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Jan Davidsz. de Heem, Festoon of Fruit and Flowers, 1600-1670.
"My life's a fucking trip49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8JXs7Fhteo
It makes me sick49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrcLBEOMpCg
I am so jaded and I hate it49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSk71dR56A2
I'm faking it49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoB8529j1Td
I try to find a greener shade49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRruHP8XmQn
To be the way49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxU9dj80ytY
To lead the way49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBxIAHvEig3
I need to wait..." - Oblivion (Creation) by Jhene Aiko.
Trigger Warning (TW): Explicit content on assault.
She was 8 blocks away from her home, when it happened. As Veronica walks along a path in one of the darkest parts of the woods, she hears a snap. She froze for too long, her legs being in the past while her mind is in the future screaming at her. Suddenly, she's dragged to the wet grass on the side of the path. Just a few moments before, she was staring at the only pay phone on the path, a few feet away before being taken. Now, two men hold her down as she scratches and screams, but her shrieking comes out hoarse due to never speaking.
It's okay, I'm here.
The fear comes like an old friend: the familiarity of her blood pounding in her ears and the hairs all over her skin standing. Her face is covered in dirt and tears. The animalistic urge to kill comes, but she can only defend herself with weak punches. They grab at her clothes and tear through her sweater.
It's okay, I'm here.
"Pleas-"
"Shut up," A sharp and low voice tells her as they try to clamp her mouth shut with their palm. Veronica bites the hand and the bones under her teeth break like sticks as blood drips into her mouth. The man shouts then briskly strikes the side of Veronica's head knocking her unconscious.
It's okay, I'm here.
Before she falls into the void of her mind, large, White hands shoot out from behind her attacker.
Look at me.
Veronica clings to the calls in her head.
"Look at me."
She runs along the shore with her adrenaline racing to her head. She's surrounded by fog and it blurs her vision. The sand under her feet is a ghastly turquoise color contrasting the nightfall skies. Veronica is stranded in a world of grays, blues, and greens and the moon a moss-colored sun, it's light casting upon Veronica's skin to make her gleam twilight. She feels the wind slapping at her face and tossing her hair as she runs along the shore, trying to get away from the sorrow of the beach as the voices follow her.
"Why don't you see me?"
It was so angry. She feels she's within the water, taking on the burden of it's resentment and hostility. Veronica whips her head around, trying to find the source of the voice that makes her bawl. Her spirit feels through the waves steep outrage, and what lays hopelessly in the water is it's pleading for warmth. It was wanting... yet afraid. All that was ahead of her was the smoke of her breath while the waves chase her.
"I love you."
The water engulfs her feet.
"You're mine and I love you."
Veronica runs faster as the waves grows more violent and urgent to take her. But she's so tired. She's tired of running and fighting. She knows if she stops it would swallow her, but exhaustion becomes too powerful.
"Where are you?" She gives a grave shout and falls to her knees. Surrendering, she tries to catch her breath
"Why don't you see me?"
A strange veil of calm falls over her head.
"Where are you?"
"I love you."
"Where are you?" Veronica demands yet instinctively turns her gaze to the ocean.
"I'm here. I'm here."
Backing away from the water, Veronica screams through bitter tears barely audible. She can hear him now. She can see his true self.
"Where have you been? Why did you leave?"
"Don't you remember me?"
"You're a fucking coward! Why did you leave?"
Why did you leave me?
"Do you remember me?"
As the waves were getting higher, Veronica's knees dig into the sand with her arms spreading like wings. She had no choice. She never denied it.
"Yes! Yes," she can feel the corners of her mouth ripping open,"Jac-"
Suddenly, the water becomes wine and smells of of iron while tainting the sky. She's pulled into red. As her lungs begin to fail her, she finds glowing amber eyes staring back as Veronica awakes. She clutches her throat, gasping for air while her eyes look around alert.
