12 Roses

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
this is a story about a girl who's one true love" as gone out to war unannounced. she is devastated by his leaving but showed more anger then anything. She became mute and didn't know how to deal with the sudden change in her life. He gave her 12 roses when he left. 12 real and one fake. Later he sends her an email and then all hr emotions come back.

Submitted: August 17, 2010

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 17, 2010



12 Roses
By Paula Black

ticking clock. My eyes never wandered. They always kept focus on the bouquet of beautiful red roses sitting gracefully on the
lamp table. 12 flawless flowers, in perfect condition. It was like a broken record, a scratched CD.

“How are you feeling?” My mother’s voice echoed through my soundless ears. I heard her, but never answered. My lips never
moved, not even a twitch.
“12 Roses”. Andrew had said, right before our departure. “11 real, 1 fake”. I didn’t think much of it at the moment he had said
it, or a couple days after. They were pointless. Simple. Rage over powered me that day. I didn’t want him to leave, no one ever
does. It was heartbreaking. Damaging to me internally. I listened to his footstep, as they lead him out my front door. Ii heard
the door slam behind him. Too many flaws followed him out of my house. It felt so wrong, but regardless, I couldn’t do anything.
I took in the biggest breathe I would ever inhale, and twisted my body backwards. I watched Andrew, as his footsteps; once
again, lead him farther and farther away from me. He walked down the walkway. No Expression. No Emotion. I thought more
onto his last words. “12 roses, 11 real, 1 fake.” It enraged me. He picked a couple of pathetic words as his last words to me. The
more I thought about those words, the more useless they became in my mind. I kept rocking in my chair. Hoping. Dreaming.
Foreseeing the day of Andrew’s return. My mother brought me food, which I rejected. Each time she brought it, I had no
appetite. Never did I have one. Too much time had passed. Too many endless days. I waited for a sign; it was all I could do.
“Selene!” A voice screeched from another room. It was familiar. My younger sister raced into the room, laptop tucked neatly
under her right arm. I wasn’t interested, at first. I didn’t care for computers. I didn’t want to be a part of the world. The screen
was opened up to an e-mail.

“I will love you until the last one dies” The words settled for a bit. My mind was swimming in blinded knowledge. I took awhile,
but then I started to put the pieces together. My eyes tore from the laptop screen and attached themselves on to the 12 red
roses. 1 fake… CLICK!
12 roses, 11 real, 1 fake. I will love you until the last one dies.
I didn’t shed one single tear when Andrew left. Although, I probably should have. I was too uptight with rage and stupidity. It
wasn’t pointless, his last words to me. They were much farther than simple. They were symbolic and precious. I held my one and
only tear in my hand, as it melted away through the lines of my fingers. It wasn’t complete unhappiness, nor was it completely
sad. My chair kept its rocking speed. It stayed constant. Blinded from everything that was happening.
“Are you okay, Selene?” My sister’s high-pitched voice was banging along inside my eardrums. Somewhere between my
eardrums and brain, however, something disconnected. I didn’t answer. I never answered. I was mute. My voice was trapped
within the walls of my discharged brain. She gave up trying. As she left, I began to ask myself the same question. ‘Am I really
okay?’ I knew the answer. There was no doubt about that. Did I accept that answer? Not at all. I refused to. I wanted
everything to be painless once again. These roses symbolized that painless world, they symbolized our unity. My legs
straightened, I stood from my chair. My chair kept rocking after I left. My rough finger tips slid across the petals of the roses.

Beautiful and fragile; like every rose was. I tried to pick one of the roses up, but it resulted in slicing my finger up with one of the
thorns. A beautiful, but deadly flower. I gave up then. I lay in bed until my eyes shut in complete darkness. I was pulled into
sleep. It only seemed like minutes, but hours had passed. I awoke with a loud cough and bounced out of bed. I ran down the
narrow staircase, almost falling face first to the bottom. Pancakes were being made right before my eyes as I tumbled into the
kitchen. “Are you eating"? My mother's voice was sweet and welcoming. I nodded. I couldn't resist some good pancakes. I
shifted my gaze towards my roses. At the last second, I somehow noticed one of the roses wilted. I gasped; hurried over to the
living room. For the longest time, I just looked at the first dead rose. Rage overwhelmed me first, but it was soon overtaken by
sadness. Once a week, after that, one of my roses died. One after one, they all turned brown. Eventually, only one stood. Tears
poured down my face each time I thought that it would eventually fall. It never did, however, only stood tall and perfect. My
tears disappeared, as I realized, this last rose would never fall. 11 real, 1 fake. For the first time in months, a smile slowly grew
upon my face. Time didn’t matter to me anymore, although I knew at least a year had gone by. I waited and waited, hardly
stepping outside the house. No school or Friends.

The doorbell rang three times in a row. I didn't feel well enough to get up. I didn't want to see anyone. Eventually, my sister
answered the door with a wild scream. I waited impatiently. I was ont he edge of my seat, egar to find out who had caused
my sister to screech so suddenly. My breathe had heavied and i could feel my skin heating up. The footsteps sounded very
familiar, but different at the same time. " Still got one rose left, eh?" MY heart stopped. It melted into the bones of my ribs. I
lifted my head slowly with a slight shake. Then i saw him. He stood right in front of me. The tears started to pour down my face
as i tried to talk. Andrew had come back, and it was all because of my faith in the 12 roses he left with me over a year ago. I
stayed the night with him that night, a night i had been longing for quite sometime. I stayed mute, being so used to it.

Everything was painless. Extraordinarily perfect.

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