I bend down and pick up a freshly bloomed rose, careful so the thornes don’t cut through my skin. I place it in my basket and contiune through the guarden.

Ever since being turned into a fae everything has felt off. I can hear the heartbeats of people, the oceans waves crashing against the shore. It was like I was trapped in my own body.

As I contiue around the garden, I can’t find the azaleas I want. I start to looking around, whispering to myself, “Where are the azaleas?”