First, she hears the shore but it doesn't send her into a panic. It's sound is not sound, but as if the wind came to life and whispers to the earth from the inside. Her shelter is a place with glass windows where she can see an ocean where Veronica recognizes it as the beach close to home. Through the skylights, she can see the grey sky, upside down with the ocean moving like clouds. She can see a crowd of seagulls trying to make use of the sand by pecking.
Her asylum was a large green house that could fit 20 people. It was like a tiny home where only hundreds of plants lived and were thriving in striking colors of greens and browns. It makes sense why she can hear the ocean as the roof was constructed by different types of vineyards webbing the roof, yet bundled tightly to keep her safe from the drizzle outside. So many monsteras, succulents, and many more huddled together like a flock of birds. The only window not covered in vegetation was the one that had a clear view of the ocean. It seemed like mother nature gave birth in this tiny space and Veronica was laying in the middle of it. She awoke in a queen size bed with silk sheets, pillows the color of pearls, and a pale orange comforter that concealed her legs. She looks closer and realizes its decorated with prints of tiny rose buds.
Veronica begins to tear up and inhales deeply. It's as if she living in her old bedroom as a child again but better. She feels the insides of her chest expanding, and she soothes herself by wrapping the comforter around her aching body. Placing her head between the pillows, Veronica feels warmth and peace. She exhales like she's been holding in her breath for too long. As she begins to close her eyes, she notices an tiny, antique, and wooden table next to her right. On the surface lays her phone, her bag, and a piece of paper.
She withers, crying uncontrollably in fear as the men were like shadows mounting her. Veronica can feel bruises forming on her wrists and legs.
Veronica frantically sits up and unveils her legs, taking notice of the bruises then looks at the scratches over her arms and hands. She touches them tenderly.
Fuck, that did happen.
The greenhouse had relieved her from remembering the events from last night with its plants and beautiful scenery of the ocean. She almost forgot who she was and wishes the plants soaked in memories like sunlight. Tentatively, she grabs the paper on the table: it's aged, brown, and burned at the edges. Something was written in red and in cursive.
Hello. Text this number once you wake up: 000-000-0000
Veronica grabs her phone and sees she's missed several calls and texts from Michael, Lizzy, and Aya in her notifications then grimaces. This all felt too familiar, and she was not ready to explain what happened to her last night in detail, not even to herself. Ignoring the notifications, she makes a new text message to the number on the paper.
Biting her lip, she sent: Hello?
Hello. [writing...] How are you feeling?
I'm doing okay...Where am I?
You are in my family's greenhouse.
Oh...okay.
[...] Are you hungry?
Who are you?
The greenhouse was nice, but she would be stupid not to ask. They don't reply very quickly, and she keeps seeing the dots disappear then reappear.
My name is Kozak. I found you last night in the woods on the floor ground... Are you sure you're okay?
She bites the inside of her cheek. Veronica desperately wants to say "no", but more than the other person could ever think of. They don't know her childhood was a mess and was leaking into her adult years. They didn't know she was motherless as well as fatherless, completely abandoned and still barren even after feasting on the love of her friends. They didn't know she worked at a bakery that chose greed instead of their employees safety, or the fact she had to quit school so she could take care of herself financially.
They didn't know she was still running away from the traces of him and how she was still purging their past interactions from her skin, hair, and everything she could think of. In a effort to protect the last innocence she had, she cut her hair and stitched her mouth shut in defiance, in distress so no other man could treat her the way he did. Preventing any other man, not even Michael to pull the shit he pulled in front of her to leave her with a confused and heavy heart. They didn't know...she didn't know who she was after all of this.
Veronica's memories came like a simple light switch, and she realized Jacob had been following, stalking, and hurting others in her name. Someone who was always bizarre, always there since she was a child with their presence becoming more physical than their body, trailed her like a devoted moth.
