Who: Gwyneth What: Finding out that the magic flower has vanished-and the panic attack that follows. When: Backdated to two months ago Where: The woods in the back of Gwyneth's house in Vancouver, Washington. Warnings: Uh, near nervous breakdown? A little morbidity?
It had been well over four centuries since Gwyneth had started using the magic of the golden flower to restore her youth. The flower was her own personal fountain of youth, and she had come to rely on it just as much as Gothel had in her own time. Old age was detestable and death, well, death was out of the question. The very thought of dying and being buried in the ground sent shivers down her spine. She was determined that it would never come to that-and as long as she had the flower in her possession, it never would.
Pulling her coat tighter around her to protect against the chill of the November wind, Gwyneth threaded her way through the woods behind her home. She had caught sight of a few gray strands starting to overtake her golden hair and, as always, went running straight for the flower. She had hidden it well upon moving to Washington, planting it in the middle of a little thicket where it was shielded from view by a chest-high wall of brush. Gothel occasionally fretted about leaving it outside, protesting that their secret would be safer in the house, but Gwyneth argued that if they were to keep the flower healthy, it needed to be in the natural environment. Besides, hardly anyone besides herself ever went back there; she had made sure of that, spreading rumors about vicious wild animals roaming the area. It was perfectly safe.
A small smile tugged at the corners of Gwyneth's mouth as she neared the thicket, the lyrics of the song that activated the magic already hovering on her lips. But no sooner had she parted the brush, stepping through the wall, the smile and the song died. The flower was nowhere in sight. No, she heard Gothel cry in the back of her mind, and found herself echoing it as panic started to seize her. "No. No!"
Desperation flooding her senses, she started to tear through the surrounding bushes, nervously searching every inch for the missing golden flower. Where is it? Gothel was all but shrieking in her head, forcing her head to pound in symmetry with her heart. "I don't know!" Gwyneth cried, too panicked to stop herself from speaking aloud as her eyes darted around anxiously, to no avail. "How could anyone have found it? How?" I told you we should've kept it inside, you fool! Gothel shot back, her voice rising to be heard over the ringing that was going on in Gwyneth's head. Now we're going to die! Die! After all these years!
"No," was all Gwyneth could cry again as she dropped to her knees. "No, we won't. We can't!" Breathing heavily, she began to dig through the cold, hard ground with her nails, as if hoping that, somehow, the flower had simply been buried. As she dug deeper and deeper, only to find more soil, the realization that she might as well be digging her own grave slowly set in. A dazed look flickered across her face, which was now ashen, as she slowly withdrew her hands, staring numbly into space. You fool! She heard once more in her head before crumbling to the ground in a near catatonic heap.