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Flowering. Approach. Part 15: Paralyzing Beauty, Paralyzing Fear

by Thavien Yliaster 4 months ago in Series
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Listen, my son, to your father's instruction and do not forsake your mother's teaching.

"Flowering," just like its artwork, is a work in progress. Thank You.

Reader discretion is advised: This series contains death, violence, and sexual content. Flowering is not a lighthearted series. Flowering is meant for a mature audience. It is not my intention to mislead those who read it, thus misleading the perception of the series itself, leading your hearts astray.

Please, "take this lesson to heart." - LaRha and Wetah

By Timotheus Fröbel on Unsplash

The more he looked at her, the more she reminded him of a doe. She was lean, elegant, and graceful. Her face was freckled, but not like Zaria’s. Her skin was tan, but he knew that she wasn’t of the same blood as him. She was constructed differently. Her skin wasn’t pale like his father’s, nor did her face have the bone structure of his mother’s or Xelu’s. She was different. She was tan like him, but she was more of an olive tan whereas he was that of an acorn. The more he noticed and paid attention to her, the more subtle differences he realized were there.

Watching her golden brunette hair bob up and down from taking bites of an apple, slowly he heard her sniffles turn into happiness. He may not have been able to see it, but deep down he knew that she was smiling. Good food makes everybody’s day better.

Watching her take three big consecutive bites, one right after another, he thought to himself, “She must be hungry.” His stomach growled. “I know what it’s when you feel like there’s a hole in your tummy.” He put a hand to his stomach. After watching her finish the apple, she sat back and sighed. It was as if she was tired already. Zephyr thought the same, and decided that he had enough excitement for one day.

Backing out, but never taking an eye off of her head, he made his exit. When he could no longer visibly see her head through the branches of trees and bushes, he ran. He ran with all of his heart. He ran with all of his arms. He ran as if she were right behind him. His wrist anticipating the sensation of being gripped tightly again and feeling the weight of her pulling him back. He ran, and he did not stop until he was home.

Exiting the forest, he ran past Xelu braiding grass blades, and Zaria who was struggling to stay awake. Not seeing his mother anywhere in sight, he ran straight for the hut. He didn’t stop until he almost slid to the floor mat, and doing his best to shake Wetah awake.

“Dad! Dad! DAD!”

He groaned tiredly, his arm almost hitting Zephyr when he rolled over. “What is it now, Zephyr?”

“The woman- I -she- I saw her…”

Wetah pushed himself upright more so in a hurry now as to gather his wits quickly. “What?!”

“She grabbed me!”

“What?!” Wetah was getting angry. How could Zephyr find her again? How could he approach her, and how could he let her get a hold of him even for a moment?

“I threw an apple at her, and got away! I hit her in the eye!”

Wetah didn’t care. All he cared about was his son’s recklessness. All he cared about was his son’s safety. All he cared about was how his family’s living spot was potentially jeopardized because of his son’s actions.

Infuriated at his son's recklessness, Wetah popped Zephyr in the back of the head with the palm of his hand. Knocking his son down, Wetah stood up, yanking Zephyr out the door with him.

“You stupid little, infantile, misbehaving, miscreant!” He stopped to turn around to point a big meaty finger in Zephyr’s face. “Do you know the danger you potentially put yourself in? You could’ve been killed!” Wetah yanked on his son’s arm. “I can’t believe you would do something so threatening to your own life! You could potentially even get us killed! Is that what you want?!”

Xelu and Zaria stared at the two, watching with fear in their eyes. The only time they were scared of their parents was when they were angry. This was one of those times. Seeing where Wetah was dragging their brother to, all they could do was feel sad for him, and sorry too. They knew of the pain that was about to commence.

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About the author

Thavien Yliaster

Thank You for stopping by. Please, make yourself comfortable. I'm a novice poet, fiction writer, and dream journalist.

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