acidpop25: "Roses," PG
Title: Roses
Author: acidpop25
Rating: PG
Prompt Set: 100.1
Prompt: #39, "Hunger"
Word Count: 325
Summary: "Hot sun today, beating on my skin, and soon I'll be the colour of the roses he loves so much."
Warnings: Um, none, really. A little bit of blood.
Notes: I love this piece. I'm insanely proud of the voice and style.
Daddy is in the garden, but he's not looking for anything more extraordinary than weeds right now. Hot sun today, beating on my skin, and soon I'll be the colour of the roses he loves so much. He feeds them water and fancy plant food, but I think they grow so well because he loves them. Love can feed anything, from roses to people to hate.
"Daddy?"
"Hey there, Lu. Have a nice nap?"
"Mmhm." The earth beneath my knees is cracked and dry, grass brown and spiky, and if I were to fall I bet it would peel the skin right from my knees like you peel a sticker off paper when it's already been stuck, and it's ragged and the tear is uneven, only paper doesn't bleed. But maybe to the paper there's still that same sting, acid-hot and twinging like scolding not to do that again. Who knows what paper feels?
"It's too hot to be working outside."
Daddy has such a nice smile. "Go inside and get a drink, little moon."
"Too warm to stay in."
"Luna..."
"Come with me."
"Sweetie, I'm working on the garden."
"I'm not going unless you come with." I need more love than the roses; there is more of me to fill.
"In a minute, go on."
I wonder if Daddy ever understood why I tore one of his roses out by the roots. The petals were red, so red, and I had petals bubbling up from my skin where I grabbed recklessly at the stem. See, look, Daddy, I have that same red as your roses. I have petals, too, but they are still inside of me, maybe I'm a bud. A rosebud. But opening hurts, Daddy, is it supposed to hurt, can you fix it? Fix it for me, please, I'm so so hungry, but not for the little finger sandwiches you gave me at lunch.
I'm such a beautiful flower, Daddy, aren't I?
Author: acidpop25
Rating: PG
Prompt Set: 100.1
Prompt: #39, "Hunger"
Word Count: 325
Summary: "Hot sun today, beating on my skin, and soon I'll be the colour of the roses he loves so much."
Warnings: Um, none, really. A little bit of blood.
Notes: I love this piece. I'm insanely proud of the voice and style.
Daddy is in the garden, but he's not looking for anything more extraordinary than weeds right now. Hot sun today, beating on my skin, and soon I'll be the colour of the roses he loves so much. He feeds them water and fancy plant food, but I think they grow so well because he loves them. Love can feed anything, from roses to people to hate.
"Daddy?"
"Hey there, Lu. Have a nice nap?"
"Mmhm." The earth beneath my knees is cracked and dry, grass brown and spiky, and if I were to fall I bet it would peel the skin right from my knees like you peel a sticker off paper when it's already been stuck, and it's ragged and the tear is uneven, only paper doesn't bleed. But maybe to the paper there's still that same sting, acid-hot and twinging like scolding not to do that again. Who knows what paper feels?
"It's too hot to be working outside."
Daddy has such a nice smile. "Go inside and get a drink, little moon."
"Too warm to stay in."
"Luna..."
"Come with me."
"Sweetie, I'm working on the garden."
"I'm not going unless you come with." I need more love than the roses; there is more of me to fill.
"In a minute, go on."
I wonder if Daddy ever understood why I tore one of his roses out by the roots. The petals were red, so red, and I had petals bubbling up from my skin where I grabbed recklessly at the stem. See, look, Daddy, I have that same red as your roses. I have petals, too, but they are still inside of me, maybe I'm a bud. A rosebud. But opening hurts, Daddy, is it supposed to hurt, can you fix it? Fix it for me, please, I'm so so hungry, but not for the little finger sandwiches you gave me at lunch.
I'm such a beautiful flower, Daddy, aren't I?