The Girl Who Ate the Flowers

A few miles outside of town was a beautiful field of purple flowers; vibrant, lively, danced in the wind, unbothered by human contact. The field was breathtaking, acres of thousands upon thousands of Lavender. It is such a simple flower, nothing quite extravagant like the Sunflower or delicate like the Rose, but it held an unbeatable beauty. Loved by bees, photographers, and nature-lovers, the flower was a pure symbol for nature. Sharing the land with trees and animals, the Lavender lived a simple, untouched life. Sometimes, however, that peace would be interrupted.

Through the field walked a girl, her fingers dragging along the tops of the flowers as she made her way deeper into the flowers. She stood out amongst them, clearly out of place, but she felt truly at home. The Lavender welcomed the guest eagerly, parting in the wind to provide a path, excited to meet someone other than bees or birds. She had walked further, listening, careful with her steps, making sure she didn't step on any living thing. Wind pushed Lavender on her legs, blew her hair around her face, and made the leaves rustle like sheets of paper rubbing against each other.

That's when the girl stopped (as she realized her mistake) and looked around at her surroundings. Paper rubbing against paper isn't the sound leaves make when rubbing against another leaf 一 it's the other way around. She furrowed her brows. The world came before the people, the trees came before the paper, and the leaves came before the sounds of paper. The girl shook her head, feeling dumb for putting humans before the Earth once again. It was a habit 一 a bad one at that 一 that everyone suffered from. She had been trying to break it, but it was easier said than done. It's hard to break a habit that started decades ago.

Releasing a held breath, she picked up her steps again. The field was sloping downhill now, allowing her to see its largeness. She felt minuscule compared to the rows of Lavender, the color purple filling her sight. Nature is so colossal that it is hard to fathom at times; it's at every inch of the planet. Humans and plants and animals, forests and deserts and the ocean, the sky and the clouds, caves and caverns. No matter where we looked, life or sights were looking back. It was strange to think that humans, one of the most prevalent parts of nature, who always preach about loving the outdoors, were at the heart and soul of its demise.

People had been so conditioned to care about themselves more than others or the world that the Earth slowly deteriorated and reclaimed itself. Earthquakes, tornadoes, hurricanes: they appeared all across the globe, destroying buildings, homes, and lives. There truly was no way to escape the hellish chaos that was happening. While a hurricane was happening in one state, tornadoes rampaged viciously throughout another. It felt like an apocalypse was inching closer with each hour.

The girl recalled sitting in her math class one day during her sophomore year, the sky outside nearly pitch black. Rain slammed against the roof, the only sound in the room coming from overhead. Outside, the wind blew violently enough to snap the trees in the courtyard, scoot the picnic tables, and knock tree limbs into the school building. Lights were flickering overhead and flash flood warnings popped up on phone screens every five minutes. Teachers were trying to teach their class, but students were either too busy texting their parents to get them or too distracted by the windows.

Compared to others, the girl was fearful. But her friends kept cracking jokes on how if the school floods they'll be out for a while. She laughed along anxiously, but in the back of her mind, she was terrified. Storms like this weren't common, at least until recently. Perhaps she was thinking too much into it, focusing on the bads rather than the neutrals or goods. But she couldn't push the away anxiety that had settled in her gut. When a tornado warning came up on phone screens, (nearly) the whole school went into a bewildered panic.