Another death?

The following story contains material that may be unsuitable for young eyes and sensitive hearts.

The following story takes place in a land of mystical danger. Where even the most twisted creatures fear to tread.

The following story is very real. All events have indeed taken place.

If you're too brave for your own good, read on. If not, hit your back button before it's too late.

You've been warned.

...

My apartment is a place of death. That's right. A death has recently taken place in my apartment.

I came home yesterday night and found a body on my floor. The body was twisted, rigid and deformed. It was maimed, misssing parts and scattered. It was frightening and horrid and ubelievable.

The body belonged to my houseplant. While I was out of town for the weekend, my houseplant took its own life.

Seriously. My houseplant decapitated itself.

This is no laughing matter. It chose a violent, chlorophylly* death over existing under a single roof with me.

There it was. Well, there half of it was. Lying on the floor in a dirty heap. Broken leaves (still so green), severed stem (which previously had shown NO signs of weakness), and the hopeless air of suicide. I never saw this coming.

Why did plant off itself? WHY! Is it because I killed the bamboo**? Cause that was a total accident. That bamboo had to be defective. I mean, really! Bamboo is impossible to kill.

But this plant, this mighty Yucca fell on its own sword sometime between Saturday morning and Sunday afternoon. And it left itself right where I'd find it. Right in the path to my bed.

I just stood there over plant in disbelief. This was my fault. I managed to not only kill this plant, but make it kill itself.

I waited for the sirens and the plant paremedics to come crashing into my apartment. The plant CSI team to draw a leafy chalk outline on my floor and take forensic photos. For a brutish daisy to slap me in cuffs and hall me off to some forrest prison where I'd find some new religion and vow to never eat ruffage again.

I'd face a jury of seaweed, tomatoes and cacti. They'd discover that in my past I've taken the lives of sprouts, a Chia Herb Garden (eaten by a cat, not entirely my fault), a vegetable garden, violets, the pre-mentioned bamboo, a daisy bush, a giant sunflower, countless bean plants ...

The live oak of a judge would proclaim me guilty and I'd be sentenced to death by lethal pollen injection or a hayfever firing squad.

When I came to my senses, I realized none of this would ever happen. Afterall, after being in a room with me for a few hours, the entire law-and-order-flora community would perish. I'm poisen to to anything with a cell wall.

If a tree falls in the forrest, bet that I'll be skipping out the other side with a watering can.

I shrugged my shoulders and picked up plant's lifeless body. I had an unexceptional funeral for it at the apartment dumpster.

Maybe the bean plant I have at work will live ...





*Plants don't have blood, you know.
**Yes, I managed to kill a bamboo. Somehow, in opposition of science and a bamboo's inability to oversaturate itself, I overwatered it. Mind you, bamboo is an aquatic plant.