So you have swept me back, I who could have walked with the live souls above the earth, I who could have slept among the live flowers at last; so for your arrogance and your ruthlessness I am swept back where dead lichens drip dead cinders upon moss of ash; so for your arrogance I am broken at last, I who had lived unconscious, who was almost forgot; if you had let me wait I had grown from listlessness into peace, if you had let me rest with the dead, I had forgot you and the past. The sun was covered in a dense layer of clouds and even the clouds looked like they weren't having a good time. It had been raining for weeks, and physically, it made her feel like she was wilting. Gennette, a 17 year old teenager, was sitting inside next to the windowsill. She lived in a small house near the edge of town, right near the train tracks and right near the woods. She loved that little house, and her family knew it. Gennette sat up, stretched, and checked her wall clock. It was time for her schooling. She was home schooled, for a problem that was all too apparent. She didn't have friends, and she didn't have a boyfriend. She just had herself and her flowers. Gen walked down the steps, being mindful of the vines growing on the walls. She tried not to show emotion-- they responded that way. It was hard, not being able to control it. She hid herself like a champion, and did so every day. Today, she was wearing a thick cowl around her neck, covering the small buds that hid under her skin. A hat under her short-cut hair, a heavy cardigan under a long, flower like dress-top and a pair of black tight-pants under that. Anything to hide the effects of herself. She walked into the kitchen, and placed some hot water in the kettle, placing it on the stove. She collected some herbal tea, and walked into the living room where her mother was at. She was on the couch, sitting with her father. They were holding hands, looking from eachother to her and back again. That wasn't a good sign. Gennette looked from her tea, and to them. She sighed, and sat down, placing her tea on the coffee table. "Mom, dad!" She started, like the teenager she was. "Please PLEASE tell me you didn't." She started, looking at them both. They were silent. "You didn't, did you?" No words. They both looked down. "You did. Of course you did, " She rubbed her eyes. "I'm fine, I'm fine. I don't need to see another doctor!" " I know dear, I know... " Her mother started. " We're just... worried, is all. " " I can handle it, mother, " Gennette sighed. " It's fine, I'm fine-- " " Honey, " Her father chimed in. " We called someone who might be able to help you. She's a paranormal investigator. She might know if there are others like this-- with this!! You're probably not alone. " " Dad, PLEASE tell me you didn't-- " " She'll be here soon, too. It's a good thing you're dressed! " " DAD, you DIDN'T-- " " Oh, Gennette, " Her mother started. " She's very nice. You'll like her! " " Mom, please tell me that you-- " She was about to continue her one-sided protest, but the doorbell rang, and she could feel her seeds of anxiety sprout dangerously.