Between a Flower and Thieves, or In Its Grip

a true story, names, places, and other nouns have been changed to protect those involved.

In Its Grip

 

            I have returned! But a difference is clear, where once grew a beautiful flower, now a hole in the ground has appeared. Not a space that has been dug out and not a weathered wind-blow hole, but one that has fallen like a sinkhole…I realized, a sinkhole! I rushed up as quickly as can be to peer and see what I could see, and down in that sinkhole she was there, a flower as pretty as can be. But, surrounding her there and huddled in the dark, I saw the things and thieves that fed upon her spark. I see them all enjoying her and her dimly glowing light; she: the only source of warmth and beauty in the coldness of their ugly lives.

            “Flower!” I shout.

            “Sunshine.” She whispers.

            “Let me lift you up!”

            “No!” she screams.

            “Why?” I ask.

            “Because, it is you I wish not to corrupt.”

            And, from the dark its hand came forth to caress her with poisonous intent, it’s then I see upon her leaves the poison it had left.

            “Do not touch me, Sunshine, for I am dangerous to you now. These others here that surround me near are used to the poisons drop, but you I know are not, so heed my plea and stay your distance, please?!”

            It is then a thief stands in between us and is driven mad by my shining light, and he rushes to grab the beautiful flower, gripping her menacingly tight. He tugs at her this way and that, desperate to keep for himself what was left of her light. Now, I reach to grasp and get a hold, and loudly she screamed.

            “NO!”

            And we both, thief and I let go. As he scurries back in to the dark to nurse his thorn-made wounds, I stand and breathe and with burning I seethe; a poisonous daze dimming my light to a gloom.

            “Sunshine?” She calls as I come to, “You mustn’t stay here, this place is not for you. You must go back to the sky.” She pleads with tears in her eyes.

            “Come with me, Flower, and grow with me there, under the sky where once you did bloom.”

            “I cannot.” She answers.

            “Why?” I still ask.

            “Because, all those who love me are doomed!”

            “Remember, when last we crossed paths? I left both broken and strewn. Well, now I’m back with my light still intact, now I’ve come back for you!”

            “I am lost to you!” She said. “I am lost to me,” she cried. “I am lost down here forever, never to see the sky.”

            “Trust in me, dear Flower, as hard as it may be.”

            “I trusted you, dear Sunshine! And, still you fled from me!”

            “The time had come for me to set! To heal my fractured light! The night was long for you, I know, but now has come our time to rise!”

            But, how can she believe in me when already once I said that I would stay, yet, I left her all alone in the night, for I could only shine at day? How can she believe in me? How can she Believe? I wish she could believe in me. I wish she could believe!

            “I must get out of this hole first and then I can go from there. I need to rise up higher than before and not give in to the despair. Hold fast, hold strong dear Flower, and keep company with care. Hold fast, hold strong dear Flower, under the sky again you will be there. I will beam so brightly that you will grow yourself out of this hole, I will beam and you will grow, and again under the sky you will glow.”