(cw: violence and death)
Edith's garden always secured a spot in the parade of homes. How could it not? It looked like paradise framed by lush rhododendron bushes. Birds would sing hymns, bumblebees would dance through the air before resting on zinnias. It was a place that proved the concept of love at first sight.
Every year, walkers and visitors would ask frail, old Edith about her secret. How was she able to tend to this enormous garden? Did she have helpers? And how do her plants always grow so lusciously? Little old Edith would only reply with a little laugh and a shrug, before continuing her gardening.
She would never share her secrets and she was sure that her helpers wouldn't either.
After all, she made sure to cut them into the smallest, unrecognizable bits before mixing them into the soil.