The Garden - Volume III

It was a hobby to pass the time - a small vegetable garden tucked behind the garage I could tend on weekends. As a beginner, I was thrilled when the first seedlings poked up through the soil. But nothing prepared me for the bizarre plants soon towering over the yard.

The tomato vines grew exponentially each day, coiling wildly outward along the ground before climbing the garage and house walls. Bright orange gourds swelled to the size of boulders, cracking sidewalks with their impossible mass.

My unnatural green thumb should have alarmed me. But I was too enchanted by the floral behemoths looming above the roofline, blotting out the sun. I happily spent days nurturing my monstrous arboretum, oblivious to the outside world.

Until late one afternoon when I faintly registered urgent knocking at the front door. I tore myself away from the plants long enough to find a police officer on my porch. "Thank god you're alright! We've gotten calls - the neighborhoods in an uproar," he said.

Pushing past him, I was shocked to see women and children gathered fearfully down the street staring towards my house. Only now did I comprehend how the runaway garden had swallowed my home whole. The officer eyed the bent utility poles and cracked foundation uneasily.

"I know you're attached to your...unusual garden. But the destruction is becoming dangerous. You need to cut it back immediately," he ordered sternly. I nodded numbly, feeling the plants' fury at his words.

After he finally left, I grabbed the pruning shears and approached the snarling vegetation. But strangely, I could not bear to actually cut into the abundant foliage. It was as if invisible bonds held me back. I dropped the shears and fled inside, shaken by the plants' power over me.

That night I had vivid dreams of wandering through a landscape of massive pulsating pods and vines that seemed alive and watching. I heard urgent whispers warning me to resist their control. Inside the house was still sanctuary. But the vines continued creeping, seeking cracks to invade.

Morning sunlight offered some comfort and clarity. I knew I had to regain command of the backyard jungle before it swallowed everything. This time I would not falter. Gripping the shears tightly, I set to work cutting back the first invaders at the door.

But at the first cut, pain seared through my body and sap-like blood trickled down my arm. The vines recoiled, their shrieking shaking the walls. A terrible realization settled upon me - through some dark enchantment, our lives were bonded. Hurting them meant hurting myself.

I stumbled back in shock even as new tendrils emerged seeking advantage. There could be no fighting this. My neglected garden had claimed me, body, and soul. All I could do was accept my choice...and slowly step outside into its lethal embrace.

In the end they found me lying peacefully beneath the massive fruiting body of the tomato plant, pale sap mingling with blood. I had taken the only path left to me to atone for my blindness - becoming one with the garden that lived and breathed as part of me.

Sometimes terrible beauty can flourish if left unchecked. But there is a line not meant to be crossed. For once you open the gate and invite forces in... they may never leave. Not until they have taken everything.

"The Garden" by Oscar Mendieta Bravo