Revenge of the Roses

Chapter 3 ~Alana~

School finished early today, obviously because of the fire, so I started to make my lonely journey home, left unattended with my thoughts.

Who was Morgan?

The thought kept running through my mind.

What Kingdom?

Not a Sun, he didn't seem to care; he was too badass for them.

Definitely not a Diamond; in their mind black is the devils colour, and black suited Morgan too well. I can just imagine him on a purring motorbike, smirking as I hop onto the back of it, wrapping my arms around his strong torso as he revved the engine and...

You're going off topic again, Alana. Stop fantasizing.

No, he's not a Diamond.

Not a one of us Roses, either-he had no manners... There was a possibility that he was an eagle; he seemed clever and stuck up- or 'aristocratic', shall I say...but I don't think so.

I bet he's a Sword.

I heard a noise behind me, as I let out a sigh. I spun round, scanning the pavement and feeling mildly twitchy. Nothing. I carried on walking, looking at the houses around me. They were all dull and unassuming, all similar with organised red bricks, two square windows, and a dirty plastic door. Then I arrived at my house.

I could see it towering over the others before I had turned onto the road. Mortals couldn't see it; they only saw a house the same as the ones before, but anyone from the kingdoms saw it in all its glory.

It was four or five times the size of the rest of the houses, standing proud at the end of a long gravel driveway, framed with huge trees and neat bushes, speckled with ruby red flowers. It was bright white, and looked a bit like a typical fairytale palace, with turrets and sloping roofs, jutting off in all directions. The windows were ornate, ovals, arches, circles, diamonds- all shapes imaginable. Even the guttering was aesthetically pleasing- twisting and twirling metal stems, topped with red roses. It was beautiful, a house representation of the rose kingdom.

It'll be all mine some day; I can live in it with my children and Morga... No. No way.

I walked onto the drive, pushing through the enchantment my mother had made that stopped humans from entering the kingdoms. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a figure; I spun round to see... nothing.

OK. It felt like someone was watching me.

I shivered, feeling goosebumps rise on my arms, but carried on up the driveway. When I arrived at the huge red door, I reached into my pocket to grab my key, but the door swung open before I could pull it out.

Strange, they never open the door.

I smiled and nodded at the maid who had opened the door.

"Excuse me princess." She called out, her voice hoarse.

Why does she look so sad? What's happened?

"The queen would like to speak with you, my highness." She carried on.

What have I done now?

'The queen?!' They normally just say something like 'Your Mother' or whatever. I must've done something really bad.

I nodded and walked through the hallway into the Great Hall, trying to prepare myself for a lecture, thinking about all the things I had done recently.

The Great Hall was the only room in the house that was old fashioned, it was huge and echoey with intricate gold tapestries that showed the bountiful lands of the roses and timelines of all the leaders. These tapestries were draped across the cream walls, and the high gold-plated ceiling, and floor made of ancient honey coloured marble, warped from age, gave the room a superior and regal atmosphere I walked in, bursting in through the huge wooden doors.

"Mom, you wan...." I stopped dead.

What the-?

Who was SHE? Where was my mum?!

Sitting on the golden throne at the top of the room was a girl. She looked a few years older than me, 20 at the most. The thing that surprised me most was who she looked like. She looked like me.

"Who are you?" I demnded, looking round the room desperately for my mum. She looked at me, her blue eyes full of sadness.

"Where's my mother?" I called out again.

What's going on?

She pushed thick brown hair out of her face, and that's when I noticed what was perched on her head.

Why is she wearing that? That belongs to my mother! Who he hell is she?

On top of her head, was my mother's crown. The crown that the queen of the Rose Kingdom wore. It was beautiful, gold, metal curves into spirals and points, intricately designed with hundreds of small roses, each one with 10 rubies and a diamond.

"Where is my mother?" I repeated, unable to stop the panic in my voice. I ran up the length of the throne room, until I was standing in front of her. Up close I could see her face and eyes were red from crying. She let out a sob, not even bothering to wipe the fresh lot of tears. Looking at her I felt as if I was looking in a mirror... we looked almost identical.

"My name is Sylina. Sylina Nelson. I'm your ...older sister." She said, her voice strong, but wavering.

No. I don't have a sister. NO.

"I'm sorry Alana. I don't want to be the bearer of bad news but..."

This can't be happening. Please No. She can't be gone. She isn't. Of course she isn't. Please. I loved her...

"Your mother...our mother...she...she was... murdered. We don't know who by, but she's gone. I'm sorry." She said slowly, carefully picking out her words. She was silent for a moment, before she broke into another set of tears.

Mummy. My mummy. She can't be gone. Why? This can't be real. It's a dream. I'll wake up and I'll be in the fire again. No. No. NO. It can't be real because we were going to have bacon sandwiches and I was going to tell her about today, and the fire, and mean girls, and Morgan, and who he was. No.

I stood still, staring at this girl claiming to be my sister.

I don't have a sister. Stop. This was a joke.

I didn't cry. I felt too numb to cry. I just slowly left the room, shoes clacking loudly as the sound reverberated. I walked through the doors, leaving them open, then I ran as fast as I could through the house, until I reached my turret and began to climb the stairs to my room. I slammed the door to the stairs behind me, and sprinted up them, running all the way to the top and panting loudly, before I flung myself onto my bed, curling up into a small ball.

She's gone. My mom. Murdered. Gone.

I looked up at my small wardrobe I had in this room. Stuck to the door was a small note, and written in my mother's graceful handwriting was a note:

Dearest Alana,

I will be gone when you are reading this. I am sorry, but there is nothing I can do. There is nothing that can be done to stop what is going to happen.

Please do not blame yourself. It may hurt now, but over time the pain will ease. Always remember I will be with you, in your heart, in your mind. Until you forget me, I will be here.

Tonight, there will be a party celebrating your sisters crowning-please go to it. I am afraid I have no time to explain her, and I hope you can forgive me for keeping her a secret from you. Maybe if you discovered more about her, you will understand.

I love you forever and always. Please stay strong, my darling baby girl. I am with you.

Yours forever,

Mummy.

xxx