One might say that all Roses have thorns, and if one would pay attention; the truth behind those thorns would sprout. But this was no ordinary rose, one without the spikes so many had seen with others; Rosie Sherman, the kindest woman in all of town. With her gray hair and her yellow dress, she was known by everyone in town. She would hold annual tea partys at her home with her husband and son by her side, inviting anyone and everyone she possibly could. The tea partys were extravagant, streamers and flowers covered the walls as the tables were set with fine china and tea sets. Everyone had their own spot, their own place to be them. Rosie would sometimes sit with the guests instead of her friends, making sure everyone was having a good time. She came over to my table once, she was everything people had said she was: Beautiful, Kind, Smart. And Caring; one might say she was the perfect women. Yet, I say that is far from truth. You see, unlike the others who sit at my table with me; I see her thorns. The spikes which keep her up at night, the pains she keeps quiet, and more many would be upset to see; but not me. I for some reason...cant bring myself to care. Cant bring myself to be swept away by her fake, charming smile used to lure these people into her facade. Nothing was perfect, no one was perfect, nothing was ever perfect for her. I remember her looking at me with that sweet smile, and I tried my best to smile back genuinely; but I could see the change in her face as I did, it was as if a light switch was grazed but not yet flipped. I could feel her eyes watching me as the night went on, but she was to never look at me. I had asked many others if she had been looking my way, but alas, nothing had been seen. This had happened more than once; after that evening, she would always sit down at the table, right across from me; her weak brown eyes almost never leaving mine. However, she seemed to stop after a while, in fact; she wasnt to be seen for a week. Everyone in town was worried, especially her husband and son; but not me. I tried, and I tried. But I couldnt feel anything, nothing at all.... I remember the day like it was yesterday, it was a rainy afternoon; no birds to be heard or no cars passing by, just the sound of rain tip taping on my windows when a knock at my door echoed through the house. As I opened my door, I see Rosie's son standing infront of me, a panicked expression on his face. He said that he found his mothers old headband down by the river while looking for her, told me he thinks she was swept away by the waters current and had asked me to accompany him down to the river. I should have said no, I should have known something was terribly wrong once I saw his face; yet, I wanted to make it seem like I felt something, to not break this boys heart. So I followed him to the river. We were standing on a bridge, he was looking down at the water and I looked up towards the sky, the rain pouring down my face. We had looked for about an hour before, yet nothing. He had started crying, as his tears begain to fall into the water, mixing in with the rain from above. I put a hand on his shoulder and told him I would keep looking, what a lie. After he was out of sight, I sat down by the river, my mind lost with questions, when I felt a sharp pain near the back of my head...then Everything went dark. I had woken up in what seemed to be a cabin, my hands tied to the seats arms, and my legs tied to the seats legs. I couldnt speak, my mouth had been covered, but I felt nothing. I tried looking around the room, but my head would ache everytime I tried to move. Then suddenly, a door has slammed in the other room, I could see the shadow from where I was trapped. The old woman came from around the corner, leather bag in hand as she had that stupid smile on her face like she always did. Rosie stood in front of me, her perfume being Vanilla and Poppys. She looked me dead in the eyes, watching me as she spoke: “Your not the real me.“ I froze, Im not the real her...but I am her...before I knew it I was back at the tea party, holding my husbands hand as my son was talking to his friends. I looked around the room at all these people from all around town when I saw it...I saw me. I decied to walk over to her, I smiled brightly as I greeted her. Yet i saw right through her fake smile...the one I may use in days like this, shes just my Thorn that needs to be taken care of; Rosie’s Old Thorn.