The smell of dried apricots and cinnamon is the first clue.
When Blossom Utonium opened her eyes, she finds herself in a bed that's incredibly warm and soft with a thick, fluffy blanket. Examining the bedroom, Blossoms took notice of the toys scattered on the floor and the baby pictures posted on the walls; A mother, perhaps? On the shelves, there's an entire collection of William Shakespeare tightly stacked with the pieces of literature of Jane Austins and Frances Hodgson Burnett pieced in the stack; An avid reader of the classics, most likely.
Rising from the bed, Blossom discovered the bandages wrapped around her midsection. There's a sharp pain in her side, forcing her to put a slight pressure on it to ease the ache. Seeing the familiar bandages on her wrist, Blossom was relieved to find it still present. However, she noticed it was starting to unravel.
"My abomination, don't conceal the beast that's meant to be. Let the monster thrive, and it'll consume the world into a new."
Shivering, Blossom quickly tightened the bandages and securely tucked in the leftovers. Monsters can't create havoc if they're bound in their confinement.
This time, Amare, I'm in control of my demons.
Deep in her thoughts, Blossom barely caught the sound of footsteps approaching the room's door. When the door opened, Blossom snapped her head at the entrance of the newcomer- roses drowning in the warm comfort of the sea's embrace, their eyes bring a sense of familiarity to Blossom.
"Ms. Keane," Blossom quietly whispered in a wavering uncertainty. Her eyes widened and her mouth agape, Blossom could barely breathe. When she's pulled into the woman's arms, Blossom couldn't restrain the tears that fell.
"Hello Blossom," Ms. Keane said with a soft smile to her former pupil, crying in rejoice as she pulled the girl into an embrace. "You haven't seemed to age a bit, have you? You're still the same as you were when I last saw you."
Hearing those words, she wailed. Inside, Blossom screamed for the lost memories that could've been. She cried for the nights that she couldn't comfort Bubbles and the days when Buttercup needed her- but, she couldn't be found. Blossom begged for a second chance, but the prayer is left unheard to the world that's unwilling to listen.
And, for Blossom, it's a truth that she uttermost resented with bitter annoyance.
"Blossom," Ms. Keane quietly reassured her, "we knew that our girl would come back to us. You're in my arms, and I'll be damn before you're torn away from me again. Now, You're safe."
There's mucus dripping from her nose with a pair of eyes that are puffed and a face that's the color of rosemary. However, even if Blossom appeared like a disaster, there's still a bright smile present; her eyes crinkled and cheeks bone pronounced. "Ms. Keane, you don't know how long I've wanted to hear those words."
Blossom was safe, and she was free. The people in the palace harmed her, but they didn't destroy her. There are scars, and there are bruises. However, she prospered.
To see my girls all grown-up, that's my dream.
Bubbles with an assertiveness that'll have the villains quivering in fright.
Buttercup with a self-control that'll demolish the doubts and bring on the praises.
To know that they're waiting for me, I couldn't be happier.
At this newfound hope for salvation against this dystopia, Blossom rejoiced.
The bathroom was spacious with the white tiles complementing the beige painted-walls that surrounded her. In the bathtub, Blossom finds herself soaked to the bone with a fragrance of apples. The child shivered as the water is dumped on her head, curling into herself to retain heat.
Seeing this display, Ms. Keane chuckled. She rinsed the shampoo off Blossom's hair, covering the girl's eyes when she'd pour the water.
"Warmth is a luxury," Ms. Keane stated, her thoughts seemed to drift. "In this part of town, the water- that's used for bathing, washing, and keeping hydrated- is from the rainwater that's collected in the secured barrels and wells. Barely anyone heats their water unless they're cooking or drinking it. In this era, everyone's time is limited. And, maximum efficiency is the key to success." When Blossom's hair is free of the bubbles, Ms. Keane gently rubbed it with a small towel.
It would be easier if I didn't have long hair, it requires too much maintenance and supplies then I'm able to afford.
Committed to her decision, Blossom turned her body to meet the gaze of Ms. Keane. "Ms. Keane, I'd like to cut my hair. Having this length, it's quite impractical don't you think?"
Ms. Keane stared at her former student in surprise." But Blossom, you've always had long hair," she replied in astonishment.
Blossom rolled her eyes in a friendly manner. "I know, but everything will be more efficient if I don't have "daily maintenance hair" on my routine," Blossom dryly stated with a smile.
Ms. Keaned huffed, but she gave the girl's wishes. "If you're determined to follow this decision, then I'll support you. How much? Perhaps, waist-length?"
