The Sweetest Lie

Final petal

"Mommy. At school today I saw a biiiiig-"I emphasized throwing my arms wide as can be with a big happy goofy grin on my face."-butterfly. It landed on the rose in my hai-"I giggled As my dad scooped me up."Daddy I'm trying to have a conversation with mom."

I was 5 years old and yet again I heard the stupid song Ring around the Rosey. I never liked that song since I found out its about funerals, death and the plague. As a kid I didn't like the meanness of all the attention like, hitting me with grass and pushing my face into bushes with bee's. Bee's weren't the most amazing insects either, they always went for the rose in my head.

"Hmm. A conversation you say? Well your mother needs her rest."

"Im fine I will talk to my baby. Rose what happened next?"She smiled and held my hand while telling me how lovely I looked. We went to the rose bushes she had grown and taken care of all on her own. She was very sick and sometimes coughed up blood. She never told me what it was only told me  she was happy she had me and could live to see me smile. 

One day when I came back home she was on the kitchen floor a rose in her hand. The color of blood matched the rose so precisely that it took me a minute to notice it was there.

I wasn't very talkative and I killed every single stupid rose. It made me see the image to clearly. I had seen the roses, on her grave as if I needed any more reminders that she wasn't coming back to me. I only loved the roses because my mom had loved it on me, loved to see me with them. My older sister(she was adopted after the incident)Took care of me trying to be a mother. She never pulled it off. School was the same but I never bothered to tell anyone. There was no one I needed to talk to. No one who was alive at least. 

Two years later I got better and my dad went on a business trip. I called dad told him of the good parts of my day. Told him Juliyah got way better at cooking and I was scaring the crap outta all the boys who came around her. Well as scary as I can be without crying. Which I did that alot. I told dad I still liked flowers but roses and blood were too much for me. I was coping. I was getting better. I could smile again without holding back tears.  

The next major event in my life shattered everything else. He shattered- no I shattered the whole getting better process.

Dad called and said he wanted to surprise me. He never told me when he was coming back only that when he did he had a present for me. I watered the bushes helping the roses grow back because I knew he would really enjoy having them again. Even while he talked to me helping me get better I knew he still felt heart broken over losing the love of his life.
I heard him telling Juliyah he knew it would happen eventually but he wasnt ready for the pain it really caused him. I couldn't just sit here and think of only myself. I would smile and be happy that he was back and I would wear a pretty flower in my hair just for him. I wanted him to see that I still could smile and be happy. If I did that he would feel better. He hated seeing me cry and sad. I didn't want to worry him to death anymore.

Sadly that is exactly what I did.

During spring break a little before dinner a knock came to our door. I got it seeing as Juliyah was still cooking. A policeman asked for Juliyah I watched of course. Being the nosey little sister but to afraid to speak and ask questions on what was going on. This is all I could hear:

"This belonged to your father. He was in a car accident about 2 days ago and this is what was left of it. I thought you might want to....I was told not to but you can at least see it. It seems he was driving with this in his car and when it fell over he went to pick it up but....he lost control I guess. Due to panic. He.....wanted me to give this to....Rosey I think."

I stepped forward( I was hiding in the coat rack...I was pretty skinny) looked at the white rose and the ring around the rosey I love you mom card. Only....They were stained with scarlet blood. No longer pure. Forever damaged. No hope. It was lost forever. 

I took a shovel and dug....

I dug until my fingers were bleeding I would not cry not yet until this was done. The police officer and my sister watched me burry every rose in our back yard. I was then sent to a counselor to help me face my problems after I started screaming and having hysterics. 

The image of mom smiling calling me rose. Or of the kids who use to bully me only this time they sang it as mom was on the floor rose in her hand. And it matched with the still singing little mothers card along with the white half scarlet rose........

My fathers bloody face entered my head as roses surrounded him. The pure white slowly turned scarlet as his blood seeped onto them.

That was the day I hated roses. Forever.