Wildflower Stories

මේ කතාව කදු මුදුනෙ තනියම පිපුනු පුංචි කැළෑ මලක් වෙනුවෙන්, "දන්නවා ද ටේහ්‍යුන් , මේ පුංචි කැළෑ මලට විශේෂ බලයක් තියෙනවා කියලා. මේ පුංචි කැලෑ මල හදවත්වල තුවාල හොද කරලා ඒ කෙනාගෙ ජිවිතේම සුවද කරනවලු. " _JJK_ " ඒක ඇත්ත ජන්කුක්. ඒකනෙ කොහෙදෝ කන්දක තනියම පිපුණු පුංචි කැළෑ මලක් මගෙ ජීවිතෙත් සුවදින් පුරවව්වෙ" _KTH_

She wasn't a rose in a bouquet-she was a wildflower in full bloom, untamed and unapologetically herself. Walking down the aisle with bare feet and wind-kissed hair, she carried no script, only spirit. Her dress flowed like meadow grass, and her smile bloomed like sunlight after rain. She was not made to be picked or placed in a vase-she was made to grow wild and free, and love her way through the world.

𝚒𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚗, 𝚒𝚗 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚟𝚎, 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓭𝓯𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓻.

A story that exceeds the boundaries of space and time .A unique story that takes you on a journey In the life of this extraordinary girl and will surely speak to your heart for those who are willing to listen. THE WET SAND REMEMBERS FOOTPRINTS.

if you can talk to no one else, wildflowers make good company. to all the wildflowers out there, this is me. i am messy, scatterbrained, and a little broken. thoughts of a girl just trying to bloom.

The Bouquet, a sequel to Wildlfower, tells the story of Molly Carter's life in Chicago after her life-changing vacation in Melbourne. She comes home madly in love with Beau, with plans to see him as often as possible. However this peace of mind is destroyed when she is come to face a startling reality. She soon finds herself testing her love for Beau, the Janoskians and herself.

I dabble.

Moon lives a quiet life... but her mind does not. Every morning, she cycles to a hidden flower bed at the edge of town, a place she treats like a sanctuary. A place only she and an old man ever visit. A place filled with daisies... and secrets. But Moon's peaceful routine shatters when terrifying visions begin to haunt her-spring water turning to blood, flowers dripping red, memories she has spent years trying to bury rising like ghosts. Behind every hallucination lies a truth she refuses to face. Behind every daisy lies a guilt she cannot escape. And the old man who always seems to appear at the right moment... What does he really know? When Moon faints inside her apartment after seeing daisies bleed, long-buried memories come crashing back-memories of a friend named Amara, a tragic accident, and a promise Moon never kept. But the final twist will change everything: The old man was never just a stranger. He is Amara's grandfather... and the flower bed Moon keeps visiting is Amara's grave. As the truth surfaces petal by petal, Moon must confront the question she has feared her entire life: Is she being haunted... or is she haunting herself? A psychological mystery filled with symbolism, grief, guilt, and a slow-unfolding truth that will leave you breathless till the last line.

"I sipped the moonlight off her lips and stumbled home drunk" - Atticus read this while on your morning communte and glance out the window every so often. guaranteed to give you main character vibes.

"Love is a wild thing," "Meaning..?" "You shouldn't try to tame it."

A collection of amateurish poems written by me.

Charlotte Rothman had a pretty good life in Plentywood, Minnesota, even after her parents died, but then she started noticing weird signs in her best friend, Demetri. She found out the truth about her long time BFF, and months later she experienced her own changes. Drastic changes. Will she be able to live in this new world, or will she take the wrong turn and ruin everything?

Sloane Tate has everything money can buy and nothing she actually needs. Raised in the glare of Los Angeles wealth by parents who only notice her when she's in trouble, Sloane has learned how to be loud enough to be seen. One reckless night, one arrest too public to ignore, and her parents decide the solution is distance. They send her to Texas. To a quiet ranch outside Wimberley. To grandparents she barely knows. To a life that smells like dust, hay, and bacon in the mornings. Ember Ridge Ranch is nothing like the world Sloane came from. It's slower. Rougher. Honest in a way that makes her uncomfortable. And it comes with Rowan the ranch hand who lives on the edge of the property, keeps his distance, and looks at her like she's an inconvenience he didn't ask for. Rowan is all grit and restraint. Sun-worn hands. Sharp blue eyes. A jaw dusted with scruff that looks like trouble. He doesn't care who Sloane's parents are, doesn't fall for her city polish, and doesn't hide his irritation when she pushes his boundaries. They clash instantly. She thinks he's rude. He thinks she's spoiled. Neither wants to admit the tension sparking between them feels dangerous. As Sloane begins to soften under the Texas sun surprising even herself with how naturally she fits into ranch life but old secrets buried in the attic begin to surface. Papers she doesn't yet understand. Clothes that carry memories that don't belong to her. A yellow dress that rattles Rowan in a way he refuses to explain. And beneath it all, a past tragedy tied to Sloane's family threatens to unravel everything she's just beginning to build. Because Ember Ridge isn't just a place to hide. It's a place where the truth is waiting. And some things don't stay buried forever.

Wildflowers. You heard of them? You know, those wierd mutant flowers that always seem to grow in any way in any place it isn't expected too. Hence the name 'wild'. Well you see, I'm a wildflower. I am unpredictable, persistent, and, well, different. That's what war does to you. You see, before the war I was just like any other daisey in a meadow, or at least I tried to be- which was hard considering my...strange abilities. Oh, of course, the war. The war that could've prevented me from speaking with you now. A war that would've stopped you from living your normal, safe little life if it wasn't for a group of wildflowers. Now, I dont expect you to believe me. In fact, I probably sound like a lunatic, but I think it's better that way. We don't need another incident like the war. So, wether you think of this as fiction ora fact (suggest you pick fiction), let me tell you the story of how I, a 12 year old, born with a fortunate but unfortunate gift, and a few of my unsuspecting friends enter a new world. A world so different it would be hard for you to believe it were real. A world of magic. A world that is only open to distinct minds. A world of wildflowers.

There is a place she goes Where the wildflowers grow

We often think change is an ending. But sometimes, it's just the first bloom of something new. Like wildflowers in an open field, growth comes not through control but by letting go, being still, and allowing life to surprise us.

This is a little collection of poems all about growing through the tough stuff and finding your own kind of wild beauty. Hope it feels like a breath of fresh air whenever you need it. © purringpages | 2025 | Wattpad

loneliness and the fear of happiness; a journey of self-discovery and self worth.

"men have a nerve to play with a woman's heart, to convince her she is not beautiful the second he doesn't get his way, to convince her she is nothing to him, whilst her eyes are flooded with potential, and his are deep and empty, void." A poetry collection, which demonstrates the inside of a healing mind. A bundle of poems that demonstrate the discovery of self-worth and blossoming.