the flowers that bloomed only for you is a fanfiction. It details life of a delusional cat who is blinded by grief after an incident and runs away to live in a moor. It is in 2nd person and from the cat's point of view.
(WARNING: contains strange fantasies, unhealthy relationships, hallucinations, delusions, trauma-based madness and mentions of blood and ghosts. If any of this makes you uncomfortable please turn away NO
"The flowers in the field stopped blooming, and you wished for new flowers to bloom. But when the new flowers started blooming you couldn't look at them because all you saw were the old ones, dried petals, withered stalks, leaves that would never fall."
Things were going fine; the stars shined and the wind blew, the flowers bloomed and you were in love, and so were They. Why was everyone so worried? You didn't mind though, they were welcome to visit anytime they wanted. You were fine; you had Them and you had your flowers and that was all that mattered.
The story Edit
They are in love, and so are you
They were perfect in every aspect. She was full of mystery; you remember seeing her in the forest and wondering if ghosts were real, because the way she held herself and the way the wind blew through her fur, the dapples in her shadows was so eathereal, other-worldly. She doesn't talk to you, she never did, but she communicates through subtle gazes and blinks. She talks to anyone but you and you begin to wonder if you had done something wrong but from the way she looks at you, something in your mind dissolves and melts and smooths the surface; it's like the thought was never there. She is wind and water, a storm of dried petals, beautiful. Death looked beautiful that way; sky and honey clouds, white, black. She had an elegant of soul, you thought. An elegant sort of soul, shrouded in whispers of eloquence and echoing birdsong.
They were perfect in every aspect. He was something that had fallen out of the sky; something in the snow that burned long after is footprints had faded and you walk over and smell them; they smell of fiery shadows and smoke hearts, the glass of the night. The way he holds himself is confusing and you can never read his expression, but in a way it's showing that he knew what happened, what was happening and what will happen, he doesn't care about your stupid life but he does because he's always asking you question after question, moving forward until both of you are up on the tree and his eyes are staring into yours, burning, smoldering, flooding. The cypress beneath you melts away and so does the sky until it's only you and him and the stars. He had a fiery soul; it burns bright no matter what you do it.
The birds learn to answer to your call. You give them a kind of whistle, and they swoop down, still singing, and sit on the trees. You laugh and you keep doing it because it makes Them happy and if They’re happy so are you, and you watch them walk over your field of flowers.
Your friends are worried about you. They walk over forests and flowers (bloom after bloom after bloom, all crushed underfoot. It made you sad) to come and talk to you. Elli speaks first; the two of you are closest after all. Eli never wanted to belong. Part of you still did and it reminds you of seasons gone by, echoes of scents long forgotten. You ignore it, life was perfect here, just you and Them and the flowers.
"We're worried about you," she begins, her eyes darting nowhere and everywhere, back and forth, back and forth. She doesn't look at you. You're confused. Why were they worrying? Here it was perfect, it was everything; there were beautiful flowers and food and streams and the stars, and there was Them. Maybe you hadn't visited them enough? Guilt stabs at your paws, but it fades, like the stains left by raindrops on roses. It wasn't your fault you were in love, and so were They. Besides, your flowers needed you. "I'm worried about you." What did she have to worry about? The scent of flowers and the birdsong in the air was alluring, and you wondered if you could see it. It was a miracle, it was beautiful, and you could see miracles.
"Look at me." She steps forward and she touches your nose. "You're always staring off into the distance. You never look at us when we talk to you. You never look at me." Her voice cracks and you wonder why she was so sad. "What's wrong?"
You stare at her in shock. Didn't you tell her, time and time again that nothing was wrong? Why did she never believe you? "Nothing's wrong. I'm fine. Do you like my flowers?" Eli doesn't look at the flowers, instead she sighs and so does the rest of your friends. Except, her sigh is sadder and filled with longing. The others sounded exasperated. What did you do? They turned away and walked onward, their paws hitting leaf after leaf after leaf, each blade of grass bending under pressure. Eli turns back with one last, sad look before she walks off and doesn't look back again. "You're welcome to visit anytime soon!" You shout to them. They don't ackknowledge it.
You watch them walk over your field of flowers, the wind blows and the petals scatter into a storm, cloud after cloud after cloud. You watch with wide eyes because she loved flowers and he loved her. The birds keep singing. They talk, always in whispers, murmurs, echoes. You can never hear them but once in a while there was a bright burst of sound and you loved it, you loved hearing her voice (She always talked in birdsong and apple blossom, echoes of raindrops on the grass and the scent of fallen trees and the ghosts that live around them). It was always her that talked, his voice would never come out clear enough.
They didn't come that day and you thought nothing of it; after all, They were in love and so were you, in love with both of them in a way, if love meant you remembered the sound of their paws on the pebbles and their heartbeats, beating as one and one only. You were always one beat behind, but they were in love. They were in love and that was all there was to it. You remember their smiles and you smile too, you wanted them both but you want to be them too. They were something from a fairytale, Her, dainty and fragile in a way that was hard to break, Him, the strong and fiery tom. Birdsong plays in your mind, an intricate scale of sunbeams and snowflakes, breathed in and out by seasons gone by. You continue to care for your flowers. The lilies had never been whiter.
