Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Roses

The smell of roses fill my nose as I wander through the myriad of halls. I'm trapped here a prisoner of my own desires. I wanted to free him from the pain and anguish but after tonight..... The crimson dress that perfectly contrasts my pale skin hinders me as I walk. He is evil, but another side of him reveals kindness and love.

I look down at my arm, the bleeding hasn't stopped, the white handkerchief has become the color of my dress. We had been talking, his throaty laughter making the darkness in the room dissapear. One of the servants had dropped something. The anger, he had picked up a knife and I had thrown myself at him to stop. He was too fast, the knife intended for the servant impaled itself in my arm . I stared at him his face a million emotions. Then I ran.

That had been hours ago, the knife was easy to remove. I knew I was dying by the way the blood spurted in sync with my heartbeat. I continued to wander wishing to die on my feet rather than sitting. I could hear him calling for me begging for forgiveness. I would forgive him, no matter what he did. I slumped to the floor mid-step. I started imagining what my funeral would look like what he would say. What color roses he would place on my coffin.

He found me then his features twisted in anguish. I reached for his face but my hand didn't make it. It dropped limply disappearing in the folds of my dress. I closed my eyes and leaned back the last thing I smelt was roses. It was always roses.





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback