Charred Soul

She was walking down the hallway. Steam from scorched rooms penetrated her clothes making her feel claustrophobic and sweaty. As she walked, she was vaguely aware of her wild unruly hair sticking to her face; all she could think of was her garden. Her lovely rose and honeysuckle patches lined with crisp potent lavender and jasmine. Her precious garden in which she slaved for hours on, striving for perfection and complete serenity. She almost sobbed to think that she wasted her whole life obsessing on that piece of grass that became her life's canvas. Licks of flames had consumed it greedily within moments while she watched from her bedroom window.

The dark shadow of the perpetrator loomed in the background, probably sneering at the garden flaming slowly. Her house was all but burned to the ground now, except for the one hallway left, in which she found herself trudging down mindlessly. She was completely and utterly shocked; her mind recoiled into the darkest depths of her head. With no one around to witness the tragedy she was alone to the fullest extent. She had no more purpose in this cruel world. The divine flowers that were the symbol of her vitality and heart were now burned along with her soul. All that was left was an empty shell, bettered and weak.

"Once the see grows
It blooms to a flower
Beautiful and bold it bestows.
Life, cheery life, it grows like a tower...." The old rhyme haunted her as she stepped on the ashes of her garden. Sweet tears flowed down her face.