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White Tiger Lilies
Three years. Three years of living in that small gray building right beyond that corner. See it? The building full of little boys and girls seeking a home they’ll never find. Three years, and I was finally led by a stranger’s hand to a ‘family’.
“This one, ma’am?” The stranger says.
“Yes, the one with the dark red locks.” I recoil when I meet them. A woman, slender and sylphlike. A man with a cold, angelic face. And a little girl, not more than two years old, with a head full of black hair and a tight stubby face.
“Home.” They say earnestly, beckoning me into a mansion surrounded by beautiful white tiger lillies.
“Home.” I echo slowly, tasting the sly, filthy word in my mouth.
--
I find myself submerged in these white tiger lillies that surround their mansion. These innocent, pure flowers. Daunting, alluring, beckoning me, their white surface splattered with beautiful, dark red spots. I watch these flowers swaying in the wind, their dark red spots swirling in a haze of blood red. The stubby girl with the messy black hair runs up to me, shouting gleefully, yet I hear something else echoing in my head. Is this really your home? Ha! Who is really your family? The haze of red seems to turn darker, until it seems like nothing more but a silent mass of voices, calling me in. I scrunch my face and reach into my shirt pocket, a sharp glint of something silver shining in the sun. There isn’t even a scream.
--
I walk back to the mansion in a trance...slowly and silently, wiping my hands along the sides of my jeans.
“Mother.” I say sweetly, my eyes boring intensely into hers. She walks quickly toward me. “Let’s go out for a walk in the fields.” Hesitantly, I hold her hand, sliding through the flowers swiftly as if I am made of the wind. She looks at me.
“Wow. The color of the red spots on the white tiger lillies seem so beautiful this year, like the color on the sides of your jeans.” She remarks thoughtfully. I stare blankly, talking in barely above a whisper.
“Sit down. I have a special surprise for you.” As if in slow motion, I watch her from behind, reaching into my pocket once again, the sharp silver glint flashing. It’s weird though. Somehow, doing this is making me smile.
--
This time, I’m almost at a skip back home. “Father.” I urge. “There’s something really intriguing about the lilies this year. I was just talking to mother about it.” He pokes his pale face out, looking at me with his cold, hard stare. A twisted glint in my eyes, I pull him out of the house.. “Father. Don’t you see? Look at the dark red spots.” He bends down, his face thoughtful, yet questioning.
“They do seem extra bright this year. Though it does smell a little odd…”
--
I’m grinning now. The satisfaction seems to be coming in waves. I’m running back to the mansion gleefully, my hands waving in the air. I’m jumping into thorns and bumping into trees, yet it’s making me happier. But satisfied? No. Not really. There seems to be something missing. Wait. Wait just second. What about you, my friend? Wouldn’t you like to come play with me? Just look out in front of you. Aren’t these beautiful white tiger lilies so captivating? Just a little closer. Come examine the flowers. Don’t you love that feeling, as if you’re surrounded by a different world? No? You sure? Oh, that’s okay. Then you will be with family in no time.
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I love writing, music, linguistic puzzles, and computer science. Her work has been recognized by the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards Contest and the New York Times. In her free time, she enjoys writing short stories and poetry, and she can often be found indulging in a green tea and sesame soft serve ice cream combo from her local Matcha Love ice cream shop. This horror story/pscyhological thriller came to be after reading one too many Edgar Allan Poe short stories.