Flourish like the Flowers

Josephine Nguyen Yr9

If there was anything Aster loved most in the world, it was her flower garden. There was an unspoken rule; the flowers were not to be disturbed if they wanted to flourish. But where there was love, there was hate. If there was anything Aster hated most in the world, it was leaving her flowers unattended. There was a silent fear that one day she 'd see her flowers ' petals wilting and withered if she didn 't pay attention to them. “Why do you visit me?” Aster asked one morning, tending to her flowers, “if all you do is disturb me and destroy my garden beds?" She scowled at Isla, who was standing on the frail, wooden bench that quivered under her weight. “Because I must come and see what my Aster is doing all day!” “I am not yours, Isla. There is only one thing that has a place in my heart, and that isn ’t you. ” “Would it kill you, Aster, if you spent a day away from the gardens? Your flowers do not need attention every second of the day. ” Isla muttered, rolling her eyes. “This is my sanctum, Isla. My home, my hopes and dreams, the place I thrive. ” Aster countered, and Isla rolled her eyes. “Must I remind you that you are a human being, not a flower? People do not flourish in dirt and plants, Aster. The fertiliser must’ ve made you lose all sense, ” Isla jumped down from the bench, kicking an empty pot plant over as she approached Aster. “I’ m taking you to the seaside tomorrow. I will come down here and drag you if I must. Your father would want that. ” “My father, ” Aster spat, “knows nothing about me. " “No, it’ s just that you admire flora too greatly. Arrivederci, bella. I will pick you up at eleven.

The next day, Aster was tempted to hide away in her room, knowing full well that Isla would come and drag her away. She looked out her window; her carnations were blooming, as were her petunias, and the wisteria trees at the back of the estate were growing nicely. Maybe she could go away from her garden, just this once. Suddenly, fear clutched her heart, twisting through her.

“Aster, ” a voice called downstairs - her father. “Isla is here to visit you. Come down at

once.

” A flash of panic raced through her mind. Should she stay and hide, or go with Isla? What about her flowers? What if something happened to them? Did she have separation anxiety? “Aster, ” her father shouted again, “hurry up!” “Coming, Father!” She replied, replacing her gardening overalls with a pair of pants and a blouse. Aster rushed downstairs, picked up her sunglasses and hat, and came face to face with Isla at the door. “I told you eleven o ’ clock, did I not?” Isla smiled, “ which means, ” she checked her watch. “ you ’ re twenty-four seconds late. ” “Oh, hush, Isla. I’ m coming with you, aren ’t I?” Aster replied. Her father waved them both off, and they hopped into the car. “I’ m proud of you, Aster, ” Isla said after a moment of silence in the car. “You say you thrive in the garden and with your flowers, but you managed to come with me today. ” “I suppose so. ” Aster murmured, aware she ’d actually made a change in routine for the first time in a while. “You don ’t just have to bloom in the garden, bella. You can flourish everywhere. ” Isla told her. The flowerbeds may have been where her heart belonged, but the world was her whole garden, and she was ready to flourish.