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Message to Readers

Hey, guys. This is my first piece of writing on this website so thanks for reading. This is a short story that I came up with when my best friend couldn't sleep and wanted me to tell a story. Any constructive criticism is cool and I hope you liked my short story. Once again, thank you for reading.

Flower Boy

February 27, 2019


    So maybe everyone isn't the same. So maybe there are people who fall and love and there are people who don't; maybe there are people with happily-ever-after endings and some with and-they-both-died endings. Maybe there are people who are stuck heartbroken at three am or feeling unloved at noon. Maybe there are people that live as optimists and people that live as realists. Maybe there are people who are made of stars and maybe there are people who are made of steel. Maybe we're all just not the same.
    Maybe this is true because once upon a time there was a boy who loved flowers. He loved the way they bloomed and the colors they showed with a mixture of sunlight. With fire red hair, curling like smoke in the air, and eyes a shade too dark, the boy was sure to be a picture of perfection, but he was the furthest from it. He loved and he loved and he loved, but that wasn't always approved by his family. His mother thought he'd grow out of it and his father knew he wouldn't. Thirteen years later proved the father correct, but he wasn't spiteful towards his son because so what if everyone isn't the same? The boy's mother on the other hand detested the boy's way of love; she just couldn't understand how he'd grown up this way because it was definitely not the way she had raised him. Despite her opinion and dislike, the boy grew on with his love and his father encouraged it. They photographed and sketched and study daisies, roses, sunflowers, lilies, pink ladies, all of them. The boy would sit outside, surrounded by dozens of wildflowers, and read, keeping his page with pressed petals. Although, he was usually alone, he rarely felt lonely; save those few nights that made him wish he was someone else.
    As the boy grew older, he met people, but they never stayed. Like many, he came to the conclusion that everyone leaves. Until the other boy came along.
    Bright eyes and sunshine hair, his family was sure he'd be a heart-breaker, but he was the furthest thing from it. This boy loved and loved and loved. Above all, though, he loved trees. His parents fell out of his life and he continued his love for trees; photographing and sketching and studying red woods, sequoias, evergreens, maple, willows, all of them. This boy would run outside and feel the wind through his hair; he'd sit outside, shaded by tall evergreens, and read, keeping his page with multicolored leaves. Even though this boy was usually alone, he rarely felt loneliness sink inside of him; save those few nights that made him wish he was someone else.
    Then the dark days came and loneliness did creep inside the two boys. They sat in the silence of night and watched the stars, tears making their marks on the boys faces. They sat and became overrun with what-if's and nobody-loves-me's; their dark thoughts threatened to leave a world with two less beautiful boys. One particularly dark day plunged both the boys into a hell they couldn't get out of, not with tree branches or flower stems. They were stuck and it seemed the only way to free themselves was to take the shine from their eyes and the beat from their hearts. 
    Flower boy walked to the riverside overrun with lilacs. They were his favorite after all.
    Tree boy walked to the riverside overrun with willows. They were his favorite after all.
    Both the boys lifted their pain, ready to strike it down on their hearts and kill the demons inside of themselves until they saw mirror images on opposite sides of the riverside. A boy with bright eyes, now dulled, and sunshine hair turned moon dust in the darkness of the night and a boy with fire-red hair and too dark eyes, now darkened to the shade of black above them in the sky. 
    They stared. They stared because it's not everyday you see someone ready to take their life like you are yours.
    "Why?" They both asked the question just loud enough to be heard over the rush of the river.
    "I never belonged here. I fell in love with flowers when I wasn't supposed to.. I just don't belong in this world; maybe I do somewhere else," answered the boy with too dark eyes.
    "I didn't either. I fell in love with trees when I was supposed to break hearts. I disappointed my family. I don't belong here, but maybe I do in the world you are thinking of," whispered the boy with now-dulled eyes.
    Their pain lowered at their sides, they looked at each other and the dark world that never accepted them, fell away. 
    "Maybe we could belong. We could belong here together." Flower boy took a step towards the river, unafraid to cross it for the boy he had just met.
    "Maybe we could." Tree boy took a step toward the river, letting the rush of it drown out all the voices in his head.
    Together they walked. Together they entered the river. Together they felt the what-if's and no-one-loves-me's dissolve. Together they walked down the river to a field where lilacs and willows met. Together, hands intertwined, they sat, backs leaning against the bark of a willow with lilacs growing around them.
    Maybe they could belong in the world were no one is the same. 


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  • February 27, 2019 - 3:21pm (Now Viewing)

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