Claudette's Folly

Claudette's Folly

	Claudette’s rather uncommon love for plants came about during a rough time in her life.

	She had never been much of a talker, and while she wasn’t abused like some other souls in the woods, she held only a meager few friends who she rather liked. They enjoyed the same subjects in school, as well as the same shows and videogames and other such things that kids like them should enjoy. But Claudette was more emotionally mature than the others; she longed for something more than banter to pass the time. Everything was a joke, nothing was serious, no one wanted to be more than just buddies. It wasn’t that she felt hated; she just didn’t feel loved.

	She felt hated here. The abomination chasing her wasn’t just doing a job, it was personal to it. She could feel the harshest, blackest emotions from the way it rolls it shoulders and cracks its neck as it looks for morsels to satisfy its master. In the warm light of the bonfire, when she is not grasping for sleep, she wonders if it was a man once. His mannerisms suggest he had humanity once, from the frustration expressed when he strikes a wall after prey escapes, or the grim satisfaction in his frame when he stares at a hooked victim. She shudders. Thinking about it before sleep would deprive her of rest again.

	She began getting restless at the age of sixteen. Day to day distractions couldn’t keep her from her interpersonal crisis. The days were blurring together, and she needed something… someone to understand her. Being a trusting person, she reached out first towards the school counselor. This person, who knew kids usually scoffed at the idea of visiting a counselor, was delighted to help. Though Claudette was nervous to open up to someone, she made the best choice of her life and did. Everything poured out: her shallow social life, her shallow interests, her shallow sense of self. Never before had she felt such catharsis, never before had she ever let someone listen. She was surprised to hear the counselor’s advice was to devote herself more deeply to a hobby. Maybe gardening, or something.

	Turns out gardening was exactly what she needed. The plants weren’t companions, sure, but caring for them gave her a release from the doubts that plagued her mind. She felt in control without being controlling, she felt like she was helping something flourish. She grew closer to her friends after discovering her new love for botany, as strange as it may seem. She was always on the lookout for the prettiest flowers to hand to her friends, especially if they needed comfort.

	It was in the woods near her favorite park where she was sucked into the nightmare. She had just plucked a Primrose Blossom for a grieving friend when a mist rolled in and her fear rolled out. She was doomed the moment she opened up to someone; fate had led her to the actions that brought her to the forest. Her soul was to be punished.

	She woke with a start as the embers from the campfire were snuffed out. The shadow was calling again, and it was time to follow its rules once more. She tried not to cry too loudly. She didn’t want to die again.

	She wouldn’t make it out that night, but a newly made friend would.