"I was thinking of...shoulder-length."
Ms. Keane's eyes widened in disbelief. "Blossom that's shorter than Buttercup's hair," Ms. Keane cried in utter fright.
"Meh."
Standing on the balls of her feet, Daisy stared at the teenager in wonderment. Back from another adventure, Daisy discovered Ms. Blossom in their kitchen, sipping from a mug- with the mild scent of bergamot, Daisy theorizes it's Earl Grey. With a pencil and notebook at hand and a peanut butter sandwich in her mouth, Daisy was the epitome of readiness. Daisy was excited because she'd finally have a chance to ask all of her questions that's been nagging her.
After a few hours ago, Ms. Keane disappeared for an errand, leaving Blossom with a hyperactive five-year-old. In many ways, Daisy looked like the carbon-copy of her mother, except for the hair styled in pigtails and freckles sprinkled on her cheeks.
With a soft chuckle, Blossom was happy for the girl's enthusiasm for knowledge. With an enormous hoodie that engulfed most of her frame and a companion to keep company, Blossom is in a state of comfort. She was given black yoga pants, forced to roll the sleeves and use safety pins to make it fit. With the foreign brushes against her shoulders, the hair's length felt like an oddity- Blossom couldn't stop her fingertips from touching the end of her strands.
"Ms. Blossom, how are you still so young? My mother said that you're older than Ms. Buttercup! Vitamin A is known for regulating skin cell, right? So, could the sphere's container contain a large quantity of vitamin A?
Blossom smiled in the girl's zealousness. Correct," she asserted while setting her cup on the dinner table. "It's an interesting hypothesis you've come to," Blossom pondered, before purposely placing her thoughts, "do you think the temperature could've affected it as well?
"Let children's imagination free, and they'll begin to create."
Daisy nodded, she vigorously jolted the notes on her pad. "True, from my research studies, there's nothing on Earth that's able to stop the aging process this efficiently. It's possible that the substance had frozen your body so you'd stay fifteen-years-old. Like in one of my mother's stories, the caveman was frozen in ice for centuries, but he still survived! Maybe, the substance was cold enough that your body stopped the external functions, but not the internal! That's so-"
However, before Daisy could finish her sentence, Blossom quickly grabbed the girl's wrist to pull Daisy toward her side.
Someone is home, and it isn't Ms. Keane.
"Ms. Blossom," Daisy started, sensing the sudden uneasiness in the atmosphere, "what's-"
"Daisy, you must be quiet," Blossom hushed, "stay behind me."
Slowly nodding her head at the request, Daisy hid underneath Blossom's shadow. She tightly grasped the eldest's sweater with her small clammy hands, burying her face in Blossom's warmth.
With her fingers wrapped around the peanut-butter covered knife and a napkin, Blossom led the frightened girl into the kitchen; She gently pushed Daisy into the space behind the fridge. "Don't make any sounds," Blossom breathed, handing the knife to Daisy," keep a strong grip on the knife. Press the napkin tightly against your nose and lips. Close your eyes. Don't open them and don't let go. "
"Ms. Blossom, what's going on," Daisy wallowed in fright, "who's coming?"
"I don't know," Blossom solemnly admitted, her eyes softened, "but you will be fine."
Blossom hushed the child to keep silent as she dashed to hide behind the kitchen's cabinets.
If it isn't their target, they won't pay any attention to it. Daisy will be safe as long as she's hidden.
Blossom prepared herself to launch at the attacker, readying herself for a surprise attack.
They've been slacking, usually; they're skilled as a Blood Hound. Berserk isn't training them hard enough.
Unraveling the guards secured on her wrist, a trail of blood streamed against her arm. The stench of bitterness toxic filled her senses.
I was reunited with Ms. Keane, met her daughter, and learned about the world outside the Palace gates. Also, I got a free haircut too!
With deep breaths, Blossom opened her eyes to a world of red.
All in all, today was the best day I've had in years.
The door slammed open and Blossom charged into the storm.
"Leader girl, you've got some hell of explaining to do!"
Enraging, electrifying green.
Inspired by Water Fairy a.k.a Mizu. I loved her dystopian concept and my favorite character is Blossom.
To Charlotte and Cookies, DaringDinkyDo, and Ruby Killer, I'd like to send my appreciations for following this story! Thank you!
The RowdyRuff Boys will come into the fanfiction later on in the story. If anyone has ideas for pairings, I'd love to hear them because I'm kind of stump.
Reviews are well-loved here! Thank you!
