The Rose Torn

Chapter one

Not since six years ago, Rosemary had woken with certain knowledge, she'd remember the day for as long as she lived.

It happened only once -- years ago, when she had woken up, her belly knotted in the tight and the wetness slicked down her thighs. Unsure and scared, she had ran downstairs, unaware of the red stain adorning her pajamas. Both, Catherine and Beatrice had been already sitting at the table and eating their breakfast; her mother, already dressed in her work clothes, had her back turned.

"Rosie, dear," she spoke in the stern voice. "Don't oversleep at Saturday. We're moving to Rose Valley."

"Moving? Mum--"

It was Beatrice who started to laugh, and Catherine, being the reasonable one, spoke in her nasal voice. "Rosie, had you got your period?"

Rosemary blinked, banishing the memory away, had wrapped her beige knitted cardigan around body, the denim dungarees and white shirt underneath it like her second body. She collected her unruly locks into the messy bun and ran down the stairs tightening the the apron -- 'Welcome to Meade's Pastries & Coffee' gleamed in bright pink words.

While the blood flew from her in stream and her belly knotted in cramps, she had no other choice but to take over Lilly's shift today. Her friend, and boss, had her first appointment with the doctor. She had been four weeks along already.

Don't get it wrong, she had been excited for her friend, yet she wasn't thrilled about the morning rush, which was Lilly's specialty.

She let out exasperated sigh.

Although Lilly had been more than ten years her senior, they had become fast friends when she pleaded for a shelter, after running from her prom. It was miracle to her that Meade's Pastries & Coffee had been opened at such late hour, but nevertheless, she rushed in and lost her date on her tail.

Heading toward the radio, Rosemary put her favorite station on, the soft tones of rock ballads coming out. The smile tugged on her lips.

Despite her aching stomach, it was perfect morning.

She looked around -- the warm colors adorned the walls and big wooden windows would let in enough sun rays. The scent of freshly brewed coffee had spread among the shop. Rosemary took glance at the counter -- young girl stood there, her blonde hair pulled into two high buns, the ends of it dyed in rainbow colors. She had chewed on her gum as she prepared the coffee for their first patron. An older man, Greg -- or was it George, she hadn't been sure, had patted his bulging stomach joyously, his fat cheeks red after he placed the fresh portion of crispy apple cinnamon scones.

Her mouth watered. They had been her favorite.

When she lit the candles, Rosemary retreated behind the counter and poured the cup of strong black coffee for their eccentric baker, who'd take it when he brings the next portion of the sweets.

"Izzy," she called after the girl. "Would you start a pot of sweet tea?"

And although Rosemary wasn't overly fond of sweet beverages--the sweet tea had always helped her with the cramps. The young woman nodded fervently. Rosemary shook her head, she was assured that she liked her afternoon shifts better. Jenny, the young mother with whom she worked, hadn't been that much cheerful and gossip monger like Izzy.

By ten o'clock Rosemary had feeling she had known every gossip in Rose Valley.

She looked through the windows -- it had been first November week and whole town had been wrapped up in the fog curtain for the morning. It seemed to diminish the morning rush a little bit. Rosemary had brought the cups back to the station, Izzy tapping on her phone.