determined to stop my independence from growing.

But, one seed can still hold two traits, even one of them is suppressed. Being dominated by Father, I still didn't simply bend. I rebelled in the dark, enrolling myself in college online, away from his watchful eyes.

And I've reached my goal. I hold a Bachelor's degree in Economics now. In another world, that might earn me bouquets of praise. But in mine, I guard this truth carefully, afraid of how it might be received.

I wish my brother were here. I need his support. But he cannot be. Mother Nature took him — he rests in peace, deceased.

Without my brother, I feel only solitude.

My only companions are the plants in my room — my mental support. Maybe I'm ditzy, but talking to my flowers feels better than talking to myself.

"I got this..."

The copy of my degree rests on my lap. I won't risk him tearing the original in case my little coaxing — to prove we don't need a male ambassador for his companies — backfires.

I am nervous.

The floral scent doesn't calm me. My palms sweat. Beads gather beneath my arms.

With a deep breath, I try to keep my composure and a calm face as I enter the bathroom. But inside, my guts twist and knot with apprehension.

My hands grip the edges of the sink, knuckles white from anxiety. I exhale and close my eyes briefly.

"Mother Nature, give me strength..."