A Wilted Rose

Treated indifferently by her parents, Seor had never really felt the human touch or experienced a real connection to anyone. The closest thing she had to a strong feeling was loneliness, but barely that.
She had only an unrequited love to keep her mind at wander.
The unknowing receptor of that budding love was the idea of love itself. Reading the many books she had in her little library of a room, she grew fond of the characters living life fighting for something they loved and believed in.
Seor had never been told that she was loved, or even cared for. Her life was solitary and she never went to school or places to meet other people. She never seemed to go anywhere. The person she saw most was Mrs. Norr, her homeschool teacher. Mrs. Norr was a sagging woman who spent too much time supporting herself that the woman had no time for anything other than talk of education, education itself, and not making eye contact with the strange child she taught.
Alone as one could be, Seor only had her garden in which to keep company. Neighbors lived without knowing of her existence and not many others who saw her talked to her, not even a simple hello.
Without realizatizing it, she herself was the very materialization of an angel, but hidden in a quiet and unnoticed way.
Her hair ran somehow smooth but wild, hiding the eyes which seemed to have captured the waters of any paradise. The long, thick blonde hair was so light it was white but was never cut or tampered with. Her face was masked by it and so was most of her beautifully shaped body. Seor attemped to braid it on many occasions, though not always succeeding, so ithat it wouldn't strangle her as she moved about during the day.
Wearing the old, loose clothing that had been found lying around, the beautiful lavish items she owned hung in her unopened closet; they were ignored. She couldn't name one pair of shoes or a shirt she had in there, unlike the many people who spent their days obsessing and mezmorized over what they had and compared themselves to the next.
She was a calm, patient person. Her kindness was neverending and streamed out constantly to whoever it could reach, which was few.
Her garden was layed out behind the beautifully kept and ignored pool and was only accessable through a neat doorway placed behind a vine falling from the trees above.
Though only a small patch, she nurtured whatever came from the earth but knew which were weeds to be pulled. From the books she read she knew well how to care and identify many plants which Seor would most likely never see and would never grow in her garden.
Without ever speaking to her parents it would have been difficult to have asked them for a minor plant or two. The last time she saw them was when she was a young girl.
Seor had been sitting outside near the evergreen brush of Heather and saw movement through one of the always spotless windows. She saw a woman with a tight bun of dyed blonde hair at the nape of her neck and you could she had some work done on almost everything. Her chest was well sized and her teeth unnaturally bright and white. Her skin was a tan orange and she wore so many jewels one wondered how she was able to stand.
Seor saw none of it as fake, only as the woman being peculiarly strange and unreal. The woman glanced at Seor and quickly closed the curtain in disgust. Seor blinked twice and realized that must have been her mother though no resemblance could be found.
Years had passed since then and now she was 16 and a half. Her birthdays were uncelebrated and cake was alien to her.
Mondays through Fridays she had 8 hour lessons and she didn't recieve homework. Seor spent all the time she could outdoors or reading, sometimes at the same time.
Springtime had finally come and the winter's cold grasp on the lives of all living things had released.
Into the gardener's shed she skipped, which was left unlocked by her request to the never seen gardener, and Seor took tools and soil for the plants and went on out to the garden.
She pulled what she knew was bad for her garden and they thanked her. One could see how they could finally breath as the weeds were gone and the mulch put down. The worms wiggled and the birds hopped and sang from branch to branch.
It was a beautiful day.
As the weeding progressed, Seor discovered something she was sure she knew the root of.
A small green stem was coming out of the ground. It was still young but was growing in size, though as green as the rest so very unseen.
Some leaves were banching off and a small bud with a hint of color.
It was a rose.
The very thought of having such a thing in her very own garden was amazing. She wondered how big it would be and how beautiful it would look and what color it would turn out as. She hoped it would be a deep red that entranced even most absent-minded.
Seor visited and took care of it every single day and watched it open slightly after a week. The plant came to be a foot taller and more leaves came out and another two buds had popped out of the stem.
It was a deep green and she came and read to it from her favorite story books.
Two weeks had passed since her discovery of it and she hadn't ceased to love it.
After a day of showers, Seor sneaked out to the garden later on that Saturday than she usually did.

Believing

I shudder at the cold draft.
The ghosts pass by,
Shifting the thoughts in my mind.

Words pass by my core of thought.
I need to find the ones I search for:
Listen to me.

Nothing adds up,
Fantasy becomes your truth.
The lines of reality dissolve.

Before me, I grope in the dark.
I need something solid,
Something to have at my fingertips.

Trust is my key,
But where is the lock?
The door has only splinters.