So here is my entry for the seven sins contest. The pairing…well I'll let you decide who it is. I was vague for a reason. I'm not thrilled with how this came out. It seems choppy to me in places but I just want to post it and get it over with. Review…throw tomatoes, whatever. Thanks for reading this.
I own Jack....XD lol...sorry. I own nothing. I just got a terrible pun from writing that...
Green with envy.
I'd often wondered if that was a reference to ivy. Ivy was a beautiful plant, a crawling vine. It thrived in any soil, was self reliant, durable. Hard to dispose of. If kept pruned and in line it grew beautiful, structured, I dare say controlled.
I'd often wondered if that was why my father married my mother. That she was durable, strong, stubborn…or was it that the ivy had climbed over him, wrapping him up and holding to him tightly.
Ivy wasn't meant to be controlled.
Because despite all its qualities, ivy was the most jealous of plants.
It desired lengths, heights, things that it could never have if it remained planted in one spot on the ground. That's why it crept, crawled, twisted around other things. Trees, rocks, fences, bushes. Nothing was safe from the envious plant.
I had never thought of my mother as envious, as ivy, until I came across an older book in my shelves, one that I didn't recognize. One that had been in a stack of book my father had brought into the library.
And it had been a diary. A diary composed entirely of sins and regrets, things done in envy, lust, pride, and wrath. Even the earliest journal entry appeared to reek of jealously. And nearly all contained at least one deadly sin. But still the one that stood out the most was envy.
That deep rooted seed of ivy that grew, consumed everything. Clung and conquered all that it sought to be. With its envy, the plant grew to greater heights, towering over the tallest tree to become that which was closest with God.
I can't stand the people that live past town. The flower shop couple, their daughter…I hate her. She's always smiling and everyone loves her. And even now, since her mother is sick, everyone gives her all their attention.
Yesterday I went to play with Elaina, and Mrs. Ellen wouldn't let me play with her because they were going to that silly flower shop owner. Elaina was going to play with her. If she doesn't stop that I just wont be her friend anymore.
I should be the most important child in this town. My daddy is very important. He always tells me I am the most important child…that no one in this town is above me.
Envy, vanity. I had never known that she had been such a spoiled little girl. And even now, after reading these things, I could see it still. And as the entries became more mature, the subject did not.
The ivy still climbed, overshadowing everything to become most important. It didn't matter what it climbed over, what it overshadowed. Ivy didn't care if in its quest to become greater than an oak that it might strangle the life out of the sturdy tree.
It didn't matter to ivy that because of its envious tendencies it might kill the tree, utterly letting it crash back down to the earth from which the ivy came. Ivy would simply move on to another subject to over power.
I don't like feeling this way, this overwhelming feeling of hatred I have for Lillia. Manna thinks its unhealthy. But I can't help but to feel angry. Even if her mother died not to long ago…
My mother died to, but no one gives me condolences. I don't care if it was a long time ago, it still hurts. At least Lillia got to have her mother for sometime. I barely remember mine. And she doesn't even seem to miss her mother! She keeps walking around with that same stupid smile on her face.
Always wanting that which it can't have, roots becoming deeper, vines becoming stronger. The twisted and snarled, angrily wrapping and clinging to everything. That was how mother was. She didn't want to share, she didn't want to coexist. She simply wanted to be what was most important. The ivy overshadowing all other plant life in her garden. She didn't care if her cruel vines lashed out, snaring those who cared the most about her. Because all Ivy cared about was itself.
I'm getting married. It took a lot of doing, but Basil finally proposed. I know that he was hurt, seeing Lillia accept Rod's feather; but he is better off with me. Lillia seems to be getting weaker, and she would only hinder his desire to explore the world. It might seem selfish, but I'm glad that she accepted Rod's feather. I hadn't been sure after our last talk is she would stop letting Basil pursue her.
But I was right after all. Them being together, regardless of love, would only end in him resenting her for hindering his dream. Even if she wasn't ill, their state of poverty would prevent that…
Ivy was vain plant, trying its best to look beautiful amongst numerous colorful plants. It made its leaves waxy, shiny in the sun light. It curled around objects to give the viewer an illusion of a playful vine. But the truth was that ivy was simply the most wrathful plant that you could fine.
Climbing, crawling, creeping, ensnaring…trapping. Ever the insatiable surge of envy that grew in that sinful vine.
