Gray Hearts Episode Six: Blossom

Gray Hearts by Raspberry | Content Warnings

I figure my best bet is to leave at night, when Prin is sleeping. I’m not sure if I can find the path she was talking about, or if there are any dangerous creatures that prey on humans under the moon, or if I’m going to end up falling into a ditch somewhere because it’s too dark to see. Knowing my luck, any of those are possible. But all of those are probably better than trying to escape Prin.

I stay up, pacing near my bed. I know if I sit down, I’ll end up falling asleep, which is either a sign of magic or just the power of a really comfortable mattress. I can hear Prin cleaning the kitchen, running dishes under the water and scrubbing dishes with a tsch, tsch scraping sound. A few minutes later, I hear the broom brush against the floor methodically. Prin is outside my door, and I take a step closer to the bed, ready to jump in and pretend to be sleeping if she decides to poke her head in. But then she’s gone ahead, and I can’t hear anything.

I take a cautious step away from the bed. And then another. I press my ear against the wooden door and listen closely. There’s silence on the other side, except for the occasional crackle from the fire. I kneel down and try to peer into the gap under the floor. There’s a small crack that only shows about a half inch, but I don’t see any feet shuffle by. If there’s ever a chance to escape, I think this is it.

I double check that I’m still holding my notebook with all my memories of Quinn. I have a feeling I’ll need it so I won’t forget her again. With a deep breath, I step into the main room. It’s empty, and I almost sigh in relief. I slip towards the front door and reach for the latch at the top.

“It’s quite rude to leave like this,” Prin’s voice pierces through the silence. “Don’t you think?”

I freeze and turn around slowly. Prin is in the rocking chair near the fire, a half-knitted jumper in her lap. I know for a fact she wasn’t sitting there just a few moments ago, but that’s probably the least of my concerns.

“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” I begin, moving my hands to my sides. “But I need to find Quinn.”

Prin lets out a deep sigh and stands up, the forgotten jumper slipping to the floor. I feel my heart pound as she takes a slow step towards me, and I scoot away about half an inch. A hurt look flashes across her face.

“I would never hurt you, dear,” she says with furrowed brows. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“What happened to the others?” I counter.

“I told you,” she says, folding her hands together in front of her. “They found their peace.”

“Were they able to leave?” I ask. “To go home?”

“There was nothing for them at home anyway,” she replies. “They found their peace here, and here is where they stay.”

“But I don’t want to stay here.” A small voice in the back of my head wonders if these will be my last words. “I want to find my friend and go home.”

Prin just shakes her head, like I’m a babbling child, and gives a small smile.

“There’s nothing for you there,” she says. “Your friend is already gone. What do you have waiting for you?”

She reaches out, and I feel my vision go fuzzy.

I can see Quinn, sitting in front of a warm fire. She’s wearing a light blue dress that just seems to highlight her pale face, and there’s a fur blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The woman from the mirror stands over her, studying her face intently, but it’s hard to tell if Quinn even sees anyone.

“Your name, darling?” the woman asks, studying Quinn intently.

“I… I don’t remember,” Quinn mutters slowly, focusing her gaze around the room. “I think…”

She trails off, and the woman gives her a smile. It doesn’t reach her black eyes, which focus on Quinn’s face with a hungry gaze. I want to call out to Quinn, to tell her I’m coming—

I blink, and Prin is in front of me, cupping my cheek in her hand as she studies my face calmly.

“You have so much sadness inside you,” she murmurs. “Why don’t you let it go? Let go of the cold, lonely past and move on from it.”

I stumble back, shaking my head slowly. Her tone is soothing, and I can feel it pierce me like a lullaby. I clutch the notebook tightly in my hands.

“Imagine if the trees and flowers were as stubborn as you,” she continues with a shake of her head. “Refusing the warm sun and trying to hide in the cold forever. I can help you move on… to bloom.”

“How are the others blooming?” I ask, gesturing towards the room with dolls that will never move again. “What you’ve done to them isn’t growth.”

“They grew as much as they could,” Prin replies, her smile twitching. “Once a flower is bloomed to perfection, the only thing left is to clip it.” She nods towards the vases on the table, filled with freshly picked flowers. “I thought you knew that by now.”

“So that’s what you did to the others? Clipped them?”

“Preserved them,” Prin corrects me with a smile that no longer reaches her eyes.

“Just so they wouldn’t leave you?” I feel my heart thudding and echoing in my ears.

“I thought you of all people would understand, Iris. Isn’t that why you’re here? To take your friend and hold onto her forever?”

“No.” My voice comes out in a squeak, and I clear my throat and say it louder. “No. Quinn is my best friend. I don’t— I can’t…” I take a deep breath. “I have no future without her. There’s no spring for me if she’s stuck in winter.”

