She was tall very tall with jet black hair and translucent skin; she was in that beautiful place which is known as the spring of life. She was known for her musical laughter and her happy charm. Yet the colors of her life seemed to be constantly dimming. She sat in the dark corner of a dusty abandoned room, the cold tiles chilling her to the bone but she didn’t seem to mind or notice. Her mind was in a pensive state and all she seemed able to focus on were the many clouds shadowing her horizon. Fragments of long ago conversations buzzed in her ears, laughter, tears, arguments and discussions all mingled together in one big confusing jumble. She dug the heals of her hand into her eyes, trying to make sense of it all, why was this happening? What was she supposed to do to make it stop? She had always thought that if she was true to herself and gave all that she could with all the honesty she could she would be happy. How should she change? She needed an answer. As she sat there thoughts hammering her head and her heart heavy with the desire for peace she glimpsed a fragile white rose bud fighting its way through a crack in the filthy window, she brushed the velvety petals with her fingers and to her amazement
the rose grew with her touch, it pushed farther through the window, its folded petals unfurling, she kept stroking the rose tenderly encouraging it with her gentle caress, as the rose grew it started developing a faint pink blush. The rose grew stronger and its color deepened till it started moving on its own, yet she still sat on the cold hard floor caressing it, finding joy in its strength and delighting at its changing color, she continued her gentle patting till the rose was as big as the moon and had the color of the deepest ruby. But the rose wanted more. It wanted something it couldn’t define. All it knew was that it wanted more of the gentle touch. But the girl was exhausted. The rose didn’t seem to comprehend this fact, it wrapped its thick vine around her pinning the girls arms to her sides, the rose was confused it didn’t know how to reach its goal but it had to get more, always more. The rhythm of the girls beating hear allured the rose. It rubbed its petals against the flesh that shielded her beating heart but the rose wanted more. With out grasping the magnitude of its actions the rose pierced the girls flesh and wrapped itself around her beating heart, it felt happy as it was bathed in her warm blood. As she sat her chest ripped open a gapping hole were her heart once was, dieing alone in the dark damp room she touched the rose once more “take all of me but never stop growing my beauty”