Sacrificial Madness

She was sick of the mediocrity that ran through her veins, sick of the failure that encapsulated her inner being. Pacing back and forth, the fiber beneath her feet imprinted her path of failure with each step. She let out a scream. “Fuck, fuck fuck.” She’s always dreamt of a life where she could stand on her own two feet, a life where she could look back at her nay-sayers and taunt them with her success, but maybe they were right.

“Maybe it’s true and you don’t have what it takes?”. She couldn’t escape her thoughts, just falling deeper and deeper into different pits of despair. She wiped the fallen tears from her face and looked back at the deep red fabric splayed out onto the couch.

 She began caressing her long hours of work. Instinctively she looked out the window and saw that same weed that had somehow refused to die regardless of how many times she had chopped off its’ head or doused it in weed killer. It had gotten even bigger each time as if it was taunting her with its ability to grow in intense and strenuous environments.

She huffed. “If only I had that same ability.” She grabbed the red wine that had sat half empty on the coffee table and took a gulp. Wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her cream-colored blouse she strutted out her backdoor towards that plant. 

She was welcomed to the sound of her elderly neighbor's dog barking, a usual noise to hear. If you confront her she’d pretend to be senile and not understand a word you said. Her nephew is a Deputy Sheriff and the last time someone complained they got a fine for having a mailbox that leaned a little. 

Best to leave her be.

“So it lives.” She sneered, the plant still hadn’t bloomed. The head still tightly closed but now surrounding the base, looked like thorns. The thorns sharp as the tip of a knife and thick enough to cause pain to any enemy who dared disturb it. Saturn found herself caressing it ever so lightly.

“Shit.” She jumped back slightly looking at the small trickle of blood running down the tip of her freshly manicured finger. Like some supernatural force, she reached and grasped the plant in an impetus fashion and squeezed tightly. She held on, even watching the blood run down her fist, past her wrist, and onto her blouse she held on for dear life. 

She felt fire run through her veins, letting out small grunts of pain which to her surprise turned into pleasure. Her mind was in a state of haze, she couldn’t control herself. She was no longer crouching over the plant and was now on her knees, her left hand squeezing the earth beneath her. With a final sharp inhale she died a little death and was able to loosen her grip.

Her hand fell to the side of her, her body now weak. She sat there for a few minutes, she had no idea what had just happened. What possibly could've come over her to even think about touching that plant and how it possibly could’ve made her… She shook her thoughts away, picked herself up, and dragged her sluggish body into the house and into her bed. 

Day after day, night after night. Saturn somehow found it in her to hate herself more than the day before.

But this day was different. She felt it as soon as she stretched her arms out in the morning, the sun beamed a bit brighter, there was a pep in her step, her clothes fit better, and she felt unstoppable. 

Not even the sound of that dog barking could upset her. 

The moment her eyes landed on that red dress that she dreaded she was hit with a light bulb moment, without hesitance she grabbed a pair of scissors and began cutting. She had no clue what she was doing, just letting her hands guide her as the fabric fell beside her feet piece by piece. No looming anxiety telling her what she was doing was wrong, how much of a failure she was, or hearing the mockery of my former foes.

By the time she was done, she had her hands on a masterpiece. 

Saturn hadn’t felt that burst of unfiltered passion and creativity in a long while, and after that day it was as if she was constantly on the hunt for it. She looked at the scraps of fabric in front of her uninspired.

What could have possibly gotten into her?

She found herself counting her steps to what she could've possibly done in order to feel that passion again. 

She’d do anything.

She went to open her blinds giving her direct sunlight from the backyard, but that wasn’t enough she needed to feel the sun on her skin, the subtle gust of wind running its fingers through her hair, and the smell of the grass. Opening the sliding door connected to the kitchen, she stepped out onto the patio and welcomed the world with open arms.

Closing her eyes and breathing in deeply, she felt more than refreshed. Saturn opened her eyes and the first thing she saw was that damned weed and a half-empty wine glass beside it. It all came rushing back to her. The crying and my drunken stumble as she made my way to her backyard and…

“I hate that damned dog.” She screamed. As she walked towards the plant, she felt something warm squish between her toes. She looked down and noticed she had just stepped in dogshit. She began brushing her feet off in the grass aggressively almost causing her to fall. She then heard the barking again. She looked at her backdoor and noticed it wasn’t latched, it wasn’t the first the dog chose to exit its bowels in Saturn's backyard.

She quickly latched it and began looking down at her perfectly manicured hands, examining it in great detail. She never even considered that her hands should be bruised, not a mark on her.

Intuitively she balled her fist and pulled it close to her heart.  

