The Monster In The Garden

by hyreia

First published

Wallflower was tired of being pushed around. It was time to bury her problems.

We all have a breaking point. When the quiet wallflower finally reaches hers and there's no one there to help, she takes it into her own hands to 'pull out the weeds' and save the garden.

Cover image made by Grapefruitface https://derpibooru.org/images/1769189

The Monster And The Garden

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Once again Wallflower Blush found herself alone at the school garden. As the sole member of the Gardening Club she was, naturally, gardening. It was late, even after dark, but no one gave the weird green girl digging any thought. No one ever showed up or stopped her: she was alone to do her work. And that was a good thing too: today was a big day! The entire garden was being replanted.

“It’s all your fault, you know,” Wallflower Blush thought aloud. Wallflower Blush often talked to herself while she was gardening. She didn’t have any friends, no human ones anyway. So instead, when she needed someone to talk to, she found herself talking to herself, her gardening equipment, the soil, her thoughts, seeds, her flowers. Nature listened and if one paid attention it communicated back. “I didn’t want to have to do this,” she spoke again after a moment of listening for answers.

She often got dirty gardening, that was the nature of the hobby. The knees of her jeans were worn and stained permanently green. If it weren’t for her gloves she would probably have developed calluses. Today she was getting particularly dirty too. She found herself knee deep in her planting hole, shovel in hand. She was going to bring life back to this haven with her own sweat and hardwork.

She finally stopped digging and appreciated her hole. She had to dig up the entire garden several feet down. In the middle she dug a long trough that was a few feet deeper. It would be ridiculous under any other circumstances but the soil was bad now so it all had to go.

Two wheelbarrows with mounds of natural, homemade potting soil sat off to the side of her work area. Beside them was a wooden dolly bursting with flowers from her home garden: Orange lilies, gladiolus, a few roses, red and yellow carnations and chrysanthemums. The standout among her classic selection though were the blue orchids.

“I got the orchid’s color just right for you, you know. I used natural dyes in their water to make them turn the perfect shade of cyan,” she chipperly explained as she climbed out of her hole. “I wasn’t sure what your favorite color was, but I figured you were self-centered enough it’d probably be cyan.”

Her good mood was ruined once again when she looked off to the other side of her hole where the old soil was piled high. Thrown haphazardly around the dirt mound, and buried within it, were dying, wilted and decomposing flowers: Her past work. Her time. Her money. Her love and care. Her one silent accomplishment at this school. Her only friends at this school even. All ruined. A temporary burial mound. A pile of the dead and dying which she could not save, for the garden was poisoned.

“I couldn’t pin you for bleaching the garden. But there’s really no one else who would have done it,” she looked behind her. She found herself suddenly, inexplicably heaving for breath and something in the air agitated here eyes. “You even left me the bottles as a ‘fuck you’! Just so I would know it wasn’t an accident.”

She rubbed her eyes on the sleeve of her sweater. The action only got dust into her eyes and exasperated her burning tears. She picked up her watering can and took long, slow gulps from the top. After a bit she regained her composure.

“Thank you for helping replant though,” she said as she turned to give the body on the ground behind her a broken smile. “It doesn’t make up for what you’ve done... nothing can make up for what you’ve done to this school; to me… but it’s a start.”

She walked over beside the body. Ignoring her boots, jacket and her red and gold locks one would still recognize who it was for her face was remarkably well-preserved despite how many beatings with the shovel it took. That pretty fucking face still taunted her. She could almost make out a sneer left on that broken jaw despite the hatred having long being drained out of the one remaining eye.

“You’re a monster, Sunset Shimmer,” Wallflower spat at her old bully. Then, Wallflower’s lips twisted up into a smile in realization. “You were a monster, Sunset Shimmer. Now you’re fucking fertilizer.”

Wallflower got down onto her knees and hunched over the corpse. “I guess I won’t have any other time to tell you this before I bury you so I might as well say it...” she spoke in a private tone now.

“You made every single day at this school a living nightmare for everyone. You manipulated, you cheated, you humiliated and you bullied… but-” Wallflower choked up, “you didn’t ignore me. I knew I could count on you to find me and talk to me every single day. You usually wanted my lunch money or to call me names or make fun of my hair but you gave me attention no one else ever did.”

Wallflower shuttered and swallowed at her oncoming words. “I started to like it. It was harsh fertilizer but I was starving. I was thirsty for a relationship and I thought- fantasized!, maybe someday I could open up my garden to you… or...,” she fumbled with her words. “Or maybe, at least, you would sexually violate me. I wouldn’t have told anyone. You know I wouldn’t have. After all, I’m just a ‘wet bag of hay’, right?”

Wallflower moved her mouth to her defeated bully’s lips and kissed her. Her first kiss. It was physically colder than she would have liked; the body had already gotten cold.

“Okay, enough sappy shit,” the mossy girl admitted as she stood up. The coldness of the lips had brought her back to her senses. She grabbed Sunset by the boots and slowly, unceremoniously dragged her backwards until they were both in the hole. Then Wallflower climbed out and Sunset stayed.

“You know, I was going to bury you alive,” Wallflower remarked aloud. “Like break your limbs and stuff so you couldn’t escape? But I got carried away. Passion and all that.”

She looked down at the broken face then back over what was her dead garden. She was still angry but it wasn’t explosive anymore. It came as a steady, righteous anger. She walked over to the first wheelbarrow.

“You would have deserved it. But we don’t get what we deserve! Not that you would know what that feels like,” she said as she tipped the first wheelbarrow over. The avalanche of dirt was mostly for around the hole but plenty fell down onto Sunset. She could still make out the red and gold locks. She then grabbed two framed photographs leaning against a nearby tree and threw them into the hole on top of the body. The photos were both of Sunset crowned and wearing a dress. “Some friends for you; shame you won't be attending the Fall Formal.”

She walked over to the second wheelbarrow.

“Well Shimmer, it looks like your sun has set!” She said with practiced charisma and dumped the last wheelbarrow to fill the hole and bury her bully. “Maybe you’ll become something better in the next life; like fucking weeds!”

She set to angrily stomping down the soil in the hole and raking the rest around her new gardening area. Principal Celestia would be so impressed at the garden’s recovery. After all, there was no room in the budget to resoil and replant an entire garden after the ‘vandalism’.

“Sorry guys, I’m going to have to plant you tomorrow. My forgetful mom is going to start remembering she has a daughter,” she told her flowers. “Don’t worry, no rain tonight. And no one ever comes by here so you’ll be safe," she told her gardening equipment.

“As for you...,” she gave the middle of her garden a sour expression. “No one is ever going to look for you.” She put her gloves away in her backpack and pulled out something wrapped in cloth. She revealed a carved stone. “Because tomorrow morning, I’m going to make sure no one ever remembers you.”