Despite the boy seems dark, cold, and just off, he was very gentle with herFinally, he bends down to plant a velvet touch of his lips on her skinI don't like it when other people touch youShe can't help how cautious he was on her hair now that it was lulling her to sleepWhen he smiles, Veronica feels her heart punching the inside of her chestHe's quite attractiveYou belong to meThe spot where Jacob left a kiss burns making her nauseous but blissfulShe would never be able to escape thisThen something flickers in his eyes like thunder that sets off sparks in herIt was sad to see how alone he wasFingers encompass her chin before titling her head up toward Jacob's lipsYou belong to meNo matter how cold he looks, his body was like the sun making her heart burn-
Veronica lifts her head to stop the tears. He was fucking right. Even if he wasn't here, in some twisted way, she belonged to him. But the fact that she was so close to allowing him to take her, drag her to the waters of darkness and insanity was what haunted every day.
As the waves were getting higher, Veronica's knees dig into the sand with her arms spreading like wings. She had no choice. She never denied it.
Veronica wipes the tears away from her cheeks and replies quickly.
I'm okay. My legs and arms are sore...
Eat something. There is a coat for you to grab. When you are ready, come to the main house.
Veronica picks at one of the scratches on her wrist. She's not sure if she should do what the stranger is asking her to do. Even if her stomach needed to be filled, she felt justified to be weary.
Take your time. Things will be explained to you once you decide to come in.
She sits still in the bed for several moments. What was the worst that could happen if the worse was always happening to her?
Veronica gets up slowly and searches the greenhouse until she can find the coat her messenger mentions of. It's hanging onto a small tree adorned with pomegranates towards the back of the house. She knows they grow during this season but finds it strange for it to be placed alone while other plants bundled together.
In her work clothes, she walks along a dark, emerald, and marble pathway to the tree. As she stands in front of it, Veronica notes how red the pomegranates are and seem to be alive as her. They're round and smooth, reflecting the natural light coming through the windows.
Hesitantly, she tries to grab one from a branch until it drops. When it hits the floor, the pomegranate completely splits itself open down the middle, revealing a rich crimson color of pomegranate seeds. Her stomach begs her to take a bite. She bends down and picks one half then proceeds to take a large bite into it. The corners of her mouth flood with juice, the red staining the floor and her fingers with her stomach grateful. Her taste-buds haven't been this content in a while and the taste of the seeds are like nectar with an acidic aftertaste that wasn't overwhelming. Veronica feels this is the closest to euphoria she can get in a while.
After she finishes eating, spitting out the seeds back into the soil of the tree, she finally lays eyes on the coat hanging onto the tree. A leather jacket the color of coffee hangs, and it seems expensive for there was a lack of evidence it had been worn before. As soon as she puts on the jacket a fragrance of burning cedar, salt, and copper stuff her nostrils. Veronica begins to make her way to the front entrance of the greenhouse.
She opens the door to be greeted by an intense gust of wind. It caresses her hair as she walks along a cobblestone path towards the house, a quarter mile away. Veronica forgot her shoes. Her feet feel cool along the ground but she pulls the jacket closer to her body.
As the house comes further into view, she stops dead in her tracks and feels a wild chill, colder than the wind, clothe her. This feeling was familiar, but she was too busy marveling at the estate. It was the type of home that was only built for horror films set in the 1800's with 10 rooms sheltering ghosts. However, it was in great shape but she still could have mistaken it for an abandoned cathedral. Veronica swears she seen something move in the top right window. She continues to tread upward towards two large doors.
Inside is a huge staircase, decorated with dark red carpet where it splits at the top into two walkways for the left and right wing of the home. The handles are pigmented in dull gold and the walls are a teal color hanging nothing. Even her footsteps echo. As she walks along the marble floor, colored lilac cream, she looks to her right to find a room where she can hear murmuring.
Cautiously, her feet lead her to the room despite her nerves were wracking with uncertainty. Veronica enters and appears at the end of a long table covered in dust. On the other side of that table, a person stands with their back turned and a phone close to their ear. Before she can even speak, they whip around to reveal their face.
ns 172.70.42.207da2
