Breaking Part 3

Looking around, I noted that the other flowers were still bowing in reverence compared to my flower, that was rising into the sky as if the sun beckoned it forward. In this case, it would be the crescent moon. But I could tell it was slowly going to become a full moon in some time. Weaving my arms around, I feel good, but something was wrong with this. Why did my roots disappear? I thought back to what my grandma said. She never said anything about the roots, she just said it was a sign of the curse. I looked at my palm. Was my curse gone? Was this the task that I should have done?

I opened up my diary. It's been a while since I've written into it. I've been so busy trying to get here in time. Sitting down beside the flower, I took out my writing instrument, a bottle of ink, and began detailing what has happened so far and overall, my feelings on everything.

The ink stitched into the parchment paper and bloated its white surface with its black curves. I'm mostly wrote on the struggle of getting here. It was truly a magnificent feat. I have a thought I would have made it. Over the steep hills, the deep inclines with rugged stone and brittle protrusions that seemed out of reach.

It felt like time was a crawl. Many things happened, and it took a lot to write it all out, to express the feelings of what I saw, what I experienced.

Soon enough, I was getting close to the end of the diary, of my possible life. I looked at my arms and there were no roots, yet there was one way to find out. Pulling the hair off my head revealed a strand of hair that was white as snow. Something I've only seen a few times, but that was mostly due to where we were living. In the deeper south of our land, I normally saw snow in the colder seasons.

Even though my eyes blinked, looking up at the moon, and it was now cut down the middle and growing into its full stride, but also at the light that beamed down on me.

In the last word, my pen fell forward, hitting the paper. My eyes grace the bountiful display, while flowers raised and bloomed fully. Truly, their petals spanned out like arms in prayer.

It was amazing and here I was witnessing this beauty. I stood up, after placing the diary on the ground. The shine was an almighty blaze once it became a full moon.

My hands clenched tight in response and I felt this intense urge to fight. Divine in its presence, I was not sure what this was when all the flowers were standing at attention, yet basking in the moonlight.

I saw sparkles flutter off the petals of the flowers. The glinting lights spiraled up into the once dark night, yet now becoming a dark solace that was uncertain and yet speaking to me and its hidden language.

In that moment I felt free, my legs felt weightless and my heart skipped into the depths of shadowed valleys. My hitched voice drained, and I stuttered in extravagance that fed my eyes. I smiled, for this was beautiful, as my heart slowed and my eyes closed.