Legend of the Flower

My ex-girlfriend started panicking, telling me that she had hanahaki disease because I didn’t love her back. 1) Hanahaki disease is a FICTIONAL disease so there’s no way she had it, and 2) I did love her. I loved her so fucking much.

Explanation for those who don’t know: Hanahaki disease is a fictional disease where someone vomits flowers if their love for someone isn’t requited. Again, IT’S FICTIONAL. Yet... She was definitely vomiting flowers, or petals FROM flowers at least. I helped her through it, holding her hair back and everything, but she kept blaming it on me and saying it was hanahaki.

She went home that night and continued to vomit flower petals until she died.

Eventually I started wondering if it WAS hanahaki disease. That maybe it WAS real, and maybe she DID have it even though I definitely loved her, but maybe it wasn’t enough. I started to blame myself for it. Then her Mom gave me her diary at the funeral saying that -name redacted- wanted me to read it if anything happened to her. It took me about five months to actually pluck up the courage to read it but I did. I finally stopped blaming myself because I had a new theory. It wasn’t hanahaki. It was caused by ‘The Flower Demon’ that she had written about countless times in her diary. Among the sweet memories of us together and the funny anectdotes of times with her friends, were countless retellings of how she felt about ‘The Flower Demon’ and reflections on the time she accidentally killed a kid. I was horrified at that last part. Apparently she drowned a kid by accident and then when trying to resuccitate him, blacked out. When she came to, she was at home again. The kid was dead. What makes it worse is that it wasn’t the first time. She had made an agreement with this ‘Flower Demon’ which involved killing a sacrifice to give someone dying an extra year of life. She had done it. I never knew that I was dating a murderer until after she had died herself. And what I hate is that I’m pretty sure she died because of that fact.

- Posted by Rose 🌹

This is a short one but when I was in hospital after I had some surgery complications for a broken leg (I’m a dancer so it was a big deal) I got a letter from a ‘YS’ who claimed to be able to help me and ‘save my life’. The next morning, the note was gone and a young girl, maybe six years old, left from the hospital while all the doctor’s claimed a miracle had happened over night. I didn’t think anything of it but someone here mentioned something about a YS note before so I feel like it might be related. Just a guess though.

Sorry about the temporary blog deletion the other day! Not quite sure what happened there 😬 But everything seems to be up and running again, so the submissions shall continue!!!!

Just wanted to say thank you to all the kind warm welcomes to the blog I’ve been recieving and say that I’ll try to get through as many submissions as possible!!

Also I’ve noticed quite a few of the submissions have been in Korean so if there are any translators out there willing to help, please let me know!! 😁

I watched a flower die in front of my very eyes after they had tried to kill me as a sacrifice. I wish I could say I was lying for the fun of it or whatever, but I’m not. It was the scariest experience of my whole entire life and I’ve not been able to tell people about it because they wouldn’t believe me.

In school there was this guy. I’m going to call him James. His name definitely wasn’t actually James. Not at all. James was one of the super nice guys that only had a small group of two or three friends and everyone else just kinda left him to his own devices. No one really paid much attention to him. Except my sister. My sister thought he was the coolest guy in the whole school (I’ll never understand why) and wished that he would ask her out despite the two never having more that 10 words said in a conversation with each other.

Anyway, my sister started noticing that he had began acting a bit different at school. Nothing major, just like he seemed a bit... Off? She asked him what was up one time but he just acting like everything was fine and it was left at that. But then he started getting more weird up to the point where he was downright unstable. There was a whole scene in gym where he kept hitting a guy (definitely not called Matthew) until he was practically unconscious and I shit you not, he yelled the words “I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch. I’ll kill you and feed you to the angel of darkness. He’ll devour your soul while I relish in the screams of your demise.” It’s safe to say that it’s no wonder the police made James the main suspect when Matthew showed up dead, hanging in his house with his arms held up like angel wings by christmas lights. The dude was fucking mental. Did my sister care? No. She thought he was ‘misunderstood’ and ‘scarily hot’ which jesusfuckingchristisweartogodsarahNO. Anyway, she invites him round a few times while he’s being investigated and he REFUSES to talk about the investigation, and he seems really timid and weak and fucking terrified. It was the weirdest 180 degree shift. He then came over quite regularly and started to seem like a genuinely nice dude again but this time a lot more scared. Scared of what? Fuck knows. Himself it seemed.