This plant was the only thing out of the ordinary that happened to Saturn, as silly as she found it this was her answer. Usually, when she starts a project she's bogged down with her irrational fear. She was afraid to fail and was burdened with the thoughts and opinions of others. 

But that weed?Plant? Hell, a gift from God; She felt invincible, powerful, and free

Saturn looked at the budding plant and knew they’d get well acquainted.

 And so they did, Saturn pricked her hand every single day, and as the plant fed her brain, body and soul, Saturn fed the plant more and more of her blood. She would have sudden dizzy spells and would feel woozy for hours.

She knew she couldn’t keep on going at this rate but it was if her body was now addicted and whenever she refused it was as if the plant was beckoning at her. Demanded her to feed it more.

But Saturn didn’t know how much more to give.

“I can’t keep going, I-I swerved off the road the other day. My body isn’t producing enough blood fast enough to give you.”

How silly she felt, begging and pleading this plant, as if it was alive and forcing her. She scoffed at how silly this was. She could stop if she wanted to, in fact, she was stopping right now. Saturn vowed to stop using the plant and just pick up more hobbies to spark her creative juices.

 This worked for a few days until the nightmare started, until her heart felt as if it would beat out of her chest and her brain couldn’t think past the plant. It was taking over her mind, she found it being the first thing she thought about when she woke up and the last when she slept.

Even without the use, her body was thinned and pale as it was hard for her to remember to eat. She looked in the bathroom mirror and was disgusted at the ghostly woman looking back at her. 

Saturn dragged herself to bed with hopes of a peaceful rest, but the loud barking had her head pounding. The dogs had been barking all day and it was adding to her madness.

She put the pillow over her head and closed her eyes, waiting for slumber to hit her.

She had finally managed to rest, but when she awakened she could hear the clear sounds of birds chirping and something tickling her feet. She opened her eyes, the sun had almost risen fully and to Saturn's surprise, she wasn’t in her bed anymore but lying in her backyard.

Confused she sat up and looked around until her eyes landed on horror 4 feet away from her.

There lies the deceased body of her neighbor's dog, a knife driven through its stomach and its neck slit open. Its body was pressed firmly against the plant's thorns as if it was now a part of it.

Saturn gagged and threw up on the ground, her body now convulsing in fear. 

“What the fuck.” She exclaimed, trying to keep from screaming. Saturn didn’t quite care for the dog, it kept her up many nights and left her many surprises to find. But she never wished him harm, maybe being sent to the pound but definitely not death.

“Wilson!” She heard the elderly lady scream out. Saturn jumped into action, she didn’t know how or why but if she got caught with the body of a dead dog she knew she’d be done for.

Her career would be tarnished before it started, no one likes a dog killer.

She reached and pulled the dog up and watched as the thorns on the plant seemed to grow in size when pierced the dog's neck, but shrunk when she pulled away.

She froze and began shaking her head. She thought she was going mad, that this was a bad dream and she’d wake up any minute. Saturn looked at the dog and found something so even stranger about it. It had so many open wounds but remained spotless, not even Saturn had any traces of blood on her. She examined closer.

The dog had no blood left in it’s body.

“Wilson! Where are you, boy?” Saturn hurriedly wrapped the body up in tarp and threw it in the shed.

Saturn didn’t know exactly what happened but she knew why. She walked up to the plant, this time more timidly as if not to further upset it. The once small thorns had grown a tad more, and the plant was taller and seemed overall more threatening. Saturn felt a strong piercing pain in her head, the same pain she had felt the last few days. She had a feeling that it wasn’t just a headache.

The plant could say no words, but she heard it loud and clear.

It wanted blood, hers or whoever else's and if she wasn’t willing to give it willingly it would force her to take it. 

Saturn’s head snapped towards the house as she heard her phone ringing from afar, she thought about ignoring it but figured it could’ve been her mother. She’s been ignoring all calls lately, not in the right headspace to hold a conversation. If she didn’t answer eventually she was afraid her mother would show up or worse, call the police.

  she walked into her house and Luckily it wasn’t a phone call, but a barrage of messages from someone who wanted to commission a dress from her, they saw the pictures she posted of the last dress and wanted a similar one with a different cut and color.

Saturn felt a knot form in her stomach. 

This was exactly what she wanted, the world to wear her fabrics on their skin. For her name to enter and exit the mouths of those who most mattered. She’s wanted this since a young girl. Saturn looked out into the backyard, the mysterious plant gawking at her. Beckoning for her to drop down onto her knees and offer another sacrifice.

She subconsciously squeezed her hands tight.

Her eyes beelined to the shed where the body of her neighbor's dog lay inside, Body hollowed and dried. It had sucked every living part out of its body, but it had given her a new life.

Dogs die all the time.