We are flowers...we grow, bloom, and are beautifully unique. We are everywhere and come in many shapes and sizes...

We are flowers who face the sweltering heat and the coldest of storms. We burn bright, we burst through the soil despite fear.

We are flowers and this is the story of one I met on fire.

We are flowers, that's what my mother always told me anyway. She said what makes us special lies in the color and smell of our petals and the beauty and passion from our appearance. My mom always used the words appearance and beauty but what she meant was the beauty on the inside, that's the one that matters.

If you hadn't guessed it already my mother loved flowers, she would make analogies about it all the time according to my dad. When they first met he told her one day when the king married them he would take her out of the kingdom to a house in the forest and they would build it up and create a field of flowers of all shapes and sizes. That's why we live in a farm unlike most people who dwell within the kingdom. Also my mother never liked the king very much, she called him and liar and cursed when she heard his name around the house or on the radio. But she always told me hatred wasn't the answer and if a conflict ever erupts to fill it with beauty.

"Alexander would you help me with the flowers?" My mother called.

"Coming mother." I called back.

If beauty solves conflict then were going to need a lot more flowers.

Helping my mom do chores around the garden never felt like work but that's what dad likes to call it. He isn't as passionate when it comes to flowers like my mom is but he respects their beauty. When I help my mom in the garden, taking care of the flowers and planting the seeds in the spring has always been our way of bonding. We both enjoyed the idea that we were creating life here, a bunch of unique flowers all different and beautiful. I loved the smell of flowers it as like a symphony that you couldn't hear but was brightly playing as it synced with nature.

I ran outside and into the backyard where my mother was bent over applying fertilizer to the lilies and dandelions. She looked up at me and smiled. "Mind filling up the water jug for me?"

"Sure!" I replied excitedly. I took the jug and ran to the spout in the kitchen. "Hey mom are we going back into town soon? I really want to buy some more roses." I said through the kitchen window.

"Maybe once your father gets paid." My mom calls back. Whenever she works on the plants she hums a song. She calls it "The sweet melody" she would tell me how she would sing it to me when I was little and it would help me grow. I chuckle at the thought and looked to the door hearing a sudden rustle in the trees.

I left the water running in my sudden curiosity. I quickly moved out the door and seen a small figure, long flocks of red hair moved back into the forest like a blur. A girl? Who was she?

You see no one else lives where we do. Not unless their hunters camping for food. Most if not everyone lives in the kingdom. Where the king promises a happy and amazing life. My parents though they never say it aloud hated the king, and even though my father still works for him that didn't mean we had to live under him. He build this house all by himself, the water he funneled by himself, and from scratch he made a home for his wife and children to roam. He build a home for my mother to bring to life with beautiful flowers that light any night.

"Alexander water please." My mother called.

I suddenly looked away from the forest trees and turned to see water trickling out of the front door. "Oh no...." I ran inside as fast as I could and little did I know the girl watched from the trees. Holding a flower, a rose? A lily? She took a sniff and held it tight watching a scene like if in a play. Watching flowers blossom in roses. And she wanted to be one too.