The Seeds

She never knew quite what to make of those little seeds that were created with a whirling in her tummy or a pounding in her chest. When she tried to explain it to others, they told her they were called feelings and said everyone had them. But she knew this wasn’t true. She never saw others with seeds bursting out of their pockets, appearing seemingly from nowhere right after an uncomfortable sensation began creeping through her body. 

Sometimes, her heart would pound while her hands shook. And within a few minutes, a seed would appear. She would quickly hide it in her pocket, afraid of what others would think if they saw. Other times, she would have a fluttering in her tummy and suddenly, a seed would pop out of her belly button. Each day brought with it different sensations, some pleasant, some unpleasant. And each of these sensations produced a new seed. 

She learned to wear baggy clothes with big pockets because teachers used to yell at her for having seeds in her pocket, telling her to leave them at home next time. She learned that her seeds were not welcome in school, so she learned not to draw attention to herself for fear of someone noticing her seeds. She tried to tell her mom once, but she just told her to stop making stories up and go to her room. This caused her tummy to twirl around and produce the largest seed she’d seen yet. 

So now, when she arrived home, she ran through the house to her back door before anyone could talk to her. She ran and ran until she came to a thick part in the forest. There, she would carefully crawl through the trees into the small dirt field she’d discovered while exploring one day. Once there, she would sit and catch her breath, trying not to allow her mind to focus much on the seeds she’d created today. She knew that would just create more seeds and more work for her. 

Once she was calm, she would very carefully dig up the hole and bury those seeds, one by one. She knew when each one was made by the way they felt in her hands. She was always careful not to spend too much time tending to them, lest they begin to sprout in her hands. She learned that lesson the hard way. 

One day, a friend sat with her and asked her about her feelings. She knew this friend didn’t know about her seeds and just intended to ask about those sensations she felt. Usually, she was quick to steer conversations back to her friends’ feelings. But something about the questions both caught her off guard and made her feel safe. For the first time someone seemed genuinely curious about her, so stories about various sensations she felt spilled out of her, though she was still careful not to mention the seeds. As she continued to share, her body began to feel warm and produced a seed that she quickly snuck into her pocket as she continued to talk. It felt nice to have someone to listen and care, but she wasn’t about the tell anyone about the seeds. 

When she got home later that day, she sat in the field and held the seed in her hand, fondly remembering the warm sensation her body had felt earlier that day. As she held it in her hand, the seed began to sprout, entangling her hands in a green vine as it did. She stood up alarmed and shook her hands until the seed fell to the ground. Once her hands were free, she quickly dug that hole, deeper than she had ever dug before and placed it there. She covered it with dirt before placing the other seeds from the day on top. Finally, she covered it all with dirt. 

That was years ago, and since then, she was always careful not to let herself linger too long with any of the seeds. She knew needed to bury them quickly, lest she become tangled by them. Today was no exception. She methodically began to dig the hole. As she reached the pile of withering seeds though, she was compelled to dig deeper, as though driven by a force her mind could not comprehend. When she did, she was surprised to spot a bit of green coming from that seed she’d buried long ago. Before she could stop herself, she found herself touching that green spot, curious to know how it felt. As she felt that cold, damp green vine, that warm sensation she felt that day returned. But suddenly, her mind came back to focus. She quickly placed some dirt over the vine, placed the old and new seeds on top of it, and then buried it all. She ran quickly back home, wanting to forget how she had let her mind lose control. 

She slept restlessly that night, images of green vines strangling her, of a fog engulfing, of frantically searching for something in the woods, of pockets overflowing with seeds haunting her dreams. She awoke multiple times that night in a cold sweat, remembering bits and pieces of something she couldn’t quite grasp but desperately yearned to find. The next day, she woke up and made her way to school in a zombie like state. When she returned home and headed to the field, she could barely remember the events of the day. Her mind was so tired that her body barely produced any seeds to bury. But as she entered the field that day, she was distressed by what she saw. Instead of an open dirt field, what she saw left her awestruck.

In front of her lay the most beautiful field she had ever seen. Flowers of all shades of purples, blues, pinks and yellows surrounded her. “How could something so beautiful come from those ugly seeds?” she wondered aloud.

Before she knew what she was doing, her feet carried her to the center of the field. And there surrounded by wildflowers, she found herself dancing. At least, that was what she thought she was doing. She never before was able to feel free enough to let her body sway with music. And now, she couldn’t stop it from swaying to a song that played only in her mind.

She twirled about, smiling to herself. She looked up at the sky and down at the flowers. She felt like she was seeing the world for the first time. Everything was so vibrant, so very beautiful. It was as though those seeds she had hidden and buried long ago bloomed in her eyes, allowing her see the world more fully.

As the sun began to set, she sat in solitude watching the beautiful colors. She had done this many times before. But as she sat her this night, she felt like something was missing. Her mind wandered back to the incident that caused the first flowers to sprout. She remembered sitting with her friend and talking for hours about her seeds – her feelings. And before she could stop herself, she hopped to her feet and began sprinting to town in search of a friend to share the beauty with.

To be continued again…