With my muscled physique, scrunched up face, and perpetually balled fists, I looked nothing like Magnolia or Dahlia or Jasmine. So why was my name Wisteria?
"Wisteria Fabaceae, stripped to your very soul, you are a creature of immense respect, a symbol of reverence." Galaxy proclaimed, holding a snipped vine of the flower between his thumb and forefinger. He raised it high for the audience to see. The entirety of the community was there, two hundred people staring intently at the tiny purple flowers in Galaxy's hand. They were looking with immense awe; I with complete shock.
"You are a being who honors others devoutly, but must beware being too obsessive in love, you, Wisteria-"
"No. Not Wisteria. Anything but that." I exploded. "Well, not anything, but something else, I need another name!"
Galaxy whipped around sharply. A cross between an inhalation and a snort came out of him. I wasn't supposed to interrupt. No one ever had. But the shock of my actions acted more as a boost of adrenaline rather than a deterrent.
"This name you've given me, it's all wrong. My future is being determined by the name you've given me, my powers are determined by the name you've given me, and yet, you've given me a terrible name. I can't ever look at myself in the mirror and call myself Wisteria. Can you?" I brought myself so close to the Galaxy's face he could see my shaking shoulders, so close my ragged breathing could fog up his stained glass-like eyes. He looked away, because he, too, knew I looked nothing like Wisteria.
He only had to take one look at the line of newly-minted Azaleas and Lavenders to know. They were Floras, those meant to have the temperament a lamb. I was more like a charging bull. I was certain I was a non-Flora at my core, and there was some mistake. They were the human embodiment of sweet nothings, while nothing in me was sweet. They were soft, I was all sharp edges.
"Wisteria," Galaxy said calmly, "you know I didn't choose your name. Your name and ability were perfectly chosen for you by the universe. You were crafted in the stars, and the moon gave you your name. I am only the messenger."
His words seeped into my ears like boiling lava. I knew if I stayed any longer I would mercilessly raze everything in sight, or worse, cry. So I belted away from the tiny ceremony. I didn't know where I was going except away. My mind was still blurry, but my feet knew what to do. My body always knew what to do, even when my mind didn't. Finally, when I was far enough, I collapsed and started ripping grass out of the ground. I hurled clumps at nearby trees until I calmed down.
When my blood stopped boiling, I decided to try out my powers. I would have never guessed that according to the universe and stars and moon, it was apparently...I sighed. I thrust my hand into the dirt and outgrew a Wisteria vine, as perfect and delicate and insufferable as the ones Galaxy had. Wisteria.
"Hey, Wisteria." My "friend" was standing over me. "Guess who you can call Angus now? Watch this." A nearby boulder split in two. I ignored him, he merely laughed. "At least I got cool powers, Stick Figure." He kicked my wooden leg.
"That's not my real name, Wisteria or Stick Figure. But at least it isn't Angus, then my power would be creating terrible nicknames."
"Fine, I think of a new one. Twiggy, Brushwood...well, the nickname quality isn't going to change that piece of driftwood stuck to your body. You're, like, twenty percent tree."
"Well, you clearly know nothing about math. I'd guess I'm at least seventeen percent, but certainly not a twig or even a splinter greater than-"
"That's your biggest problem, you know. You never shut up. And you'd challenge a squirrel to a death match. And you're 'too obsessive in love'. Who knew you loved me?" Angus smirked. "I was certainly in the dark."
"You know that's not true!" I couldn't take his inane remarks anymore. "I would never-"
"Hey, no need to be so sad, it was the universe who named you, you will accommodate. Deep down, Wisteria is you." Angus teased.
"I think it's random. Flora or non-Flora name, it's all arbitrary."
"So you think your whole being was just a random occurrence? Get real, Woodchuck."
My brain was numb, but I let my fist fly into his face, knocking him down and leaving him with a smug expression and a broken nose. Angus, smirking, sauntered away as if unharmed. I suppose Floras weren't well known for their strength.
But I was never destined to be a Flora, no matter what that kook Galaxy said. If I want to be non-Flora...
I waited for the stars and moon to emerge before I started back for my hut. On my way back, I glared at them. Wisteria? Of all the names, Wisteria? I don't know if I expected them to sneer at me or look away guiltily, yet I was disappointed when they did not respond. The stars twinkled on innocently, and the moon kept its stony expression.
I crept in silently, praying my parents had embraced sleep. If only they snored, then it would be obvious. Sneaking into my bed, breath held, I shut my eyes and hoped they weren't awake, and I wouldn't have to hear them say-
"Wisteria?" My mother stood over me, anxious for my mental wellbeing. Usually my dad handled any punishment in the family, but I assume he delegated the job of staying up late to deal with me to my mom. He needs a good night of rest.
"Don't call me Wisteria, please. It's not me."
She looked personally wounded to hear that. "But it's your name now. Naming is an important rite of passage...would you prefer I still called you 'it', or by your meaningless name, 'Fletcher'? Why would you want to be treated like a child?"
Her tone wasn't biting or cruel in the least. She spoke softly and gently and always guiltily, as if she was constantly responsible for the world's faults. I suppose at the moment the fault was raising me incorrectly. Her blue eyes, the exact shade of a river, were clouded over.
"Perhaps I would like to be treated like a child. You rarely reprimanded me then for anything. You let me run free even after you saw bloody dirt on my knees."
She sighed and looked down at her hands. "I thought you would have a non-Flora name back then. But now that you're Wisteria...there are more rules."
I huffed angrily. "Well, deep down, I'm never going to be a Flora. And it's not that I want to avoid responsibility or spend my life hunting and wrestling. Even if there were no stupid norms surrounding Floras and non-Floras and both were equal in every way, I would still want to be non-Flora."
My mother was almost ready to cry. Her river eyes were about to become waterfalls. "Wisteria, whatever it is you want to be called-"
"Olive, surprisingly, I'm fond of Olive."
"-I'm sorry I failed you as a mother, just know that all your sins fall upon my head, I bred them inside you and now they feed."
"Stop it, shut up!" I leaped out of bed and yelled. Still, my father slept soundly. "Whether you like it or not, I will continue to call myself Olive and I will be non-Flora. I will force
Galaxy to change my name tomorrow. But it isn't your fault, the blame is mine and mine alone! I'm not your tail, I'm not part of you, I'm your kid, and what I do wrong isn't your problem!"
I regretted my outburst immediately. Everything sentiment I expressed I knew was true, even if I hadn't given them any thought before, but I hadn't polished them before they poured out. Like always. Now my mom's tears evaporated, but the contorted expression of pain and shame on her face stung more than any uncontrollable sobbing could.
"Wisteria, please, at least accept a compromise," my mother said.
This was ridiculous. I shut my eyes and ran from the house. I had to find Fletcher.