Hey guys! So here's a short intro for my story. I find it really really difficult to start one because honestly, I have no idea where to start, or how I'm supposed to start! So I just wrote. This is all I got so far. I'd very much appreciate how the story sounds on your comments~ Happy reading! :)
There is a sprouting danger in dreaming too big.
As a young child, I had hoped to become a well-known herbalist, like the lady living at the edge of town. She had braided thick hair where flowers would burst between tangles, a different type every twelfth day. On unusual occasions, a ring of flower would wound up atop her head by itself as if their roots grew from her scalp. And that's when you should never bother her. It vexed her. Some had claimed it was a cursed gift from the Dryads. Others preferred to believe it was an ailment to worsen her every state of being. A few would whisper new theories of how it spurted out. With the building up of senseless assumptions, no one had come to know the origin of it. She was the town's mystery object. The attraction that brought royalties and high courts to the least charming city. She once had a desire of becoming the only girl to create herbs of magic. And it had become true, all thanks to the wishes. Only that she could never control it. Well, not anymore.
Since then, the profession concerning herbal medicine was banned all throughout the towns, countries, and cities. Word spread of the so-called cursed lady to the world like the seeds of a dandelion dispersed in the wind. Anyone who dared learn the art of herbal medicine was put to imprisonment or worse, death. It was such a peculiar rule! Why, herbal medicine heals, and yet it was banned. Why?
No matter.
It hadn’t stopped me from pursuing my profession ever since my childhood. Often, I would venture out to the edges of the forest closest to the town I lived in. I would go there on a summer dress sewn by my mother and always I carried with me was a basket covered by linen where three empty transparent glass jars were hidden from sight. I would directly hide behind the first line of bushes, as to not attract attention from the other villagers. Why, a little girl on her own in the woods is not a common thing. Hidden from view, I would place the three glass jars on the soft patches of grass and surround them with stones as to not tip them over. Picking out three different plant species I thought were different from each other, I would tuck each on the separate jars which were to be carried back home, where these new collections were to be displayed in my own shelves hidden from everyone. Unfortunately, time came my father found out this tiny secret, all thanks to my four stepsisters who indulged in messing my belongings every time they visited for feasts, because of the simple fact that I’d overslept and had not rearranged the belongings in my bedroom. All the hard work of gathering those plants were gone in a blink of an eye when my father became enraged and had shattered all the glass jars and burned all that contained them.
There is a sprouting danger in dreaming too big.
As a young child, I had hoped to become a well-known herbalist, like the lady living at the edge of town. She had braided thick hair where flowers would burst between tangles, a different type every twelfth day. On unusual occasions, a ring of flower would wound up atop her head by itself as if their roots grew from her scalp. And that's when you should never bother her. It vexed her. Some had claimed it was a cursed gift from the Dryads. Others preferred to believe it was an ailment to worsen her every state of being. A few would whisper new theories of how it spurted out. With the building up of senseless assumptions, no one had come to know the origin of it. She was the town's mystery object. The attraction that brought royalties and high courts to the least charming city. She once had a desire of becoming the only girl to create herbs of magic. And it had become true, all thanks to the wishes. Only that she could never control it. Well, not anymore.
Since then, the profession concerning herbal medicine was banned all throughout the towns, countries, and cities. Word spread of the so-called cursed lady to the world like the seeds of a dandelion dispersed in the wind. Anyone who dared learn the art of herbal medicine was put to imprisonment or worse, death. It was such a peculiar rule! Why, herbal medicine heals, and yet it was banned. Why?
No matter.
It hadn’t stopped me from pursuing my profession ever since my childhood. Often, I would venture out to the edges of the forest closest to the town I lived in. I would go there on a summer dress sewn by my mother and always I carried with me was a basket covered by linen where three empty transparent glass jars were hidden from sight. I would directly hide behind the first line of bushes, as to not attract attention from the other villagers. Why, a little girl on her own in the woods is not a common thing. Hidden from view, I would place the three glass jars on the soft patches of grass and surround them with stones as to not tip them over. Picking out three different plant species I thought were different from each other, I would tuck each on the separate jars which were to be carried back home, where these new collections were to be displayed in my own shelves hidden from everyone. Unfortunately, time came my father found out this tiny secret, all thanks to my four stepsisters who indulged in messing my belongings every time they visited for feasts, because of the simple fact that I’d overslept and had not rearranged the belongings in my bedroom. All the hard work of gathering those plants were gone in a blink of an eye when my father became enraged and had shattered all the glass jars and burned all that contained them.