The Garden

Deep in the garden, where crying carnations and dancing daisies lie, so did a girl the size of a small sunflower. She trilled and skipped through the swaying safety of the greenery. The leaves twirled and the grass spun. Tendrils of ivy and ropes of roses snaked above. The girl ducked between billowing branches and tremendous trees. The thick smell of flowers and fog was heavy in the midnight.

A rustle in a shivering bush caught the girl’s eye. Quick as an owl she swooped down to the shrub, attempting to peer inside. The bush shook in protest, its leaves huddled tight. The girl noticed something alive inside and cooed, “I’m not going to hurt you little thing, I just want to play!”

The blades bent in defeat revealing a dark bundle. The girl blinked in surprise as bright eyes stared back at her. She reached out and took the bundle in her grasp. The leave fronds gave way to a stream of moonlight. A second tiny girl stepped into the luminous rays.

The first girl jumped with joy at the sight of another kid and exclaimed, “My name is Celestine! Wanna play?! I’m so bored! Why were you in the bush anyway?” Her flurry of questions was met with a confused stare. Celestine deflated at the lack of response.

The tiny girl noticed Celestine’s obvious gloom and hastily murmured, “I’m Agatha.”

“Agatha . . .” Celestine tasted the name on her tongue. “Well, Agatha, do you like to play tag?!”

The new girl—Agatha—nodded. Her blonde curls bounced around her head as she shifted nervously. With a rush, Celestine took off. Agatha stood still, unsure of what to do, but the sudden brush of a flower bud on her back sent her running after Celestine in panic.

***

The two girls, now teenagers, ran hand in hand through the undergrowth. The shrubbery made way for them, bending and bowing to part for the pair. Attractive azaleas fluttered their petals at the sight of the girls. The endless rows of flowers perked up like the girls were the sun they needed to live. The two twirled, their feet skidding and thumping against the leaf-littered ground. Laughter filled the starry sky as they tumbled through the thick bushes. The girls landed on their backs with a loud thud against the soft grass. Celestie sprawled across Agatha, the two twined together like vines.

“Agatha, I love playing with you in the garden,” Celestine stated between giggles. The orchids and irises shook their bulbs in agreement.

“Me too,” Agatha murmured shyly. The two girls lay there, gazing up at the constellations. The splats of white in the sky winked at them and Agatha flustered, shifting at the stars’ suggestion. A moment of silence filled the foggy air, accompanied by the occasional cricket song or flower whisper.

“I wish . . . we could stay like this—forever,” Agatha whispered between her hands.

Celestine looked solemnly at her friend. “Me too.”

She placed a peony behind Agatha’s ear. Celestine cupped her friend’s face in her soft hands. Agatha’s eyes always looked sorrowful, like they knew some distant, desolate future.

“You know . . . the flowers told me about something cool earlier.” Celestine breathed low, like it was a secret for Agatha’s ears only.

Her friend’s eyes widened in surprise. “You were here earlier? As in during the day? What if the guard sees you—”

Celestine cut Agatha’s words off with a brush of her finger against her face.

“Just follow me,” Celestine purred.

The two teens took off hand in hand down the royal pathways. Leaves waved happily at their presence. The lofty wilderness seemed to be carved from their frequent passing. Suddenly, a wall of sharp ivy loomed in front of them. Celestine brushed her hand against the greenery and it hunched over and gave way. The sharp thorns were now soft.

Celestine pushed past the thin brush and pulled Agatha into a clearing. Agatha gasped at the view in front of her. What she thought was thick undergrowth, was instead a wide clearing carved deep into the bushes. Blue and green hues danced in the swaying tendrils of leaves and stems. Flowers protruded proudly from the soft earth. Slight rays of silver moonlight shone in cracked streams through the thick root roof.

“This is—I mean—it’s just—” Agatha stuttered out.

“Beautiful,” Celestine finished, staring at Agatha, her eyes full of starlight.

***

Now a young women, Agatha waited, brushing her hand against the green grass that waved back at her. She listened in on the flowers’ gossip as she hummed a tune she had picked up from the castle beyond. A loud crash and distant cursing made Agatha shoot upright. Thorns quivered in anticipation around her. Celestine stomped through the bush.

“I am to be wed!” she roared, despair thick in her voice.

“What!?” Agatha cried out.

“I am to be wed,” Celestine repeated, her back slumping.

Agatha rushed forward to clutch her friend by the shoulders. “What do you mean!?” she exclaimed.

“I am to be married to Prince Feston of Gildenburg. I have no choice in the matter!” The two women crumbled like wilting lilies. They wrapped each other in their arms.

“That means—You’re leaving, right? They are making you go? The woman never stays, does she?” Agatha breathed.

Celestine shook her head, grief-stricken. “I will never see you again.” The words hung thick in the air. Like a looming promise that neither wanted to accept.

The following nights were filled with grief and anticipation. Even the usually vibrant colors of the garden had dulled. The sky cried and the sun mourned. The two women held each other, trying to soak in each other’s company as much as possible before the departure. They begun sleeping in the garden, curled beneath the folding ferns and root-wet stalks.

Days later, the women sat underneath a rose bush.

“It’s not fair!” Celestine huffed. “Feston is an eel of a man. I don’t want to be his bride, and I don’t want to be by his side forever! I want to be by y—” Celestine cut off her rant with a sudden halt. She turned her head over to look at Agatha, who was forking fingers through her curls, looking distant. Celestine rested her hand on Agatha’s.

“I want,” Agatha slowly turned her gaze to Celestine, “to be by your side too.” Agatha barely breathed the words. Silence hung in the clearing. the moonlight making Agatha’s skin look opalescent. Tears slowly streamed down Celestine’s face as she pulled Agatha into a tight hug.

“Was it ever meant to be?” Agatha choked out between sobs.

“I wish it was, oh, how I wish it was.” Celestine uttered into Agatha’s shaking shoulder.

***

Dogs howled and men yelled in the distance. The day had come.

“We must go!” screamed Celestine.

“But-but! Your life! Your future! Your everything! They will have your head for this!” Agatha screeched.

“There is no future for me without you in it!” Celestine wailed.

Agatha heaved, her choked sobs drowned out by the shouts and barks drawing ever nearer. The bushes of blue shook wildly. The trees quaked and the flowers trembled violently. With one final pull, Celestine dragged Agatha to her feet, but she still wouldn’t move.

“Over here! Check the royal garden!”

“Get more dogs!”

“Close in!”

The thunderous barks and howls crashed through the air.

“Please, Agatha! We must go! Please!” Celeste’s desperate pleas were growing more and more muffled beneath the tremulous clamor. A nearby strike of lightning illuminated the womens’ faces. One agonizingly desperate, one shattered.

With one last dry heave, Agatha stood and nodded gravely to Celestine. Hand in hand, the two sprinted off. The crash of branches and strike of leaves echoed through the garden as the two women fled through the night. The snap of dogs’ jaws and the hitched breaths of their aggressors were close behind. Leaves scattered and vines hurled out of the path. The flowers tried to weave out of the way of their fleeing feet. The thumping of the dog’s swift paws was growing nearer, sending sharp pangs of horror through the women’s trembling hearts. Green and blue hues shifted to black and red. Thorns quaked on wilting roses. The stink of storm and torches blasted through the air. Across the garden, the women catapulted themselves to the edge of the castle grounds.

Fleeing hand in hand, Agatha and Celestine burst out of the garden walls, into the unknown beyond.