**_(I know this doesn’t match up with the prompt but this was for a completion and I couldn’t finish it because I submitted it and wasn’t ready then I deleted it so I’m just placing it on here because I liked it)_**__ __ _Dandelions._ __ __ They do what they must to survive, deattaching each part of themself and splitting apart so they can regrow and repeat the process. Dressed as a flower but kicked aside like a weed, as fragile as life itself but resilient on keeping themselves alive no matter how much they’re hated or kicked. Their pieces scatter across the world in hopes to eventually come back around. And they always do. I wish I were like them. Strong, beautiful, whimsical, and quick to start anew when things get hard instead of giving up. Despite being seen as a flower, like me, it’s only a weed. Just like how I’m the only weed in a field of flower. Fragile, quick to leave, annoying, and sprouting where I don’t belong. Not dying even after being chopped and cut into pieces and spat on like trash. Always pretending to be something I’m not, sprouting pathetic yellow bulbs in hopes to become a flower. My world was always dark and monochrome, at least until it burst up into flames. Little clumps of dandelion flying high alongside the window of the helicopter. Loud whirling overwhelmed my ears, the only peace was the ever so whimsical yet resounding cloud of fuzz. It was the only thing hiding me from the dark, desolate, and steaming island below. The higher we went, the easier breathing had become. The higher we went the further I got from home and the more the **void** in my chest expands. Beating still, a heart sits alone in the darkness. ~~~~~~ _Spring_ Rainy days, muddy grounds and bright green grass. Flower sprout from the ground, birds chirp, and weeds try to hide between the bushes. But not these. I stood in front of a wooden cabin, a safe haven. At least for now, while I’m still young and seen as useless to society. Until I’m compensated for my terrors. _Hah-_who_ _am I kidding? As if the goverenmrnt cared for its people. The wooden planks were stacked up upon each other unevenly, so perfectly imperfect. To the side of it was a clear stream, a relaxing sound so opposed to the bubbling and roaring of the volcano. So devastatingly slow and scarily fast. Dandelions drifted in the wind, swaying side-to-side. Circling the cabin like magic, a dreamy world far away from the corruption I pretend I don’t live in. Something I wished was just a figment of my imagination. Coming and going just like spring. Growing back just like dandelions. I sat in the fields, the tickling fuzz of dandelions brush my face, a sweet scent of nature. Almost as if all that smoke was just a dream. _Choking, that’s all I could remember._ __ _Screeching sirens. Screaming. Bursts of red and orange and black._ __ _Panic. _**_Run._**_ _**_GET AWAY. _**_That was all I can think of as my barefeet padded as fast as it could, carrying me far, far away as I could. Barely even stopping when I stepped into a sharp rock or a piece of glass. Adrenaline choke through my head, pumping blood of my throat mixed along with the ash and smoke in the air._ __ _Screams of people getting boiled and burned alive. People who..weren’t so fortunate._ __ _Not even taking a second to breathe, my little legs carried me onto the nearest helicopter. Four other people hopping along with me, or just panicked and worn out as me. Smudges of dark ash spread across my face, leaving me still choking as I got off._ __ __ I winced, as if it were still freshly ingrained in my mind, as if it hasn’t been two years. A horrific experience that still haunts me to this day every time I tried to heal and look back. But it’s better. It **_will_** be better. After all.. It’s a new Spring Growth.

It was cheap, that’s why she got it. Perhaps it was just the heat of the moment—instantly drawn. Badly rusted. Missing gems. Bending metal. All noticable things that indicate how she shouldn’t have gotten it. It was priced at a mere fifteen cents, a steal, at first glance. Hidden beneath layers of dusty jackets, Lori noticed it in the corner of her eye. A breeze blowing her hand closer, as if it were fate. The cashier, a surprising young woman, seemed almost surprised when Lori threw the ring on the crabby counter. “Just this?” the woman inquired. She gave the girl a skeptical look, as if she was doubting the ring. “Yes.. Could I also get a box to carry it?” Lori added, after a moment of thought. .. A black leather box in pocket, I stopped at an empty curb in a nearby alley. Coughing when I stepped between the slightly dim brick-covered walls. I pulled out the ring, it seemed to swirl in the center. I blinked once. Then twice. There nausea, then iron, and then it was dryness. “Uugh..” I muttered, scratchy at my throat. There was a voice, then another. All saying things I could not comprehend, as if I didn’t speak whatever they were speaking. “Do yo..think…s….chosen one.?” What. The. Fuck.