“No spring for you without her,” Prin repeats with a thoughtful look on her face.

I hear those words echo in my brain. And realize what I’m saying. I’m here to find Quinn, but is it to save her or because I can’t be without her? Is she my porcelain doll?

“Stay here,” Prin continues. “Stay with me. There will be no loneliness, no abandonment here. Only love.”

“And Quinn?”

I can already feel my resolve weakening.

“Winter already has a hold on her,” Prin replies. “Your friend is as good as gone. Don’t you know about my sister? She will freeze your friend’s heart slowly.Then, she’ll eat the frozen heart to absorb her life force and leave her remains as decoration, frozen in eternal emptiness.”

A chill runs down my spine, and I shake my head.

“You don’t know Quinn,” I say. “She’s the most warm-hearted person I know. She… she’s strong enough to resist Winter until I come for her.”

“She can’t even recall her own name.”

“So what?” I retort, feeling my cheeks grow warm. “She doesn’t need to know her name to keep her heart… unfrozen.” It feels weak, but I don’t care as I continue. “She’s still Quinn to me, the friend who always helps others, who just wanted to do something for herself for once.”

She just wanted to do something for herself for once. She wanted to see the world and experience freedom in a way she never got to in our hometown. And like a selfish child, I made it about myself instead of supporting her. Guilt claws at my chest like it’s trying to dig for my heart.

“She’s been through hell already, and she can survive it. She can survive this,” I continue softly.

“But you can’t.”

I give Prin a defiant look, and a small voice in the back of my head reminds me that Prin would definitely be able to take me in a fight. Probably a good indication that she’s right about my likelihood of survival.

“I don’t know if I can,” I hear myself say slowly. “But I owe it to her to try. Because that’s what friends do: they show up for each other.”

And it’s about time I started doing that for her.

Prin leans against the table and lets out a deep sigh, but I can’t tell if she’s giving up or about to turn me into a doll.

“Every time I think I made a friend,” she says in a wistful tone. “We always start happy, and it’s always a time of joy. But… I suppose like flowers, they only last so long before wilting away.” She gives a wry smile. “I suppose I’m to be abandoned either way.”

There’s something about the look on her face that feels too familiar. The self-pity etched in every line of her frown feels like looking in a mirror.

“I know the feeling,” I say slowly, and a sigh escapes me. “And I know it feels like being abandoned. But… friends don’t abandon each other.”

“So you’re not my friend then?”

“I am your friend,” I reply quickly. I don’t know if I’d count this as friendship, but I’m not about to say that aloud. “But friends can be friends even when we go separate ways.”

I know how hypocritical this sounds, and it feels like I’m reminding myself as much as her. I wonder if Quinn told me this when she was getting ready for her trip, but I can’t remember. Maybe I wasn’t even listening to her by then.

“Our paths are separating now, but this doesn’t mean they won’t cross again,” I continue. “And it doesn’t mean that you won’t be my friend anymore.”

The set in Prin’s face seems to waver as she considers my words.

“This isn’t a goodbye,” I say, remembering Quinn’s words to me. “Because friends don’t ever have to say goodbye. It’s a ‘see you soon.’ I have to go, but that doesn’t mean I’m leaving you. You can keep me in your heart, but you can’t force a friend to stay against their will… right? Part of friendship is supporting the other person… even if it means making a sacrifice for them.”

Like letting them have the adventure they always wanted, even if that means going down a different path for a while. Because friendship means trusting those paths will intertwine again. I open my mouth, but these words seem stuck, like they’re meant to stay in my brain and not be shared.

Prin sighs and takes a step closer to me. The thought that she can easily overpower me and keep me here forever resurfaces in my mind. But she places a hand on my cheek and looks at me with watery eyes.

“Your friend is lucky to have you,” she says, and her voice is wavering. “Come, I’ll show you the path towards Summer.”

The door opens behind me, and I step aside so Prin can walk out first. She leads me away from the meadow and towards the forest. The sun is beginning to rise, sending soft pink lights across the saplings at the edge of the forest. I see a small dirt road weaving to the center.

“Follow this path,” she says, pointing with a sigh. “You’ll find my sister Summer at the end of it.” She hesitates. “I wish you all the luck, my friend. You’ll need it.”

She pulls me into a quick hug before lightly pushing me away. I stumble down the path and only glance back once I’ve reached the edge of the forest. Prin raises a single hand in farewell, the rising sun sending bright rays of light around her and her house. I blink, and she’s gone.

I turn towards the forest again. The branches brush against each other in the breeze, and I can hear birds chirping in the distance.

“I’m coming, Quinn,” I whisper.

I take a deep breath and enter the forest.