The blossom of the plant, attracting insects, and the organ that allows you to see, a portal to the soul; together they meant to convey a sense of dreamlike irrationality, disconnecting from reality, and the subconscious nature of the mind.
Schemile Brown, a fourth-year student at MMNHS, is known for her beauty. Like a flower, she blooms elegantly and attracts a lot of insects. Wherever she goes, Schemile would just effortlessly captivate hearts. She was also a big fan of worldwide personality celebrities and rich people, to the point that she also aspires to be an artist one day. But despite Schemile's appealing charm and perfection, she held a deep yearning. It reached for far higher standards and went beyond the limits of satisfaction. She desired a life like the ones she watched on TV shows and unrealistic standards. A life filled with fame and fans, and a figure characterized by a flawless body.
Spending millions of money just to renew herself, trying to improve and erasing her 'ugly' side. And it was still not enough; Leviathan had already consumed all her ideals.
Yet, for somehow her reality was set back when she met Ezekiel Manalo, her junior in science class. Schemile felt horrible just by looking at herself. She is just a girl, and her efforts were somehow tarnished by some who had better feminine features than her? She just stares at pretty people blankly, with nothing to do…she would just let herself sleep as her unreachable desires slowly swallows her.
Schemile then woke up the next day to an unclear reality. Her complexion, which had once been bright, had turned pale, and she felt a cold, unsettling chill run down her spine. This time, however, her pain wasn't physical. It was not so much discomfort as it was more like an ache, an itch that seeps into your bones. A disgusted reaction to the haunting gaze staring back from within her eyes, she felt a sight of horror upon seeing her own reflection in the mirror.
In a moment of disbelief, she wept as she saw the profound changes in herself. Her features were altered by a noticeable weight loss, her skin was all peeled, and mysterious flower buds had bloomed within the range of her skin that got wounded. One thing she noticed was that there were tiny eyes that were surrounded by petals. She tried plucking them out, enduring the heavy bleeding. And within minutes—new flower buds emerged.
They blinked.
At first, slowly…curiously—then all at once, fluttering like a grotesque garden of consciousness. They weren't just growing. They were watching.
Her sobs turned into screams as vines began to twist beneath her skin, pulsing like veins, threading up her neck and blooming behind her ears. She tore at them with trembling hands, but the more she struggled, the more her body betrayed her. Each gash gave birth to new life: thorns splitting her nails, roots tearing through muscle, petals unfurling beneath her eyelids.
Her voice cracked, then choked, as a thick, amber sap filled her throat and spilled from her lips. Her mouth became a silent blossom. She fell to her knees, gagging on sweetness that stank of rot.
Her name is now a symbol for a person who is not human anymore. A monster she was, instinctively reacting to a bizarre reality, causing profound changes that threaten to upheave more than just emotions that were tearing apart from the edges of her composure. She reasoned that this couldn't be true, that this was all just a dream. The lack of explanations for her sudden appearance worsened her situation, as it wasn't her choice. She had no one to blame, and the horror of her transformation fuelled nightmares she had to face.
A more complicated and unexpected turn of events occurred when someone noticed how she had changed. Overwhelmed by her new appearance, the anonymous person took advantage of the opportunity to take pictures of her and posted them on their school's internet page.
The compelling caption accompanying the photos read, "This is Schemile Brown now; the person we once used to admire, the campus beauty, had turned into such a creepy horrid thing."
The post featured side-by-side glimpses of Schemile Brown, her former self emitting admiration as the campus beauty, and the current transformed version that evoked a haunting sentiment.
Everything turned upside down. Schemile's eyes were overcome with immense sorrow as she read the comments, tears running down her cheeks, focusing on the sharp contrast between her perfect past self and her unwavering desire to become even better.
The unbearable weight of her grief forced her to make the terrifying choice of taking her own life at the lowest point of her despair. Her lifeless form stared blankly at her reflection in the bathroom mirror as she bowed her head with a heavy heart. Her eyes, still red and swollen from so much crying, were visible through what remained of her tears. Schemile, a poor, sorrow-stricken soul, had already suffered enough, and her death made the pain even greater.
And then—stillness.
The girl was gone.
What remained was a hollow husk rooted into the tiles, a monstrous bouquet of flesh and flora. The petals blinked lazily in unison, as if sighing. Waiting. Listening.
And somewhere deep within the blooms, her heart still beat—slowly, unnaturally, like the rhythm of a new life that never asked to be born.