Room Of Flowers

She slowly walked through a room full of flowers, she knew something was strange about a room full of flowers, but the scent of them filled her senses and she no longer cared about something as strange as that. She slowly smelt each of the sweet perfumes, savoring the delicate flower’s petals. Knowing that with one harsh touch, they would be crushed, never again to return to the beauty they contained now. She slowly walked through the rest of the room noticing the feeling of silkiness on her bare feet as she walked over many different flower petals, not knowing how they got there; they looked so fresh. She reached over to grab a red rose, and smelt it, not even caring when she cut her finger on one of the many thorns the one rose held. She followed the flower petals to another room where she found a closed door, painted black. 

She reached out to open it, only to find that it opened before she felt its touch on her hand. Still clutching at her rose, she walked into the dimly lit room, not knowing why it was so dark, but seeing the countless candles floating around the room turned her on, so much that she had never known possible, but then again, she was still a virgin to the feel of a man’s hand, she had never known what it was like to feel a man run his fingers through her long beautiful hair, or savor the taste of the first kiss she had never experienced, the feel of coarse skin against her own smooth silk like skin, or to know what it was like to even hug a guy, to feel her nipples scratch a man’s skin. But she knew that she wanted to feel everyone of those treasures her friends had told her about, but since she was able to talk, she had been locked up in a religious school, not even knowing what a guy looked like, she had been kept as far away as possible from anything resembling a man, or a boy, she had been surrounded by nuns and covered from her neck to her ankles, not knowing what another girl looked like under her clothes, or knowing the feel of a kiss on her cheek, she had been kept from treasures of life, until she turned 16, and her friends had started leaving her, one by one, learning what each of those feelings were like, only to tell her of them, not to have someone give her an example of the touch, just using words to describe ever sensation they’d known of, up until the next moment they spoke. She had yearned to feel the touch of anyone besides her own hands, but whenever she’d been caught daydreaming, she’d be punished, knowing that she had so much more work than the amount she’d started out with in the beginning.

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She gazed around the room, noticing a smell she had never known before, but it was the smell of sweetness, something that had also been kept from her, like a flower hidden from the gaze of a watcher. She searched in vain trying to find where the smell came from, but she couldn’t, until she realized that it was all around her, on every side, but it was ever so strong when she was closer to a candle. She bent down around a candle, knowing she had smelt the same smell just moments ago, in the flower room, it was the smell of a flower, vanilla, she remembered seeing on a tag around the sweet flower. “Such a sweet perfume,” she said to herself, laughing at how silly she would seem to someone who had all of the luxuries she had been deprived of all her youth. “Is someone there?” came a deep voice from a corner, she immediately hushed herself, ashamed at how she was so afraid, for she had never heard a voice as deep as the one she heard just a few seconds ago. But she quietly sat down where she stood, not knowing if she should speak up, or wait for the person to come and find her on their own. She know that if she had done this to someone else she knew, she’d be slapped, and sent to bed without any of the meals for the remainder of the day. But she was away from all of that, and she didn’t have to listen to a nun, or hear to singing of children everywhere she went, being kept from everyone until she was shown the light of day, the moment she turned 18.