random writing stuffs

roses

a single, white rose.

a young couple, hands clasped at their side, strolling down the sunny path through the elegant garden. stopping here and there to admire the gentle outward curl of a petal, or a peculiar insect. covered by the perfectly trimmed leaves of the cherry trees above them with branches that swayed in the early summer breeze, they made their way down the path. the tall hedges full of climbing ivy guided them through the garden, each path eventually leading back to the grand fountain at the center. they took in the sight; everything was in full bloom; everything was alive and well.

daily, all during the summer, their footsteps traced the same paths through the garden. maybe there was a new insect to see. maybe there were more petals that curled gracefully outward, soaking in all the lush sunlight that filtered through the pink petals overhead.

anyone walking along the soft, neat grass at any point of day for any purpose would notice the single white rose among the scarlet ocean that stuck out like a sore thumb in the otherwise perfect row of flowers.

it became rather an issue to the keepers of the garden, but the fair maiden which owned the land did not have the heart to kill it. this fair maiden, which also happens to be the one who walks the path daily in our story, was so familiar with her garden that she could walk through blindfolded, and still know where to step and turn. she was known for her roses, which were said to have the deepest, darkest scarlet red color in all the land. it had brought her great fame and prosperity. she did not care much about the wealth, but the flowers themselves, which can also be seen as a reason not to cut the white rose out of the garden.

it is at this point in the story where things start to decline; it was now later in the season, and the maiden and her soon to be husband suffered a particularly intense argument. filled with grief and sorrow, she fled out of the opulent estate and to her sanctuary, the garden.

she cast herself at the base of the large fountain to weep. dusk had seemed to fall in mere moments. odd, since it was now nearing the midst of summer, but the maiden had no thought of it big strange, as she was a tad preoccupied at the moment.

eventually, the dark settled in, and the only light came from the moon and her surrounding stars. their reflections began to twinkle in the water at which our maiden lie, and it was at this point in time she began to collect herself. she figured she had been in the garden for quite some time, but in realty, it was not half as long as she perceived.

as she was not quite ready to face her beloved yet, she decided to take a brief stroll through the garden. past the hanging pots, marigolds, petunias, and, above all, the roses.

as she approached the bush which housed the albino flower, she could not help but feel drawn to it more than ever before. she thought it was beautiful, yes, but now it was as if she saw it from a completely different point of view.

she stood in front of the white rose and thought of how beautiful it was. how elegant it must be. how rare was it for a white rose to grow in the center of nothing but red?

seeing it sparked new emotion in the maiden. suddenly, she felt resentful towards her lover. how dare he argue with her? if only she had been able to find herself a man who'd bend to her every will and go out on a whim to please her. as greed and hate filled the maiden, the seemingly innocent rose before her spread its bleached color through the vines which connected it to the scarlet flowers surrounding it.

the red roses seemed to bloom again, larger, faster, and with malicious intent. but instead of crimson, the only color was white. white petals, white thorns. white branches and leaves. it all happened so fast, the maiden had no time to run. she did not realize what was happening before it was too late. she tried to scream, but the roses seemed to have a mind of their own. they surrounded her, rapidly closing in, so close she could feel the thorns pressing against her fair skin. they grew, faster and faster, wrapping themselves around her whole body, giving her no chance of escape.

the only color she could see was white.

she stopped resisting, as she realized it was futile. she did not resist as roses started to bloom on her skin and in her hair, turning her veins into vines and her features into graceful rose petals. she, and the cluster of flowers around her began to shrink back into the deceiving shape of a rose bush. she felt the blood drain from her body, and she wondered how she wasn't dead yet. her blood seemed to be the key; as it left her, more and more roses converted back to their original scarlet red color.

now there were two white roses.
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Word count: 884

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