Groomed for Death ⚜ A TPN Fanfiction

~The Bloody Roses Incident~

[ Narrator's Perspective ]

Ninelie's headaches, caused by anemia, intermittently relented, offering her brief chances to engage with her family. These precious moments were rare, save for her interactions with Ray, her first friend in Grace Field.

Ray was engrossed in a project, absorbed in his work alongside the other children in the library. As they delved into their books, the soft scratch of pencils against paper resonated through the air.

This time, Ninelie found herself alone, nestled beneath the shade of a sprawling tree. Its ancient roots embraced her like old friends, grounding her in solitude.

   'If only Vince were here...'

Her gaze wandered to the scene unfolding before her – older children playfully guiding the young ones through the forest, their laughter harmonizing with the rustling leaves. A bittersweet ache tugged at her heart.

Ninelie's youthful eyes descended to the tree's gnarled roots, serving as highways for an industrious army of black ants. Mesmerized, she observed their disciplined march, finding their tiny forms oddly endearing. Time seemed to slow as she traced their orderly progression, until the fragility of existence crushed two ants beneath careless steps.

   "Hi, Ninelie." 

Raising her eyes, Ninelie encountered Norman's gentle smile, an unexpected presence. He stood before her, clutching a vibrant bouquet of roses in his hands.

"I got these for you, Nina!"

His voice held the whisper of a secret breeze, laden with anticipation. As he knelt, his offering extended, Ninelie accepted the gift, though the weight of its significance eluded her in that moment.

Gratitude overwhelmed her, words failing to capture the depth of her emotions. She was entranced by the gesture, Norman's actions defying his usual demeanor. Only later would she realize the rarity of such a display.

   "Thank you, Norman—right?"

A soft chuckle escaped Norman's lips, accompanied by the musical cadence of his voice, "That's right, my name is Norman," he smiled. 

Their fingers intertwined around the bouquet, a gentle gesture that evolved into an unexpected intensity as Norman's palms pressed against hers. A sensation akin to a dance unfolded, one that urged her to tighten her grip on the roses. Yet, the thorns dug into the paper, breaching its confines and meeting her skin with a sudden, stinging pain.

Ninelie's breath caught, her eyes widening as droplets of crimson splattered the ground, a stark contrast to the verdant surroundings. Panic welled within her, stifling her voice as she struggled to free herself from the thorny embrace.

   "You know, Emma was talking about you earlier," Norman revealed, his voice tender as he held her gaze. "She wanted to talk to you, but she was worried you might be scared."

   "I'm not scared of her though, does she really want to-"

   "That's great to hear!" Norman's smile grew, a beacon of encouragement amidst her distress. 

The thorns continued their relentless assault, piercing her skin with growing determination. Ninelie's desperation heightened, and she made a futile attempt to pull away from the grip that held her hands captive.

   "You're just a stranger in this House, Nina. You shouldn'tforget that you don't belong here. Honestly, you're such a...nuisance. "

Desperation welled up within her as she attempted to disentangle her hands from Norman's firm grasp. The thorns' intrusion had escalated, burying themselves halfway into her fingers.

   "Oh, sorry," Norman withdrew his hands, and Ninelie hastily retreated, her fingers trembling as she attempted to remove the thorns.

A bitter smile twisted his lips as he turned to leave. "I hope Emma forgets about you when you take a year off."

The ground seemed to sway beneath her, and Ninelie crumpled to her knees, the world spinning around her. Her hands, adorned with the tainted roses, bled onto the soil below.

The ensuing year became a period of isolation as Ninelie battled sporotrichosis, the rose handler's disease. Throughout her recovery, Isabella's nurturing presence was the sole companion she encountered. Isolated, she reconciled with the truth that Norman's sentiment toward her was far from fond. Norman had hated her the moment she was brought into the House by Isabella.