[ WP ] Once the St. Lalaurie Flower blooms , it has the power to grant one wish . But for it to mature and bloom , the gardener must endure years of torment and anguish .

A single tear flows down my cheek from my eye. I wipe it angrily away. I almost wish out loud, but I stop, shaking my head, angry with myself for almost wasting my breath, and my wish. The St. Lalaurie Flower has finally bloomed. God, the curse of this flower! 
 
 I reach down, intent of gripping it in my fist, plucking it ruthlessly from the ground that had nurtured it for years, much as the curse of this blossom plucked my child from my arms. My tiny young daughter, blue in my arms, still, silent. 
 
 I release the bloom in anger, turning my face to the sky, screaming wordlessly my agony to the sky, my anger consuming me. 
 
 The black petals darken even more, becoming purple in the light, and now the bloom unfurls, spreading open its face to the moon. 
 
 Tears threatened to pour, but I held them back once more. The lump in my throat I could not swallow. I wished, my one wish since planting this hateful bud, and the world stopped, and everything went black. 
 
 My agony was over. But... would my sacrifice be enough? 
 
 I could only hope that my death would give all of those I loved and hurt the chance to live again. I could only hope that finally, those tormented could find peace as I found peace in the darkness. 
 
 But my peace was not to be. I was alive! But how? Had this cursed flower failed me yet again? I am alive, and this is hell.
