Yellow Roses

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
"It was midnight, but the people in the small village of Dreywood were wide awake. The lights in every house were flared into life. The night was filled with the sound of sirens bustling on the road as they speed up to their cause. However, in the far end of the village, there was a house that looked completely undisturbed by the panic that surrounds the place. "

Submitted: November 01, 2013

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Submitted: November 01, 2013

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It was midnight, but the people in the small village of Dreywood were wide awake. The lights in every house were flared into life. The night was filled with the sound of sirens bustling on the road as they speed up to their cause. However, in the far end of the village, there was a house that looked completely undisturbed by the panic that surrounds the place. The curtains were drawn and no lights were visible to indicate that someone’s awake or if anybody was in there.

Inside the house, a lady was crouching at the far end of the bedroom dressed in a tattered nightgown while a man was lying down on a large four poster bed seemed asleep, his eyes were closed and his mouth slightly open.

The lady bit her lower lip and glanced at the closed window. “I cannot understand why you are capable of sleep John,” she said in a hoarse voice. “You said that we are going to think things through together.” She gazed at the sleeping figure on the bed. “Are you listening to me? Doris will be here in the morning to ask for your debt.” She shook her head and sighed wearily. “Honestly, why do you have to borrow some money at that old witch?”

The lady slumped on the floor and rested her head between her knees. “Please John, don’t ignore me. You are giving me a headache.”

Suddenly, there was a scratching sound below the bed followed by a wail. The lady looked up and found a large pair of luminous yellow eyes staring warily at her.

“Winky,” she smiled, “there you are. Come here little kitty.” She patted her lap. Winky wailed again and approached the lady slowly, and circled her before settling down on her lap. “Hush. You’ll wake John.”

They were both silent for a few minutes listening to the muffled wail of the sirens outside. The lady inhaled slowly ignoring the odd scent in her bedroom and turned at the cat. “John really messed up today, Winky.” She whispered, and the cat meowed. “He owed a large debt to that old witch, Doris. We quarrelled.” She sighed wearily, and let Winky clambered down of her lap and crouched beside her, yellow eyes alert. “I thought that I’ll never forgive him, but he bought me flowers. Yellow roses.” She smiled as the thought of John coming home with roses in his hands. “Such a lovely color, but the roses didn’t make their way to the vase, they slipped and crashed. Such a beautiful and fragile thing like humans, so easily destroyed.”

Winky meowed softly, a quiet cry, before she closed her eyes. The lady stood up and walked towards the bed staring down at the figure of her husband. She sighed and drawn the covers to his body, and sat down slowly at the edge of the bed careful not to disturb him. “I’m not going to sleep. I don’t want to be bother by the nightmares which half of it was your fault.”

The lady stood up again and walked towards the window; she pushed the curtains aside and was overwhelmed by the bright light that greeted her. She cried in delight making the cat leaped in surprise and scurried under the bed.

“So beautiful,” she giggled, clapping her hands. She turned to her husband and frowned at him. “John, wake up! I want you to see this.” Without waiting for a response she turned her head at the light again. “See that glint of light over there John?” she pointed at the sunrise, and shuddered. The cold room was beginning to warm up. “The light simply means that there’s some hope for us. And as long as it keeps on burning up, we might as well not only contain it, but use it.” She sharply pulled the curtains back blocking the sunlight.

The lady walked towards the bed and sat down beside her husband again. She looked at her hands, scarred and dirty. She touched her husband’s cheek, cold as ice underneath her palm.

“You’re cold,” she muttered, “Just like your heart.”

The sound of sirens wailed even more loudly. Suddenly, the door burst open and men dressed in red poured into the room. They began to move towards John checking his pulse, and lift him up and placed him on a stretcher. The lady watched them stoically as they moved him out of the room, some of them asked her what had happened but she remained silent. She turned away from them and stared at the dried blood on the pillow where John’s head was resting earlier.

“Oh dear God, Elizabeth!” a shrieked filled the room.

Elizabeth looked up and stared at the woman standing on the door clutching her chest, her face pale and terrified. “The neighbours reported that there was a commotion in your house! Wha-wha-what happened? Why’s your husband dead?”

Elizabeth’s vision suddenly began to blur, she turned at the red men but she couldn’t read their expressions. She closed her eyes and winced as flashes of images run inside her head and when she opened her eyes again, reality hit her like a heavy punch in the stomach leaving her utterly breathless.

The woman on the doorway began to advance warily towards her. “Izzy, dear? Let your sister help you.”

Elizabeth began to sob uncontrollably; she grabbed a pillow and threw it towards her sister. “Oh Lily, why do you always have to ruin everything?” she wailed loudly, like the cat, Winky, did. 


© Copyright 2017 elwyn. All rights reserved.

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