One time he came over unannounced though. His eyes... His eyes were white. Like. ALL white. No iris, no pupil, just white eyeballs with this like... Black smoke??? coming out of them. It was fucking weird. Of course, I was freaked out because what the hell?! And then he pulls out a fucking knife from behind his back and starts walking towards me slowly, soulless eyes staring intensely with every step. I fucking ran into the kitchen, my immediate thought to get my own knife to defend myself - stupid, I know. My logic was that in a sword fight you both have swords, so if he has a knife which is kinda like a tiny sword, then so should I - and he just continued walking slower until he had me trapped in the kitchen. A smile crept up on his face as he tilted his head, still continuing to stare and the words “He’s running out of time,” came out of him but... It sounded like maybe like 8 different voices all at once??? He stepped forwards again and then I was basically fighting this dude for my life. I threw stuff at him, I started throwing KNIVES AT HIM - terrible idea to throw all the weaponry into the direction of the person trying to kill you, especially if your aim is shit - and it wasn’t until after about 20 minutes of me finding the most stupid ways to avoid getting fucking stabbed by this guy that he has his knife lodged into my shoulder with my body up against the wall. He rips it out and aimed it right over where my heart is, letting that smile somehow get even wider and more terrifying. Then he pauses. Drops the knife, it almost landing on my foot, and his eyes start flickering slightly almost as though he was malfunctioning. He then starts coughing and its a disgusting mixture of blood, this black goo, and flower petals. Like, legit flower petals. These bright pink petals coated in black sludge and blood. He kept coughing and then basically vomitting these up while I just watched horrified. He ended up on his hands and knees, chucking up what looked like a mixture of life and death, and then he curls up into a ball on the floor and begins crying as he continues. He then runs out of stuff to throw up and he just begins shaking slightly as he cries, before looking to me, eyes now normal, and saying ‘please’. Then he just stopped. His body became motionless and weak as all life left his eyes which stared at me, looking too human for what I had just witnessed. It was almost like he was possessed.

Anyway, after finding some videos on the flower shit and then a discord server where people posted about that kinda stuff, I kinda figured this guy was most likely a flower. Now, I don’t know what the fuck happened that caused him to die like that, but I’m sure someone out there will be able to work it out.

Cheers,

Totally-not-Chris

When I was six years old, I walked in on a sight no six year old should ever have to see. I had spent the whole day at my Grandma’s, playing teddy bear’s picnic and swimming in her pool, only to come home and have my whole day ruined. As I walked through the door, took off my shoes, and entered the livingroom, there laid my Mother. Lifeless. Surrounded by her own blood. Eye’s wide open in fear. And a flower stabbed into her chest, a note beside her simply reading ‘It had to be done. I’m so sorry.’ I ran into my Grandma’s arms, terrified and almost confused at what I was seeing. She held me tight and continued to stare at the scene infront of us, until she pulled me away from her, holding me at a shoulder-lengths distance, and said: “Pack your most important things and some clothes. We have to leave.” I asked why but she refused to tell me. We moved to Germany, starting over fresh, and continued to live our lives there for the next eight years or so. I brought up the topic once again in a café after years of remaining silent and was immedietely hushed by my Grandma. She said we couldn’t talk about it in public and told me not to bring it up again. The only words that had left my mouth when I brought it up were “Why did we have to leave when we found Mom with that flower in her chest.” It was the feature that stood out most to me and it seemed less scary than actually saying she had died for some reason. Apparently that was all I needed to say. When we got up to leave a woman watched us the whole way and it always struck me as odd.

It wasn’t until I saw on Twitter about Nae Yeonsoo dying that I found out who that woman was. And it wasn’t until I saw Jimin’s video talking about it that I found out why she was watching me. It’s no coincidence that Nae Yeonsoo died. Jimin said that she died because she knew too much, but I think she knew too much because she was a Flower herself. Or at least knew one. There’s no other explaination for why the mention of a flower would get someones attention so strongly.

