They’re not terrible. They’re not beautiful. They’re not dead, but they’re rotting.
The roses in the vase that you once gave me, are losing their color.
They are losing their scent. Their thorns fall off with a touch.
You used to keep one by your bed. One of the twelve.
When it started to wither and cave in on itself, you replaced them. It was a simple gesture. It showed how much you love me.
But now they sit on my bedside table, forgotten.
I’ve taken good care of them. I watered them. Gave them sun. Talked to them. Loved them. Why do they die?
Why did you leave me? I ask myself each night. What more did you need from me? Did I not care enough? Did I forget something vital?
Or was it just your time?
We are like a rose. Always appearing to show affection and love. To be a constant reminder of passion.
What happens when the roses begin to die? Does it mean you don’t care? Does it mean you’ve forgotten me?
Or did I do as much as I could?
Their thorns and protection falls down, as do my walls. I’ve built them up to keep from getting hurt, but now they have crumbled at my feet.
Their petals fall, as do my tears. Shrinking the longer they lay. Maybe it’s acceptance. Maybe it’s grief. Maybe it’s knowing it’s finally our time.
We are like a rose. Never permanent, but a temporary beauty. Never there forever, but a small joy in life.
You were a picker. A chooser. You had to decide to give me love and it changed with the seasons. You couldn’t keep the roses alive. You saw something pretty and took it.
You’ll always be my first love, but maybe it’s time I accept the loss and find myself a gardener.
“Do you really love me?” I ask.
It’s late at night and we’re sitting on the living room couch watching a movie. His left arm is around my shoulders and I’m wrapped in a blanket.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” He retorts without even looking my direction.
“I just needed to make sure.”
“Why?” He finally turns towards me. “What do you think this is?”
“I don’t know. You seem so distant lately.” I am choking up. My words are failing me. I feel so used and useless.
The man who promised me forever needed a model housewife to lie to the cops. Someone with connections who is gullible enough to believe in true love.
“Works been busy. I’ll try to make more time for you, but I can’t stop the sales for you.” He lets go of my hand and looks back at the TV.
“I understand.” I look back at the TV as well. The main character is chastising his wife for questioning his work life. How ironic. They’re fighting and she’s crying. I wish I could do the same.
“Get me drink babe.” It’s not a request.
I get up and walk to the kitchen and pour a glass of bourbon.
“Careful not to spill.” I say handing it to him.
I watch him take a swig and cough.
“That’s strong stuff. Where did you get it?”
He looks at me concerned. His eyes are red and watering.
“I just took one out your liquor cabinet. Is there something wrong?”
“I don’t recognize it. What was it called?”
“I don’t remember. I think is was Ar-sen-kick or something?”
His mouth falls open before his body rolls off the couch.
I take the ring off his finger and prepare to lead my own scheme. I already have an empire to work with.
Little miss perfect wife. How could I have been so blind?
All that matters now is that in filthy rich and running a man’s world.
There’s bodies covering the cliffs around me. Perhaps throwing myself off is my only option. I’m sure the waves would catch me. They would treat me kinder than my pursuers.
“Give up now or face death! We have you surrounded. Your men lie dead. It’s either jump or submit yourself for trial by the king.” A soldier on horseback proclaims.
“Over my dead body!” I shout back in retaliation. I practically hear him thinking ‘that can be arranged.’
I take a step back. Small pebbles fall of the cliff from the force.
Maybe a death I get to choose is better than a death chosen by them. I get to keep my reputation. Give Jameson the disappointment of never catching me. And maybe, I survive the fall.
I hear my heart pounding in my ears as the fog starts to clear. It’s racing with such force it might run out of chest.
White horses in neat lines are surrounding me. Both of my options are horrible. Where is the power of flight when you need it?
“You are charged with treason of the king and the kingdom. You were a respected general. What made you switch sides?” The caption on horse back questions.
“I’m not a traitor,” I proclaim. “I was never on your side.”
I leap, and pray I don’t drown.
She is too perfect. Everyone who looks at her falls in love.
Hair the color of the moon. Everyone notices her when she walks into a room.
You can’t help but stare at the girl who holds her head a little too high. Who walks with such small steps she appears to be floating.
Every guy dreams of being with her. Every girls dreams of being her.
“Who is she?” “What makes her different?” “Why can’t I have her confidence?”
“Her nose is perfect.” “Her lips, just right.” I want to be her more every night.
Her eyes shine like stars and she always knows what to say. She holds herself high like she deserves everything given to her (she does).
Homecoming queen, prom queen, student body president. What doesn’t she have?
Why can’t I be perfect too? Why can’t I hold the attention of everybody in a room?
Why am I always shy if words, and my complexion is flawed.
If only I could be her, then I would feel perfect too.
“She is just too perfect” everyone thinks. What they don’t know is that she cries herself to sleep.
“I was just trying to be what you wanted.” The hero trembles. Shaking as though the earth itself was trying to get them to fall to their knees. The blood around me is making me dizzy. “I told you I was willing to go as far as I needed to. I needed you to love me back!”
The villian looks at the hero covered in blood and sighs. “It was my job to give you the world. And now you’ve destroyed it.”
The city around them is in ruins. Smoke fills the air. The hero once fought to keep it alive, but now they will be known as the cause of its demise.
“I just wanted to give you the world as you wanted it.” The hero falls to their knees.
“Foolish. I wanted to see the world as you saw it. A beautiful place. Now all I see is how far I’ve corrupted you.” The villian lifts the hero’s head with a finger. “My world got brighter with you in it. Why did you have to become like me and seek its demise?”
“To gain your attention.” The hero lets out a sigh.
