She looks around, puzzled. Mother brought her here a few days ago. Then there were flowers. There are flowers now. Why is it different? She pauses for a moment. She wishes Mother would come and find her. She really shouldn't have wandered off like that. Suddenly it strikes her. There aren't any leaves! Who would do such a horrible thing, plucking off the leaves and taking away life from them? Those delicate flowers probably wouldn't last to see another sunset. A tear trickles down her face, and another follows. She scurries to pick the ones that still have leaves. They'll have to live in a vase, but at least will still get a chance to survive another few days. Suddenly a thought comes to mind. For a second she askes herself, what if the one who did that is still here?
I think my Last Day
would be getting lost and not being found. That scares me, and scaring yourself to death is a distinct possibilty. Death by the hand of an un-imaginary evil creature is also another interpretation. But this is the scene I think would show my Last Day
. Flowers present to add fragileness to the picture. Plus, I've just realised no one else has flowers in their picture ^.^
This could not be acomplished without some lovely brushes!
Here they are!
Flower print (skirt):[link]