Oct. 13th, 2006

bringnewjokes: (Purple eye.)
The first thing she noticed when she woke up was that she was warm; the second was that she was hungry.

Hungry for her children, rather. Or were they her siblings? Perhaps a combination of both. Anyway, they loved her, and she could feel it, while their vines wrapped around her legs, as if they were holding her close. She could feel their heartbeat. They were everyone she had ever known. They were her family, her children, her siblings, her parents.

They wrapped their way into her hair and around her waist and arms, crossing across her neck to form patterns across her skin. They didn't like her clothes. Why should they? They weren't blissfully green.

You are our female, said the children. You are our mother/sister.

The transition was not hard, and the chlorophil was pumping through her veins like blood by the time she rose to face the males.

"Ahh, yes, the female. Every garden needs a caretaker!"

She informed them of their purpose; the troublesome one -- Danny? -- escaped, as was expected. She knew that he would. He runs to the only place he deems safe, the place where nothing grows, but there is only death, the place of sickness, the place of ghosts.

But she followed him, and she stood before the doorway, and he couldn't get through unless he hurts her. Her vines wrapped around the levers of the laboratory.

"Hello, Danny," Sam-an-tha purred, and she could the flowers in the room begin to open up and blossom. "Where are you going?"

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Samantha "Sam" Manson

October 2006

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