The villain lets go of the hero and reaches to their side, “I think you’ve got the attention of the world. You’re more psychotic than me, and I can’t have that. It ruins my reputation.”
The villian draws their sword and for the first time, the blood on the hero’s hand is their own.
We live in a land where the footprints of ghosts linger. Where the easiest thing to solve is a murder.
They abruptly end, they seem to never cease. Whenever you’re scared, they’re there at least.
What do you think happened at the tracks that end at the oak tree? Or to the young damsel who stops at the creek?
It’s a haunting thing to know, you can retrace the dead. But it’s even worse to never know where they lie.
Sometimes it’s hard to tell, reality or fantasy. Who meant well, or who was sent from hell.
Today I chose wrong, the only hint of life is a singular firefly. It is here, the suicide cliff of demons that can’t bring themselves to lie.
The ones meant to trick you. Deceive you, who can’t bring themselves to do so.
Swallowed up by hate for themselves. Who can’t look at people like myself.
Follow your dreams. Follow unknown footprints. Go unexplored places. Search far and wide.
But I warn you, my child. Never look for the place where demons go to die.
Your skin shines like gold. Your hair just as fine. How I wish someday I can call you mine.
The words I can’t say to you, I dream of every night. Perfecting them incase I get the courage to do.
I turn my head when you sigh. Every joke I make, I listen for your laugh. My friends call me crazy, for loving someone like that.
Maybe someday things will change. Maybe someday I’ll look at you and you’ll know. That the boy who has everything wants the girl who thinks she deserves nothing.
When I look in the mirror, I see you behind me. Haunting me. Taunting me.
You stare into my soul and at every fragile part of me, because who am I without you?
You’ve seen my worst. After all, you caused it.
I see you grab my hands. Pet my head. Steal all my innocence.
You were my undoing. Now I can’t do anything without you in the back of my mind.
When I look in the mirror, I see you behind me. Toying with me. Ploying with me.
I wish I never met you. But I wouldn’t be who I am without you.
Maybe my trials made me a better person. Maybe I can still hate you. But maybe I just hate myself for trusting you.
“Sarah Bolluck. You have hereby been accused of witchcraft. What have you to say for yourself?”
“Nothing that will change your mind.”
“Then let her be hanged!”
The crown roars. Pitchforks and lanterns at the ready.
It’s very early in the witch trials. Only a few accused so far. Sarah Bolluck has always been the most obvious.
From people claiming her eyes change colors, to the paleness of her face. Her pointed ears and inhuman voice. Sarah Bullock was always seen as something other than human. But they never knew how dangerous something is, when you don’t understand it.
Sarah Bolluck holds her head high and as soon as the executioner is about to kick the barrel out from under her feet, she vanishes.
“I knew she was a witch!” Her neighbor yells!
“I said that I couldn’t change your mind. But that was only with words.” Sarah’s voice rings through the trees.
The breeze starts picking up. The moon vanishes behind a cloud and someone screams.
“Something touched my face! She’s cast a spell on me!” A woman falls to the ground, clawing at her face. “Get it off!”
People step back. Nothing to do for someone cursed.
“Simple humans. Blaming others for your downfall.”
Another woman drops.
The mayor looks fearful. Terror radiates in his eyes. He looks like a lamb being hunted.
“Come on out witch! Pay for you crimes on earth before you have to pay for them in hell!”
Everything around him goes dark. Long claw like nails dig into his sides. Red eyes stare back at him and her fangs are drawn.
“Who says we aren’t in hell?”
I hear shuffling behind me. 4. 5. 6. A door shutting. 7. 8. 9. Giggling from down the hallway. 10. Utter silence.
“I’m going to find you.” I call out into the darkness.
Starting with the most obvious places, behind doors, under beds, in cabinets, dang they’re good.
I hear the sound of a tin can falling from the kitchen and sneak inside.
I open the door and yell, “gotcha!” Right before a hand covers my mouth and another covers my eyes
Rosalie
It’s been ten minutes and I’m still hiding. Should I check and see if she’s ok? I would have thought I would hear or see other people looking right now. Jessie’s pretty smart and should have at least found one person right now.
I pull out my phone and start to text the group chat. I don’t care that it’s wimpy to use my phone during dark hide and seek, I’m getting scared.
anyone still standing? -Rosalie
“Yes” comes up by six different people. No one is found yet.
wait. No one’s found yet? Are we worried? -Jackson
I wait for a response.
_I haven’t heard her. Maybe she is outside and looking? Trying to scare us? _ -Tasha
she’s not outside. I’m on the balcony and I haven’t seen her -Henry
nobody knows where she is? -Mason
guys, calm down. I’m sure she’s ok -Sophie
_idk. We should go though. Cops are on their way. Someone must have called on us _ -Sadie
please tell me you’re joking -Rosalie
I mean, she said it was a bad idea. Maybe she got scared and called them? -Jackson
Maybe he’s right. Jessie’s smart, but also not the bravest. She the kind to pull harmless pranks but still get good enough grades. Not exactly smart for her brains, but smart morally. She knows when we’ve gone too far. She’s the kind of person your parents will let you go out with no matter how late at night because she just knows when to stop, but it’s not like her to completely leave without a word.
She can be loud. She can fight. When she wants to leave, she makes sure everyone leaves. She won’t leave you behind no matter how drunk, beat up, or high you are. She takes you as her responsibility. So where is she?
I’ve called her twice. Nothing. Maybe we should just go? -Sadie
_shes definitely not here. I say make a break for it _ -Henry
We really are stupid teenagers. Stupid for playing a game where you split up in an abandoned building, but even worse for leaving somebody behind.
