MAD HATTER ; school for good & evil

03 | the great mistake

MAD HATTER !
( school for good and evil    &&&    sge!various x reader )

CHAPTER THREE : the great mistake

YOU AWOKE FOR THE FOURTH, AND FINAL TIME. You were greeted by a plethora of red and yellow lilies, several of which, to your wonder, appeared to be sharing an animated conversation; their leaves and buds brusquely gestured your way.

Eyes shortly doubling in size, you sucked in a sharp breath, shooting up. "My apologies" You muttered like a mantra; you'd never meant to hurt them. Not in your wildest dreams did you wish to hurt something so beautiful.

Although. . . the image of them dried and unsaturated did momentarily cross your mind. Not exactly dead, but not exactly alive either. They would still look so lovely, you mused, just like Emily's bouquet from your favourite tale.

But that thought left quickly as it came, catching a glimpse of your sister, who was being yanked to her feet by the same flowers that now seemed to dote on you, charmed.

Agatha was absolutely mortified as she gazed out at a field of girls, blooming gloriously around the shimmering lake before her. She'd barely even caught sight of you, until you began waving in her general direction, causing her to hurdle your way.

Reaching your side, she clutched tightly onto your arm, her eyes despairingly meeting yours, as if to question her sanity (though you may not have been the best person to ask, had that been the case). She couldn't believe what she was witnessing. Girls sprouted right from the earth. First heads poked through the soft dirt, then necks, then chests, then up until their arms stretched into the fluffy blue sky and planted delicate slippers upon the ground.

"It's alright," You answered her silent question, voice dreamy as usual, "You're not going mad or anything. I can see them too."

"Can you now?" asked Agatha desperately, half-mocking and half-pleading. She could see the shimmers of the lake reflected in your wide, silvery eyes. "Oh yes, don't worry."

"You're just as sane as I am." You smiled faintly, unnerving your sister even more.

While she tried to piece whatever remnants of reality she had left, you took in the sight before you. The sprouting girls, while looking nothing like you or your sister, were the textbook definitions of beautiful.

Their faces, some fair, some dark, were smooth and flawless, shining bright with no sign of blemishes in sight. Their skin glowed with health, and their hair shone like waterfalls, ironed and curled as they rolled down their backs. They wore downy dresses of peach, yellow, and white, reminding you much of the Easter eggs you would find and (attempt to) raise into hatchlings.

As the field flourished with new students, a team of three glitter-winged fairies came flying in, and went to greet each one — yourself included. Chiming and chinkling, they dusted the girls of dirt, poured them cups of honeybush tea, and tended to their trunks, which had sprung from the ground with their owners.

Where exactly these beauties were coming from, Agatha hadn't the faintest idea. You, on the other hand, thought straight to the Flowerground network that two of your friends had fondly blabbered to you about (they weren't the least bit interested in the topic until they caught the glimmer of interest in your eyes, though you didn't have to know that).

An endless bloom of Sophies fills the field, the thought of your friend, momentarily breaking you out of your reverie and straightening upright. Sophie wasn't there. You stood on your toes and cupped your hands around your eyes, hoping desperately to find your friend, all the while knowing the bitter truth.