So, my name's Yoomi. 

I was 15 years old when I got my first car. My father gave it to me as a birthday present and said that I shouldn't drive it until I turn 18. The car was really pretty and honestly, I was desperate to drive it already. 

It was about 12am/midnight, the same day where my father gave me a car, and I went out to drive it. Surprisingly I wasn’t that bad at driving and since there were no other vehicles, it made the driving easier. I started to lose focus, my thoughts getting all messy and next thing I knew, there was a truck heading in my direction. I lost control of the steering wheel and ended up crashing into the truck. Suddenly everything is black, my thoughts turned off and vision gone, until I woke up, a white sealing above me. A doctor came to me, checking up on how I was doing and ended up saying that I was in “critical condition”. He left to go run some other tests and when he came back he had a bouquet of flowers with a note attached. He said it was from my boyfriend but I don't have a boyfriend, or even just any friends that happen to be male. I unfolded the note and read it. 

‘If you don’t want to die, meet me at the park that's beside the hospital. 7PM.’

I debated with myself whether I should actually do as the note said, especially since I had no idea who it was from, but honestly... I was scared to die. So once visiting hours were over, the sky outside was dark, and the hospital went quiet, I snuck out so I could meet whoever sent the note and flowers. I began walking towards the park, and as soon as it hit 7 o’clock, I saw a person, all in black wearing a cap and a face-mask approaching. I couldn't tell if they were a man or a woman or what, but they continued to approach until I could hear them.

They said their name was ‘The Flower’. They said there was another person known as 'The Arranger' and that if I followed their instructions, that they could keep me alive. I debated it for a while but ended up agreeing to it.

About a week later I heard a voice coming from the bouquet of flowers the so called ‘flower’ had given me. I ended up in a dark place filled with smoke and honestly it’s a bit of a blur. It felt as if I wasn’t in control of my actions.

A week after THAT, I let him perform surgery on me. I had to get a flower placed within my chest. I still remember every second of pain and torture I had to go through, and I have a massive scar on my chest to remind me of it whenever I undress. 

I did what The Arranger told me to do. Every single thing it asked. I now have twenty extra years added to my life... I constantly question if it was worth it.

Reading all of your stories, and seeing the news with the murders of those internet guys, I just... I feel like I got myself into something so much bigger. How does any of this even work? How long has The Arranger been around for? Why is it only NOW that the flower’s activities are being told to the whole world?  My Aunt saw my scar and showed me hers that matched. She served The Arranger back in 1967 to save her sister. This isn’t a recent thing and I don’t know how I feel about it all. I kind of want to find older people who have had experiences with The Arranger and the flowers. Where do the voices come from? Is it from the souls of those who have served The Arranger? Is that my fate? To be turned into a flower and planted in someone? Forcing them to kill people? I just... I don’t know. It’s a lot to think about.

okay so im about to hand this account over to someone new. they want to go by ‘rose’ fitting in with the whole flower theme. rose will continue to post submissions and ill continue to look for amy. ill still have access to the account so ill post updates.

amys been missing for several days. now i dont want to jump to conclusions and shes quite a spontaneous person so for we know she might have just randomly gone to japan for a week or something. but after seeing the last post on here i cant help but wonder. her family are still in the uk so cant check up on her and connor left because of a family emergancy which leaves only me. there is a chance she just went somewhere else but its unlike her to not message me back.

This isn’t as crazy as the other stories I’ve read on here but, my friend got way too into the whole ‘Omegle Flower’ situation and we tried to track him down one night on the site at a sleepover. We found him and did the typical asking questions like ‘What’s my full name?’ and ‘What school do I go to?’ to see if he really could just find out this information on us. He did and then we decided to ask ‘What’s your full name?’ seeing if he’d tell us that. He said he couldn’t tell us that, and so we asked why.

He said it was because he was somewhat famous and had “big plans” to carry out and couldn’t risk getting caught.