For awhile, I did as I was told. No reward came. Things stayed the same until I reached a breaking point. If nothing is going to change, I said to myself, then why come here everyday? Yes, it is simple, but it brings me no joy. I made a quick mental choice to lie to Leo. To tell him I smelled the carnation, in hope of him telling me what it actually is like. As I walked back that day, I stumbled on the rocky canvas below my feet. Why was it so hard to walk on? I stepped through the school’s hallways. On my way, I pass a mirror. The once cherub-like body of an infant now appears stretched and lanky. It seemed I had reached a growth spurt, my pants cutting off mid-calf rather than their usual place at my ankles. I approach Leo, his hand swooping in spirals, a smooth calligraphy manifesting on parchment. He doesn’t look at me when he speaks; his expression is.... complex.

          “Could you smell the flower?” My stomach felt nauseous, needing more preparation before making my hoax.

          “Yes. It smells like sugar, and it is definitely much sweeter than the Lily.” Leo chuckles, and turns his head towards me.

          “It smells nothing of sugar, but I believe if you return now, you will easily know the flower’s true scent.” I was absolutely shell shocked. How did he know I lied? Preparing for complete embarrassment, I hang my head.

          “I won’t be able to. I have gone every day and yet I still have nothing.”  Again, his eyes soften, and he grabs my hand.

          “Come with me. I think you will understand once we are there.” Feeling the need to oblige, I let him guide me to the school ground garden; again, stumbling on the stones.

          “What will be different?” Leo ignores my inquiry, as he felt silence was all the answer I should have, and remains graceful as always. Wincing at a particularly jagged slab of the path, I bite back a yelp. Soon my mouth fills with the metallic zing of blood, having bit my tongue upon the sharp rock.  For a few moments, the sanguine fluid is visible; urgently, it moved from between my lips to swipe it away. To me, it would be immature to appear injured after stepping over a few stones, but Leo had already stopped. It was if he anticipated my stumble. The velvet like tips of his digits had already brushed crimson from my chin. I felt something in my chest I had never ever felt before. A swirling fever of confusion that was strung with pain, all tied together with the ache of a heart’s wound and other reactions I couldn’t even process. An irritation, as alarming as someone stealing the air from my lungs. I was caught in space itself.

          “The rocks aren’t easy to walk on, see? You have to learn them and ready yourself for those which aren’t so soft on the foot.” I only processed half of his words at most, having been too self absorbed in the new sense of pain. He lets me finish the moment, standing in front of me until I seem relaxed. The awkward encounter with the path finally ended, and the same daunting flora stares blankly, awaiting its trial. I crane my neck, and breathe in deeply. A challenging smell of pepper and spice swirl in my nostrils. Deeper, more pleasant notes buried within play their concerto, too. A quick shift from minor to major key. The same mess of emotions fill me, again cheating me of air. The feeling, like the Carnation, is bittersweet. Leo was smiling down at me, lips parted slightly, yet still not a full smile. More so a simper at my apparent realization. There was no need to ask why I could now feel the flower, it was as if the flower had become one with the rest of the garden. It was now a part of me. No longer was the garden the same syrupy tone of the Daisies or Lilies. The flowers that used to burst with candy perfume mellowed alongside the air in harmony. Of course still there, but the sharp new scent of red provided a new allurance completely unignorable. Tears began to trickle down the once clear palette of my face, my cheeks started to turn blotchy and red. No reflection was needed to see myself within a certain bud in the Carnations. A single flower stands out from the rest of the batch, holding multiple colors rather that the rest of the matching faces. My face itself seemed like the two-tone flowers of white spotted with scarlet. Bewildered and beyond my previous goal, I question the speculum before my very eyes.

          “Leo, why does that flower look like me?” For the first time that day, Leo gazed straight into my watery eyes.

          “Because you have learned of fickleness and heartache. You can now smell because the flower is you. Every part of this garden is within us. I am part of this garden, too, but I am simply a ruse.” At the time, I heard him say ‘Rose’. It made perfect sense to me. If I am one with this splotchy flower, then of course he is one with a Rose! The Pink Roses on the edge of the garden were trimmed, pristine, and in health, giving off a show of perfection  that one could see from a mile away. He looked just like them with his flawless appearance of complete simplicity and beauty.

          “Are there other flowers like the Red Carnation?” My eagerness to learn the garden grew, for what could smell more powerful?

          “Nothing is more refined than the Pink Rose,” He gazed towards another patch, “but, if I must, the Black Rose holds such a cologne to make you sleep.” Instantaneously, I ran to the ominous black rose, inhaling as hard as I could. “You will never smell that flower unless you feel complete despair,” He warns, “You will feel and become it at one time, but not yet. First you must learn the laws of perfection.”

          It was finally evident to me that I must complete tasks in order to become one with every flower of the school ground garden; my next goal was perfection.