Black Rose

His Rose.

It would be so easy to end this with a neat little happy ending, all tied up in a bow. Blake would be arrested, and Gwen would get therapy to recover from his abuse. Jackson would grow up a normal kid, never having to worry about whether his mum was going to hit him if he spoke out of turn. I would fix things with my parents, and they would accept my relationship with Jordan.

I would recover. I would be happy.

I wanted more than anything for that to be true. I wanted to have a happy ending.

But my story doesn't end that way.

The rescue crews came sometime later, delayed by the snow. They found me out the front of a still-burning building. I was shivering, unconscious in the snow. They drove me to the nearest hospital, which was a rural medical centre half an hour away. There, I was treated for burns, hypothermia, and weeks worth of abuse.

They told me that the first night, every so often, I would wake up and scream, yell at them to let me go.

I don't remember any of it.

The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital room, my parents sitting beside me. My mother cried when she saw me awake.

She and dad drove down the moment they could. That still shocks me somehow.

Things are different between us now. They seem softer, more caring. Or maybe that's just in comparison to Blake and Gwen.

It seemed that the first few days after I woke up, person after person wanted to see me. Doctors. Police officers. Specialists. Police officers again. Every so often the stream of people would slow and I could get some rest.

When I woke up, the stream would pick pack up again.

One time, when I woke up, the face by my bed was different. It wants my mum, or a nurse, or a doctor.

It was Jordan.

Loving, caring, kind, beautiful Jordan. I wanted to kiss her the moment I saw her face.

"Hey," she whispered, tears running down her face.

"Hey," I whispered back.

She grabbed my hand and clenched her eyes shut. "Oh god, Ophelia. I thought I lost you. I thought I would never see you again."

"I know," I muttered, barely holding in my tears. "I thought so too."

Gently, she leant down and kissed me, and her mouth tasted how it always did. I wondered then if everything was going to be okay. Then she pulled away, far too soon, and I saw a flash of something unknown in her eyes. Fear, maybe. Or pity. Or something else entirely. Whatever it was, it made me feel uneasy.

I tried to ignore it.

Jordan stayed by my side all day, except for when she had to leave for legal reasons. We didn't talk much. She tried to make conversation, but it was hard. I didn't want to talk.

She had to go home the next morning so that she could be back for school.

It hurt to see her go.

It was later that day that someone new came into my room. She was a relaxed middle-aged woman with curly red hair and brown framed glasses. She was wearing a lilac dress but holding a briefcase. I thought it was odd.

My mother greeted her, seeming to relax as they embraced, then let go. They then both turned to me.

"Ophelia, this is my old friend, Clara," Mum said.

"Nice to meet you," I said quietly.

She gave me a warm smile. "It's nice to meet you too, though I'm sorry it isn't under better circumstances. How are you feeling?"