Blemish

Her heart screams for her to stop, but she can’t. It’s too late. She knows she shouldn’t do this, that doing this will drastically change the course of her life. Her mind tells her it’s okay, throwing excuse after excuse to her, attempting to slow the pounding of her heart. She lowers herself to the ground, dirtying her once perfectly white dress. The dull hues of the forest from the morning fog make the bright crimson stand out incredibly. She finds the rose and forcefully plucks it from the earth. She brings it up to her lips, taking a deep inhale. Just the smell quiets every cell of her being, and just like that she’s made her choice. She brings her fingers to the silky, organic petals and rubs them, ever so gently. Even as her world falls apart and her body begins to distrust and revolt, she’s never felt more at peace. She rubs the petal between her fingers one last time, then violently rips the petal from its maker. She inhales once more, then puts it in her mouth. The flower’s velvety texture at first fights her tongue as she mashes it to the roof of her mouth. But eventually, it begins to dissolve and the red hues stain her teeth. She hunches to the forest floor and eats every single petal of the rose. The first few petals she tries to savor, letting them rest in her mouth, sucking out the life like you would with a gobstopper. But, she quickly becomes ravenous, stuffing as many petals as she can into her mouth, nearly choking with every swallow. She chews the thin fragile pieces as fast as she can, and when she opens her eyes, all that’s left is a thorny stem. She slowly rises to stand up straight and carelessly tosses the stem to the ground. She wipes her mouth and stares at the red smear on her hand. She suddenly feels exhausted and begins to stumble through the forest, her black mary jane heels continuously getting stuck in the wet floor. Her vision begins to blur and the fog seems to be getting thicker and thicker, she can see individual water beads start to form. The greens and grays begin to blend, creating a twinkling effect like the stars do in the dead of night. She throws herself to a thin, piney tree, and holds it as the world spins. She forcefully shuts her eyes as her head and heart pound in unison. She clings to the tree to keep her upright, ignoring the roughness of the bark beginning to cut the skin of her hands. Her mind, which was once the catalyst of this, begins to race with thoughts of regret. Her heart feels as if it’s going to beat out of her chest, she imagines her heart on the dirt floor, the same crimson red as the rose she just consumed. The spinning becomes more violent, the lights of the forest flickering more rapidly and brighter. The fog has become so thick she feels like she’s drowning, her lungs screaming and burning with the lack of air. 

Then

Then, 

Everything goes black. And nothing was ever the same.

She sees water. A large man in all black extends his hands toward her. She walks up the one-tiled step and places her hands in the palms of his, they’re instantly enveloped as he closes them over hers. He pulls her into the encasement of knee-deep water, his steady hands keeping her upright. They shift into their intended positions. He faces forward with his hand on the back of her head, with her facing to the left, holding his forearm. She looks over and sees her parents standing about 20 feet away. They gleam and hold back tears as they embrace each other. They try to force smiles, for her, but she knows all they feel is terror. The ends of her long black hair breach the water as she looks up to the ceiling. The small room there in is made of dark wood and is harshly lit by the skylights in the ceiling. She looks deeper into the decorated glass, and makes out different kinds of winged creatures with vines wrapped around them, engulfing them and trapping them into the disturbed piece of art forever. Their small detailed faces seem to scream and cry out for help. The instructor stomps her foot light enough not to break the ancient wooden floors, but to get everyone’s attention in the room. She glares into the young girl's eyes with such a coldness and force, it sends shivers down her spine. The old woman coughs to clear her rugged throat and begins the ceremony. 

“Our god has allowed us to survive this wretched planet by testing our obedience and strength to conform to his whims and desires.” She claps her hands together as she says this, and closes her eyes to remember the formal address. 

“When we succeed at these expectations, he allows us to flourish. But when we fail, there are consequences.” She opens her eyes as she says this to glare at the girl once again.

“If one were to show any sign of deviation from what he intends for us, we must deal with the individual thoroughly to ensure nothing gets out of line.”

She then pulls out a sheet of paper with the girl's information on it, clearly not even caring to learn the name of the person’s life she’s about to ruin.

“Ms. Evelyn Daniel Flores, the Deviance Court of St. Valentine has found you guilty of containing the blood of the condemned.”

Her parents quiver at this statement as they stare hopelessly at their damned daughter, acting as if they didn’t know this would happen the first time they laid eyes on her.

“But since you have no other offenses connected with this charge, you will not be facing the Decision. Instead, the court has offered you the opportunity to be freed from your curse. We will now begin to exterminate the evil force that courses through your veins.” 

The man in black carefully lowers Evelyn into the water. She sits on her knees, with the water now up to her chest. Even though the court has spared her life, she knows this act of “kindness” will either kill her anyways or leave her mutilated for the rest of her short life. She watches the man in black pull a silver dagger from the back of his cloak, the handle is bedazzled with all sorts of golden and red jewels. How sad something so beautiful is about to commit an act so violent. As he lifts the blade up, higher to the heavens, her parents hold their breath, waiting for the moment it will plunge back down to Earth. As the dagger hits its high point, the sunlight from the ceiling's glass reflects straight onto Evelyn’s face. She feels her cheeks get warmer and her brown skin gleams in the fresh light. She opens her eyes for what she thinks is the last time and sees the face of a crying angel in the glass. Something deep and guttural inside her whispers, “It’s not your time.” What looks to be in slow motion, the dagger is flipped upside down and the blade is coming straight for her heart. She sees the sharpness of the crafted silver shine, her eyes following its projected path. Just as it’s about to go past her eyes, she instinctively grabs hold of the dagger's handle, redirects it, and shoves it straight into the man's abdomen. He was not anticipating this action, so he just stares in disbelief watching drops of his blood plop into the holy water, with his hands still holding the handle of the dagger. Evelyn whips her head to look at the spectators of this atrocity, her parents step back in sheer horror and the instructor keeps her eyes locked on Evelyn as she steps backward toward the door. Just as the instructor turns around to turn the doorknob, Evelyn rips the knife from the man, runs to the woman, and stabs her in the back of the skull. Her once tense body goes limp as she falls to the floor. Evelyn gives her parents one last pleading look, then sprints down the red-carpeted hallway. Next thing she knows she’s sprinting through the woods, desperately looking for what she’s been warned not to do her whole life. I think you know the rest.

The first thing she feels is the forest floor against her cheek and fingertips. Her fingers reach for the earth, slowly clawing at the ground and getting dirt under her fingernails. The intense pounding in her head has mostly gone away, but a bit of it still lingers. She can see her heartbeat, along with the sun's rays creating a bright pulsing orange in her eyelids. She methodically opens her eyes and brings herself up to a sitting position. She can see it’s now late into the day, she must have been lying there for hours at least. She looks down at the dress her mother picked out for her just earlier that morning, but Evelyn gasps at the startling new black cloth. She dusts the pine leaves off her, and slowly stands up. It feels much warmer than the last time she was conscious, and she can clearly see all of the forest because the fog has seemingly disappeared. She then quickly remembers the events of that morning. She startles herself into being completely quiet, even though she was making no noise. She holds her breath to listen for any sign of other people but exhales when she hears nothing but the shallow wind blow through. She knows they will be searching for her, so she decides to get moving. She starts to walk, then abruptly stops, remembering what else she had done previously that day. She brings her hands up closer to her face, and turns them over, investigating every single line and texture. She notes that she feels exactly the same as before she ate the rose. She sighs in relief, realizing how immensely grateful she is that the legends were wrong, and hopefully, she didn’t cause too much damage. She begins to walk again through the thick of the woods. Soon she will realize, this isn’t the same forest she was just in hours before.