Cats come and stop by. They always did, after all they were in love and so were you. Other cats pass, they look ahead to a destination you can't see. You always wished them a safe journey, but somehow they never responded. Maybe they were tired. You supposed you would be tired too after a sunrise after sunrise of travelling, but they never even stopped to look at the flowers. What was wrong? You grew those flowers just for Them, but why did't they enjoy it too? Why did they all seem to avoid your gaze, what did you do? Weren't the flowers pretty enough? You sigh, you don't know. You didn't need to know. You kept on growing the flowers, poppys, roses, daisies that tickle your paws. You laugh but you choke on it, coughing and coughing until a mess of petals and thorns and blood spill onto the grass in front of you.
It was almost sunrise. You bury the thorns, maybe they will grow the next year, who knows? She came and saw the flowers yesterday. She didn't speak to you (She never does) but that was fine, you were in love and so was She. You think about it and wonder if the passing birds can see the stars in your eyes, and if they can see the flower that you grew so dearly for Them. After all, no one else could. It was just You, Them, and the flowers, and maybe the wind that blows over the grass, it smells of honey and holly berry.
She's here now. She's here with Him, but He ignores you like he always does and you laugh, you know he doesn't mean any harm. She looks at you with a silent gaze, piercing, deep, but warm. She likes your flowers. You smile, you loved your flowers and you loved Her so you were happier than you always were. There was something about her, alway that made you want to stare forever and look away at the same time, and you love it.
A figure rises and you see that it's Eli, her golden fur ripples in the breeze. Her gaze is less worried when she sees you smile at her. She runs over but she doesn't look happy. You decide to look away from her and look at Her, communicating through gazes, your own eyes into Her's, brown and green and bright and exquisite, delicate patterns traced on by nature. You wondered what colour your eyes were. The birdsong plays, again and again and again
You don't turn and look at her, but you hope you can show that you're listening, because you are.
"We need to talk."
Talk? About what? Did she want to some and live here too? You thought about it with a smile on your face, and She agreed too, that would be nice. Except you couldn't tell Eli about Her because Eli might fall in love and although Eli was your friend you liked having love to herself. The birdsong is loud but it doesn't lose it's beautiful, flowery melody and the fragile scent of it.
"Are you even listening to me?"
She takes a step closer to you. "Ignore the birds. Listen to me." Why? They were so beautiful, why should she-
"Stop!" she shouts and suddenly something inside you breaks and it's like your eyes are opening, what's happening, what's happening what's happening? The birds fly away and your ears and fur are suddenly hypersensitive, every little touch was like a stinging jolt, a touch of ice and fire. And you can't see anything, where did it go? The flowers are gone, there isn't any colour, there's only grey grass and bare land that goes on and on and on; where's the stream? Where did the sun go? You're suddenly aware that your fur is shorter than it was, it's clinging to you like some sort of layer. Where are your flowers? Where did They go? You suddenly feel sick, not a physical kind of feel (it was more a thought than a feel anyhow) but more of a deep, strong feeling, grey ad black and blue. Where were They? WHERE were THEY?
"Eli!" You yell. "Where did you take me?" A feeling starts to rise again, she hadn't felt it for a while but it's fiery and red and burning like His eyes.
"I didn't take you anywhere." She sounds scared but you don't care.
"Give Them back! Give Them back! You can't do this!" You scream. "Where did you take Them?! Why won't you answer me? Where have they gone?" You rush up to shake her but your paws are rooted to the ground. "Where did you take them?"
Eli only looks sad.
No one came by.
It’s been a while, you think, and you laugh a bit at that. You sit on a rock. The birds came back and replaced what Eli stole; the flowers grew back, the stream flowed, the wind blew, and the petals scattered, cloud after cloud after cloud. But They would ever come back, and you were afraid They had gone forever. The birdsong isn’t the same anymore, some of the bird left and never came back. The forest isn’t the same without Her ethereal figure, His burning gaze. There was no fairytale couple in love to watch Your flowers and you couldn’t love becausse They weren’t there. A piece of the puzzle has been lost forever; a petal on the rose is missing and you choke once more, except this time it’s lilies, flower after withered flower, petal after blood-stained petal. It tumbles and melts into the ground before you and leaves scatter behind your eyes, flashes of honeycomb, snatches of sunbeam and snowflakes, you’re desperate.
At first it seems there’s nothing, but the rapid beating of wings came back and suddenly a burst of sound comes back; the world brightens into higher definintion. She doesn’t talk to you (She never did) but She smiles and the fire in His eyes become warm for once, before they both walk into the woods. And you don’t question it, because they are in love and so are you.
- We don’t know if the main character is male or female. Personally when I wrote it I imagined it as female but it’s up to your interpretation.
- “part of you wanted to belong”- the main character used to be part of a clan. She/he used to know Eli even after they joined a clan before they left.
- She and He are not real. They originally were real people, but in the moor where the main character now lives they are not. As you can probably guess They are hallucinations/illusions triggered by birdsong. You could say the MC has synesthesia. I based Them off real blogclanners so try and guess who.
- the original story i had in mind was the MC (main character) loved Her, but She loved Him or She used to love the MC or they were close, but the MC did something to make her hate the MC but the MC refuses to belive it so they ran away too that field where, for them, the birdsong made them see a beautiful paradise, whereas for the others they only see a desolate lland. They don’t look at the MC because they believe they are insane.
- You can interpret the coughing flowers however you want. I added it in as in anime fanfiction it’s commonly used to symbol unrequited love.
- props to you if you know who Eli is (pst- she’s from an anime)
- The MC doesn’t hate Him in this story because they idolise HIm. They belive Him is better for Her and that Him is better than they are.
- The flowers are meant to rsymbolise the MC’s lvoe and the things they put themselves through in order to please/make it up to Her.
- Post your own interppretations below
- I might write a sequel