Flowering III

"Gemma, they're doing it again."

Gemma turned on her heel to face the troupe of deer that had been following about ten feet behind them.  "GO.  A-WAY!" The lead buck seemed to stare at her in indignation for a moment and then turned into the direction of the neighborhood park, followed by three does and two white-spotted fawns.  "You too," she snapped at the two grey rabbits nibbling at grass that had sprouted from a crack in the sidewalk.  They just kept on eating.  "I'm sorry Rhea," she sighed.  "I really don't know what's going on."

"That's obvious," Rhea quipped.  "I'm guessing your plant arms haven't gotten any better either?"

"I figured the long sleeves in the middle of August made it obvious?"  Despite Amy's daily reassurances that it was likely just a weirdly rare medical side effect from some antibiotics she had been taking, Gemma's arm sprouts had continued to grow.  Each of her wrists was now encircled with a purple flowering vine and the original sprouts from her inner elbows were continuing to spiral up her upper arm, gaining a few centimeters every day.

"Did you really try cutting it off?"

"I told you, I did!  It just hurt like a bitch, but the vine wouldn't even give."

"It's just so insane."  Rhea shook her head slowly, "And now the animals."

"Trust me, I'm aware," Gemma groaned.  "They started showing up two days ago.  Wednesday morning I opened my eyes and the buck was just staring into my bedroom window.  And now the rabbits try to get in whenever I open the front door."

"Did you try carrots?"

Gemma smirked in spite of herself.  "What is this, Looney Tunes?"

Rhea grinned back.  "Some version of it."  They walked a little further, not noticing the ever-thickening flock of birds on the telephone wires overhead.  "What are you going to do?"

"God I have no idea."

"I think it's time to go see---"

"No way."

"Gem."  Rhea grabbed her hand, tugging her sweatshirt sleeve up just enough for the flower petals to show.  "This. is. not. normal.  Or even ... human.  We need to go see your aunt."  Her sky blue eyes bore into Gemma's deep brown ones.

Gemma sighed deeply.  "Fine.  We'll go see Aunt Nix."

Flowering II

She dropped her backpack on the sidewalk as the bus pulled away and shoved her sleeve up.  What the fu- A small green lump was pushing up from under her skin.
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Early the next morning, she sat up from her sleep deprived daze with a start -- her skin pinched for a moment and then the itching finally stopped.  Thank God.  She apprehensively rolled her sleeve up.  A pale green coil emerged from where the lump had been.  The skin around it was red and sensitive but the bud itself was almost ticklish to the touch.  If she watched it closely enough, it seemed to grow before her eyes, warming in the dawn light coming through her half-drawn curtains.

That's it.  I'm literally crazy.  Or dreaming.  Or crazy and dreaming.  

But it was there when she opened her eyes again.  And when she woke up from a few hours of fitful sleep.  And when she Skyped her Biologist Sister five minutes after that.

"But, Amy, you really see it?"

"Well, yes, I do."  Amy shoved her black, thick-rimmed glasses back up the bridge of her nose.  "I haven't the slightest idea how it's even possible.  But it's certainly there."

"Ugh."

"It doesn't hurt any more?"

"No not really."  She rubbed her forearm.  "I can feel it under my skin still, though."

"Maybe it's a root system in your arm.  How fascinating."

"Yeah that's the word I was going for."

"Hey, you called me, remember?"  Amy leaned into her screen, her wild red curls falling into her face.  "I wish I could see it better!  And you haven't noticed any more?"

"Not yet.  Oh God do you think there could be more?"

"Well, I wouldn't rule out the possibility.  Especially if it's rooting in your veins."

"Fan. Tastic."  She rubbed an itch on her wrist.

"Just -- be careful, I guess?  And go and see someone if it hurts more."

"Okay.  Thanks," she sighed.  Jeeze I'm thirsty.

"Sure thing.  Love you, sis."

"Love you too."

Flowering

It started as an itch in the crease of her right elbow.  She noticed it one morning on the bus.  One casual scratch then back to her book.  But it wouldn't go away.  She adjusted her sleeve, trying to feel up the seam to see if there was something there.  Nothing. By now she was starting to get looks of mild annoyance from the middle-aged business woman next to her.  She sat in rigid silence, focusing her gaze on the words in front of her, her mind focused solely on the throbbing of her arm.

Three blocks.  Two blocks.  One.  She grabbed at the stop cord as casually as possible, inwardly frantic.  The feeling had only increased, spreading slowly through her arm, reaching her wrist and shoulder.  I'm only twenty-five - it couldn't be a heart attack, right?  The driver jerked to a stop and she leapt up while simultaneously tripping over the cranky business woman's feet.  "Sorry, so sorry!" she pleaded to the half-sneer, practically falling out of the doors in her effort to escape.

She dropped her backpack on the sidewalk as the bus pulled away and shoved her sleeve up.  What the fu-  A small green lump was pushing from under her skin.