Her Black Rose

By Jessie

Everything was hazy and white. It surrounded him, crushed him with it’s fiery. How the world hated him. It can't wait to squeeze him until he cried out in pain. Until he begged to die.

He was just a worthless soul waiting in line to die.

Unfortunately, he was the first in line.

The hospital room gave an eerie glow. His once strong body was now holding his last strength. His weak hands gripped the thin, white, hospital sheet. His mind, oh it was a twisted world. Everything was tangled up or screaming bloody murder at him.

He was stuck in this white world, had been in here since what seemed like forever. The dark and vast hallways always gave everybody a shiver up their spine, and a feeling of the dead.

Another wave of pain washed over him. It spread like the many times, multiplying like a disease, a virus. And it got worse. Every time it would feel like a hot iron stinging him, for the longest time. Whenever he took another breath, or his heart beat again, it would be there. Waiting for him.

Then it would take him hostage, giving him yet another mind twisting torture.

He waited for the pain to pass. He had gotten pretty use to this.

Everything stayed silent. Not a noise though out the night.

Then she appeared.

He was barely conscious, but he could make her out.

She was standing in the doorway, a very sad face looking at him. Her eyes, they were bloodshot and boring into his.

He managed to recognize her. A miracle in his critical condition.

She was here to visit him again. Here to cry like the many times she had cried over him. The girl was once so innocent and carefree. But he had taken that away.

Why couldn’t he make her happy for once? She deserved there. She deserved a lot more than that.

But he could not do that. All he could do was give pain and sorrow. How was he suppose to make her happy?

And yet he loved her. He was a fool to have never told her that. Death was gripping him in its palm and he still couldn’t say he loved her.

But she loved him. She had said that, many times.

As the girl watched him, she felt her eyes water up.How could this happen? He was supposed to be with her, live with her. They were supposed to grow old together, enjoy life together.

But here he was, slipping away from her.

Fate had been cruel to her. Her happiness and love was always ripped out of her and taken away. Her only love was leaving her, for good.

Oh god. Why did this have to happen? He deserved a life. He deserves peace. He is the one who made this world happy for them all, so why was he the one to get the worst? She wanted him to be happy. She wanted to be happy.

He was so thin, just skin and bone. He looked to pale and fragile lying there, an inch away from death. His beautiful Prussian blue eyes were now hollow, they had lost everything. They scared her. Haunted her.

She walked slowly and carefully to his bed. Pulled cheap, plastic chair from the corner up to it and sat down.

There she stared at him, wanting to get a good look at him before she couldn’t. As she did that she begun to cry.

The tears of life fell from her eyes. She thought she could cry no more, all her tear pockets empty. Hadn’t she cried enough? And yet they came. They soaked the hospital sheets, left stains on her cheeks. 

Her soul was leaving her with every tear. More and more of her sorrow took over. She was not the innocent and happy child she once were, she was a living zombie, constantly crying and in depression.

The sound of her sobs and the feel of her sadness echoed in the halls. All the patients could feel this young women’s pain.

“I’m sorry…” she managed to choke out. And she was sorry. Truly, deeply sorry. Sorry for everything. Sorry that he couldn’t have the life that he deserves. Sorry that he had to suffer this.

“Don’t be. I deserve this,” said the weak voice with more emotion than he had ever shown.

“No you don’t. You should have a wonderful life. I wish that God would take mine instead.”

The near death figure smiled, finding it funny how she could say such silly things.

Another wave off pain hit him. Hit him hard. This one was worse than ever.

He started seeing red, blood red. Then a wave of dizziness splashed over.

He felt himself shake, tremble, from head to toe. The hand that was holding the sheet lost its grip.

She saw this. She felt the bed shake.

The time has come.

He would be taken away.

Here.

Now.

She leaped from the chair. It turned upside down on the hard tiled floor with a crash.

She put her arms around him. Trying to keep him with her, close to her. Trying to keep him alive.

He felt her hug him. A tight loving hug. Then he felt wetness on his chest. Her tears.

He hated to see her cry.

He could barely breath now. And ever breath hurt so much. But the tears hurt him more.

“Don’t cry.” With the last of his strength, he wiped a single tear from her cheek.

And there, in her loving arms, is where he took his last breath.

He died thinking of her. He died loving her.

She felt his body go limp in her arms.

She felt his life whoosh away.

She felt him die.

The sorrow and pain washed over her. He was dead. Here, in her arms.

The tears washed out more. Enough to flood a river.

Oh the pain.

It was like a knife stabbing her again and again. Breaking her heart into a million pieces.

The torture.

But she was glad he was put out of his misery. He was in so much pain in the end.

He deserved in peace.

And she wished she had that peace too.

She didn’t want to deal with this. Didn’t want to see and feel him die.

She cried into his dead chest throughout the night. Letting the pain and sorrow all out.

The pain of this would tear everyone apart.

Especially her.

The priest gave words of comfort to everyone he could. But they were no help.Her friends and family gave her love and support. But they were no help either.

She didn’t care.

She didn’t care about anything anymore. He was gone, he had left her.

And she still didn’t know if he loved her.

She would like to believe he did, but she would be lying to herself. That might have been the truth, she would never know.

She watched as they bury his coffin into the fresh ground.

She stayed the hours that it took.

And she stayed hours after that.

She stood staring at the gravestone. Not moving. Not speaking.

She thought about him. The images filled her mind.

It was evening. It was time to go. Time to leave.

She didn’t care about how late it was. She wanted to stay.

She did not want to cry.

But she did. She did cry.

The beautiful glimmering tears fell on the fresh grave.

She came back for weeks in a row. Each time more tears would fall on the grave.

And after a while, a rose grew in the middle. A black rose.

It stood out in the graveyard. The only grave with a black rose on it.

The fruit of her tears. The symbol of her pain.

Her black Rose.

THE END

Rose: I hope you don’t mind me using your name.

Um… how was it? Total angst, I know. 

If you hadn't figure it out by now, the girl is Relena and the boy is Heero.

Review and email me!