Status: Weekly updates - planning a rewrite for the earlier chapters soon
Wilted
Peace Lily
Humata tyermannii, Howea forsteriana, Monstera deliciosa, Nephrolepis exaltata
I recited the names of the plants as I watered them. The Latin rolled off my tongue in a quiet whisper, a bid to make my mutterings go unheard. Behind me my brother was lecturing me. I had gotten used to drowning out his dull, monotone voice. I had been hearing it for my entire life. He was seven years older than me and since hitting thirty he had decided that since he hadn’t achieved all the goals of his twenties, he would have to force them onto me.
“I wish you would just try and do something sociable.” I heard him sigh, resting against the door of my small studio apartment.
“I do.” I replied, finishing the last of my watering and setting the can down by the sink. “I talk to people online.”
He rolled his eyes, “That’s not socialising. That’s creeps on the internet.”
I shrugged “I’m a creep too then, I guess.”
“There’s no talking to you.”
“I am talking.”
“You know what I mean.”
The silence hung in the air as he finished his sentence. I stared at the scratched wooden floors, kicking at it with the toe of my boot.
“Fine.” He finally said, “But you need to at least try make friends with someone you can actually meet face to face.”
“I’ll try.” I wouldn’t.
“I’ll see you next week, okay?” He said with a resounding sigh. Another defeat. Another failed attempt at making me bloom.
He walked over to me and gave me a one-armed hug, kissing the top of my dark curls. “Be safe.”
And with a quick squeeze of my shoulder he left and I locked the door behind him.
I recited the names of the plants as I watered them. The Latin rolled off my tongue in a quiet whisper, a bid to make my mutterings go unheard. Behind me my brother was lecturing me. I had gotten used to drowning out his dull, monotone voice. I had been hearing it for my entire life. He was seven years older than me and since hitting thirty he had decided that since he hadn’t achieved all the goals of his twenties, he would have to force them onto me.
“I wish you would just try and do something sociable.” I heard him sigh, resting against the door of my small studio apartment.
“I do.” I replied, finishing the last of my watering and setting the can down by the sink. “I talk to people online.”
He rolled his eyes, “That’s not socialising. That’s creeps on the internet.”
I shrugged “I’m a creep too then, I guess.”
“There’s no talking to you.”
“I am talking.”
“You know what I mean.”
The silence hung in the air as he finished his sentence. I stared at the scratched wooden floors, kicking at it with the toe of my boot.
“Fine.” He finally said, “But you need to at least try make friends with someone you can actually meet face to face.”
“I’ll try.” I wouldn’t.
“I’ll see you next week, okay?” He said with a resounding sigh. Another defeat. Another failed attempt at making me bloom.
He walked over to me and gave me a one-armed hug, kissing the top of my dark curls. “Be safe.”
And with a quick squeeze of my shoulder he left and I locked the door behind him.
♠ ♠ ♠
i feel like this will end up being more explicit than i first intended. expect raw human emotions, crippling depression, and sex stuff. should be a fun ride.