#mintyglitches

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.

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.

I was diagnosed with cancer at a young age. My parents were in denial of anything being wrong so didn’t take me to the doctors until it had gotten significantly worse. My Dad had sat me down and told me how I was going to die and I had made my peace with it, knowing there was no way around it. I decided to continue to live my childhood as if nothing was wrong. I started treatment and continued to act as if I was okay. I had to wear a beanie to hide the beginning of my hair loss, and I threw up a lot, but it was fine. I had my parents, I had my friends, and I had my pokemon cards. At that time, nothing else mattered.

I met a boy... For the sake of anonymity, I’ll call him Jooheon. Jooheon and I met as kids and I told him about my cancer right off the bat. I wasn’t going to waste my time making friends with someone only for them to leave me once they found out I was going to die. Not again. He didn’t make a big deal out of it but I could see that it took him by surprise. He gave me a pokemon card that I’d been wanting for months and I decided - yeah, I like this guy - and we quickly became friends. He came over frequently and we bonded well. We watched pokemon together and basically ignored the fact that I was dying. It was great. One day he came over with another friend. Let’s call him Seokmin. Seokmin... He was different than Jooheon... That was for sure. Where Jooheon ignored my innevitable death, Seokmin asked me questions about it. We bonded by talking about death and things that children shouldn’t really have such indepth conversations about. He started coming over with Jooheon and we got... Really close. I honestly think I fell for him. It was messed up but I fell for how unafraid he was to talk about these topics. He had a messed up Dad and one day confided in me about his situation.

Seokmin worked for The Arranger. His Dad was a flower and kept Seokmin’s Mother alive by making the ten sacrifices. Since he was born as a result of The Arranger and the sacrifices occuring, this meant that he had to live to serve The Arranger. Of course, when he told me this, he was a lot less blunt, but after a while, I ended up having to stay in the hospital a lot of the time. He told me properly about The Arranger then and I eventually agreed to meet him and do one death for one year.

Seokmin helped me a lot during that time. And I was then in remission. I got to go home and my parents were over the moon. The my year was coming to an end and the cancer got worse again. I said I wouldn’t do any more sacrifices. It’d be too weird for me to get better again and live for an extra twenty years. I was only a child and I wasn’t ready to kill more people. I just wanted to see the world a bit more before I went. That was all.

Then I started getting scared.

I gave in.

I let the flower talk me into doing the other 9 sacrifices.

And I got another 19 years.

I found Seokmin again and we got... Even closer. We both had become slaves to the flower. He to save his Dad and me to save myself. We had matching scars from the flower-planting, and we had matching lasting pain from going through the flower blooming. It’s as if we were made for each other, even if our love stems from a toxic dark place filled with death and blood.

All I wanted to save my Grandma. I knew that she was old, and that her time had to come eventually, but with everything that was going on in our family at the time, it surely couldn’t be time just yet?

I visited her in the hosital and held her hand while we chatted about stories of my Mother when she was younger. She used to be the kindest child, it seemed. Both me and Grandma wondered what had happened that turned her so cold now, and we both knew that deep down the soft happy core was still in tact.

As I left the hospital, a man approached me. He wore a hospital gown, making me assume he was a patient and he stopped me in my path.

“She’s dying... Isn’t she?”

I had never seen him before.

“Um, yes... Sorry, who are y-” I started.

He cut me off by handing me a piece of paper.

“If you’re desperate enough... I recommend it. But only if you really are that desperate.”

He began walking away and I opened the paper. On it, in terrible handwriting, was a message about ‘HIM’ who could help exchange lives for extra years of living. It didn’t make sense to me at the time and I just assumed the man was crazy. I left it and didn’t think much more of it until the OT7 deaths started occurring and Jimin made the video talking about ‘the flower’. It reminded me of the note and how at the bottom was the drawing of what looked like a bleeding daisy. Hearing other peoples stories about their interactions with the flower and the Arranger has made me wonder if this is connected. It really seems like it might be. And if so, then I’m really glad I didn’t go through with it.

I’m here to tell you my story, and how I met HIM.

At the age of 9, my Mother was diagnosed with Cirrhosis. Due to us living in America, we couldn’t afford health care insurance which meant we also couldn’t afford to pay for health care without any insurance. My Mother was left to suffer. Her death ruined me. My Father had been absent since before my birth and I never even knew who he was, and I had no other family to go to. So into the system I went.

My foster family was great. They cared for me, and the people I met there were amazing. Especially Emily.

I loved Emily. I loved her with my whole heart, and that love only grew as the years went on. Sure, in a way we were foster-sisters, but at the same time, we weren’t. We were best friends. And as much as it pained me, it never grew to anything more than that. Her boyfriend treated her well though, and I could never thank him enough for that.

Emily left one night and didn’t return home, causing worry throughout the whole house. She wasn’t the type to run away, or stay out late and be wreckless. When we got the call from the hospital, it made sense as to why she hadn’t returned home. A supposedly-drunk driver had hit her on her journey home, and as a result she had entered a comatose state.

She stayed that way for two years.

We were told that we should start thinking about “pulling the plug” due to no improvement in her condition. I screamed at our foster parents that they couldn’t chose to do that, but it was expensive holding her there for so long and they said it was time to face the facts.

She wasn’t going to wake up.

They decided that they’d wait two more weeks, and if there still remained no improvement, then they’d end her life support and accept her death.

I couldn’t let that happen.

It didn’t matter that Emily didn’t love me back. I still loved her and I couldn’t let her go.

So I became desperate.

A box got delivered to our house with my name on the package. I hadn’t ordered anything, a tiny part within me thought it might have been my Father finally reaching out. When I opened the box a single rose lay inside it with a note.

‘I know how we can save Emily. Meet me in Millennium Park in Chicago on the 18th at 2pm if you wish to find out. I will be wearing red with a rose in my hair. It will be difficult, but it can be done.

- YS’

I got a flight using part of my college funds to Chicago and searched for this ‘YS’. We met and... What she said sounded insane.

It sounded insane, but it was true. Every word of it.

She took me to meet The Arranger. As soon as I saw him, I knew this wasn’t bullshit. His eyes glowed with the light of a thousand suns, while the rest of him was shadowed darkness floating like whispers in the air.

He wasn’t human.

We made a deal. One life for one year. Ten lives for twenty years. He said I could start off with one, and change my mind if I so wished come to the end of the year, so that’s what I did.

I underwent surgery to get a flower placed within me and was told it would eventually bloom and I’d begin to hear it speak to me. I’d have to follow its orders and slowly allow it to feed off me so we could become one.

That’s exactly what happened.

Until the ninth sacrifice.

I couldn’t go through with it.

The flower wanted me to hurt the youngest kid in our foster house.

I stood over her bed, ready to do it, but I couldn’t commit.

Emily ended up dying.

It’s been three years and I’ve come to terms with it. I should be dead right now for disobeying, but as I began puking the petals for the first time, I cut open my chest and pulled the flower out myself. I passed out and thought I was going to die then and there, but at least it would have been a quicker death than the alternative. I survived, waking up in a hospital, my friend by my side, scared and confused.

I found that same friend dead in my bathtub this morning. A flower stabbed into her chest.

She was another flowers victim.

If you have a chance to meet The Arranger.

Don’t.

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.