Rose and the Thorn (Fallen Tales series)

Chapter 69

Chapter 69
Jenson
He was a mess. It was like five years never happened.
It was only the other day, when I found him in his parents' room. Curled into a ball crying. He said the words that made my heart dropped.
"Shut the curtain," he cried, shaking.
"But Sir -."
"The only reason they were open is because of Rose. Now she's gone. I'm telling you to close them."
I did what he asked like I did five years ago. Back then I didn't know what I was getting myself into. I didn't know how much I would miss the light coming through the stain glass windows, the sun shining on the chandeliers. I didn't think I could do it again.
I found him in his parents' room often. I asked him one time and he answered, "It's one of the only rooms, that doesn't bring back memories of her."
After that I helped him back to his own room.
Curious was just as helpless. He would sulk on the lounge in the library before he retreat to Patrick's bed. Patrick had no objections.
I found myself saying, "God Rose, please come back to us," more times in a day than I can count. Only she could fix this mess. And she was nowhere to be found.



Chapter 70
Rose
"Hey Dad, it's me, Rose," I said as I sat on the green grass, like done every day since he died, a week ago.
"I've been in England, Dad," I started, "it good there. Worked really hard, saw some great scenery, met a lot of people," I paused thinking, "There was this one person that was really great. Patrick. He owned this mansion in a small village where I worked for a while. I thought he was an arrogant rich kid but I was wrong. I was so wrong," I said shaking my head, "I fell for him pretty badly and so did he. I was going to spend my life with him. And it would have been amazing -." I broke off as the lump in my throat became too much. I quickly recovered feeling like an idiot.
How is that going to help anyone? It's not.
I said good bye and ran for the road.

Leaning on the kitchen counter at my motel room, I've never felt so empty. Missing Patrick had never been so great.
I took a piece of paper and a pen and started to write.





Chapter 71
Patrick
So many voice in my head. My Father's, my Mother's, the laughing of my sisters, Rose's.
I lied in my bed, facing the plain ceiling. My head spaning. Limps aching. Nothing to fill this pounding huge hole.
Patrick
The voice change each time
Stop hurting Father told me.
We know you loved her Mother comforted.
Easter's little giggle filled my head.
I'm so sorry Rose's sweet voice
"Why, Rose?"
"Because, you're doing this wonderful thing. Planning a ball, you're trying to move forward. But I-I don't even know how to. I don't know where to start"
The conversation from the morning of the ball ran through my mind.
"I've always wanted to travel."
"Where?"
"Everywhere, Europe, Asia, Australia."
"We'll go anywhere you want to go."
"Where to first?"
"Well, we will go to Paris. Climb to the top of the Eiffel Tower. Then maybe to Egypt. See the Pyramids. Venice, ride gondola then see the leaning tower of Piza. Then go Australia see Uluru, the Great Barra Reef, climb the harbor bridge."
"That sounds amazing."
"We can go anywhere."
"We can do all those things on one condition."
"Name it."
"We come back to Pinecone Manner."
I turned wanting to forget the memory.
"You can't get me out of your mind can you," I opened my eyes to Rose's voice. She lied next to me with only my moss coloured shirt on showing of her beautiful legs.
"No matter how much you tell yourself I'm not coming back."
I turned to my other side but the image didn't go away.
"You have no idea where I am. If I'm safe, if I'm happy, if I miss you. And yet you still holding out hope."
I groaned and got out of bed. I paced up and down the room hoping the image would disappear. It didn't.
"I could have forgotten all about you."
I cupped my hands over my face, steady my breathing. I opened my eyes and the image was gone.
"Still here," I turned to see her sitting on my desk. She took a piece of paper and handed it to me.
"I wrote it for you."
The image disappeared as I recognized the messy writing.

How to describe the way I feel
So that one day the pain will somewhat heal.
But knowing that every morning I can wake up to blue
Because I also get to wake up to you.
You know me better than anyone
Because you make life so much fun.
And you know I can not rhyme
So let's leave the next poem for another time.
But I love you always
And know it's not just a faze.
Other girls will have to wait in the crew
Because I'm going to spend my life with you

Happy birthday Patrick. I know this is really bad but I thought I would have a go.

"No, Rose! Get away from the curtain now!"
"No Patrick. I'm sick of living in the dark."
"You will get used to it,"
"Not this time! You can't always get what you want!"
"Trust me, I know!"
"Am I not good enough for you!"
"What!"
"Is that why you didn't kiss me? Because I don't reach your standards!"
"God no, Rose! You mean the world to me!"
"Fine, prove it!"

I found myself chuckling at the thought of her trying to write it. I stumbled back to my bed and curled under the covers. I tucked the piece of paper under my pillow and closed my eyes knowing sleep wouldn't come.