
The water cascaded from Anna’s watering bucket onto the Midnight Belladonna’s purple petals. The silver moonlight gleamed off the flower's surface and fractured as it hit the glass that subsequently scattered across the garden path.
Men poured out of the broken sliding door and into the garden, but Anna was already running, clutching the Belladonna tightly to her chest.
Shouts and pounding footsteps followed close behind her, and branches tore through her exposed skin, but she did not slow; she would not let them catch her. All that mattered was protecting the deadly silken petals of the Midnight Belladonna.
About the Creator
Amanda Ciufecu
A crazy animal girl that has been writing since middle school. I create stories in my dreams and vent within my poetry; my words unable to be contained within my mind.

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