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The dark figure of Rose wandered on the streets. The dark blue hood of her cloak hid her face, her eyes piercing through the shade it casted. She had the fabric crunched in her hands, the bandages around her skin pushing against the wounds. She had her light brown hairs in a low ponytail, loose strands framing her face.
The cold winter wind blew on her fragile back, the pink dress she wore moving in sync with her motions. It was dark outside, the streets dangerous for a girl like her.
She looked up at her house, the large building standing in front of her. She was able to feel the bad vibe through the walls, some dark memories made in that mansion. Rose was terrified to go inside and wished that she was able to run back to the place she has seen today. She wanted to run back to the person she met today, but her mind stopped her heart from leaving and made her open the brown door.
Rose opened the front door with her keys, the smell of warm food hit her in the face. She closed her eyes and inhaled the smell, enjoying the warmth of the little fires burning in the big open-fire in the living room. Her parents sat in the couch, both talking to one another. Rose could see her mother wearing her nightgown, ready to tuck herself in bed and sleep the night away. Her father had a book in his hand and his glasses stuck on his nose. He read the story while listening to his wife's adventures.
"Rose, is that you?," her father asked, placed his cup of tea on the table and turned himself to his daughter.
"There is some food left for you."
"You didn't wait for me to eat?" Rose sounded surprised, her head tilted to one side and her feet pointing at the kitchen. She wanted to know what she had to eat, she wanted to see how much was left.
"No, we had no idea when you would return," her mother answered.
"Oh and Rose, you need to cover that bruise on your face more. We don't want people to think weird things about the family."
"Yes, I'm sorry mom. I'll try my best tomorrow." Rose left the living room and took a seat at the dining table, a plate standing in front of her. She looked at the small amount of food, only some hot vegetables on the side and a glass of water next to it. She picked up the fork and stuffed her cheek with carrots.
She stared into the darkness, daydreaming about the things that happened that day. Thinking about the crowded streets, the boys protesting for the poor and the beggars smiling up at the them, seeing their future in the students' eyes.
She thought about the golden man with the long blond hairs who walked into her and helped her to safety as an apology. Rose thought about every detail she remembered from him, how blue his eyes appeared to be, the light beautifully reflecting in the color of his pupils. She thought about his golden locks, how they moved with his movements and how the curls bounced up and down.
She stopped herself for thinking about him anymore, but the day kept flashing before her eyes. Her memories messing with her head. She felt the bruise on her cheek with her soft fingers, almost feeling his touch on her skin.
"You are dreaming, daughter," Rose's father stated when he walked in the kitchen where she sat. Two empty cups in his hands and filled them with tea again, steam hanging over the warm drink.
"Get some sleep, you need to be fresh for your work tomorrow."
Rose smiled at her father, who took away her plate and threw the food in the bind, so that his daughter wouldn't eat too much. He placed the dirty plate with the other dishes and allowed her to leave. She ran up the stairs and walked to her own bedroom.
When she entered the room, she saw her white nightgown resting on the bed. The dress was freshly washed, smelling like it was new. The ribbons that went with the clothes already tied around its waist.
Rose stripped down from her work clothes and took the white nightgown in her hands, putting it on. The soft fabric falling over her skin, comfortably hugging her upper body and hanging loose over her legs.
She picked her hairbrush up and started brushing her long brown hairs. The brush going through them, having no trouble to break down the knots. It took out a bit of the dirt left in the hair, but Rose knew that she soon had to wash her hairs again.
She sighed from exhaustion and walked to her bed, lifting the thick blanket and laid herself underneath them, holding a bit of blanket in her hands, clutching them tightly against her chest. She closed her eyes and tried her best to fall asleep as fast as she could, but the night didn't fall on her. She couldn't find sleep, she couldn't rest and get her energy back. She was going to feel like this for longer than she wants, she'll stay exhausted, her sleeping problem stopping her from feeling better.
