There were flowers already blooming in front of the apartment complex when she signed the lease. It felt like a fresh start.
But by the end of moving day, dread had settled in. The apartment felt lifeless, every wall and corner washed in shades of gray and brown. This was supposed to be her chance to begin again. She told herself it was just her anxiety, something she had carried most of her adult life.
Maybe I just need to make this place my own, she thought. She remembered the flowers outside and cut marigolds and zinnias to bring inside. Their colors lit up the room. For a moment, she smiled.
But later, lying on the couch, she scrolled through Instagram. Breaking news. Another headline. More breaking news. Again and again until she fell asleep with the phone in her hand.
At 2 a.m. she woke, mind racing. She turned to look at the flowers. Their petals had curled inward, drained of all color, as if something in the apartment had fed on them while she slept.