It's been several seasons since Basil, little Mary and I have returned back to Mineral Town. Back to my roots. I feel that the tour of the countryside have done me well in emotional growth. But I had grown weary of the constant travels, and had persuaded Basil that traveling was no way to start a family. And I have a beautiful daughter as a result.
Imagine my surprise when I ran into a familiar ever smiling face today. Lillia had a young boy, ever the image of Rod clinging to her dress skirt, and a baby in her arms. We talked for awhile before Rod walked up behind her, arm wrapping adoringly around her shoulder. Basil…never held me that way, or smiled at me the way Rod does her.
And that's what my mother did. She trapped the things closest to her. Clung to the things she cared about, or the things she desired. And she strangled the life and joy out of those things that angered her…
Lillia has been very sick. And with Rod's leaving her I can't blame her. I didn't know that the man would go look for that flower to heal her when I mentioned it. I had simply been trying to instill false hope with a flower that was mere legend. And that silly man packed up and left without a second thought. And for the first time since I've known the woman, that stupid smile isn't playing on her face…
Ivy sought to be the most beautiful, the most important, even if it wrapped around and utterly destroyed other lives. Because all Ivy cared about was itself.
I closed my own diary, and then put my mother's back into my desk drawer, intending to continue reading another day. I let my pen tap on my desk, pulling out blank paper to begin a new novel. But for the first time in a long time, I couldn't find the words. So I closed my eyes, and for the first time in a long time…
I felt my hands curving, bringing the fine line up and curved, around and upward. I didn't need to watch what I was doing, and I kept my eyes closed, frustration and resentment seeping through my body and into the ink that smeared across the paper. I continued on until my hand cramped up, and I looked down, seeing the ugly snaring vine, clingingly greedily to the paper, wrapping around all the borders. I didn't bother to draw any leaves. This ivy was so twisted it had long ago lost all its leaves, any sense of beauty that it once held gone by the snaring and twisting and choking it did to those things it sought to cling to.
The vine was thick, wrapped so tightly that in many places you couldn't tell what it had originally tried to wrap around. But in the center of that drawing was a blank area, left empty in my trance. And I blinked at it, pen hesitantly moving over the area. But my hand wavered, and dropped the pen to the desk, trembling. I couldn't draw it there. Because if I did…
My only chances of leaving this deceitful garden would be gone. The ivy would wrap around me, as it did my library…
And it would trap me. And keep out all of those who tried to save me. I only hoped that when my salivation came...
That it wouldn't be seduced by the ivy…
It wouldn't take it at face value…
That it wouldn't be swayed and taken away by the envious plant.
But it was too late for that wasn't it?
I snapped my head up when I heard the door open, seeing an all to familiar painted smile. One that never quite reached this dark green eyes.
"Mary darling…its time to come inside. Dinner is ready. You don't want to keep you father waiting. He does hate a cold meal," she chided as she watched me hesitantly stand. I looked down at my desk, staring at the snarled image on the paper.
"Coming mother…" I whispered, slipping the drawing into my desk drawer and closing it away.
"You're not still mad about what I said to that boy are you?" she asked, and I could see her lips curling up into a sick grin. I didn't say anything, but she continued on. "He's entirely unfit to be a proper suitor for my little girl," she said firmly, a finger coming up to brush across her chin. "I haven't seen the brute in here since we exchanged words. I'm glad he has seen things my way."
I could feel that opening growing smaller with each and every word, and I held back tears behind my eyes, refusing to let her see how much she had me trapped in her garden.
And suddenly the door burst open, the cool spring breeze floating in and causing some stray papers on my desk to flutter about. I blinked at the doorway, unable to stop the elated grin that spread across my face. And my eyes went to what he held in his large calloused hand, a gasp leaving me at the sight of the soft blue color.
How long had it been since I was able to see the sky here? How long had it been since I could taste my freedom from this hideous garden?
Without thinking I thrust my hand out of the small opening of ivy, clutching to the hand that reached out for me from the blue sky. And I clung to it as tightly as I had seen ivy do to others through out my life. And the Ivy clung to me. But this man…this wonderful man was strong enough to break me free.
I looked back once…
And saw the ivy crawling after us. But it was so slow…it could never catch us.
I would never be in that garden again.