The Blood Rose

That rose has been alive for a long time. Longer than my grandma's life. She used to take care of it. When grandma got sick the flower started to lose it's petals. Day by day the petals fell one by one.

As the last petal fell, grandma died. She told me that the rose was like her child for it was made by her own flesh and blood. I just thought she meant hard work but I thought wrong.

Yesterday, as I was sitting on the balcony and I saw my 16- year old cousin, Lilith. She was touching the dead rose's thorns and pricked her finger. The dead rose came back to life. I could not believe my eyes.

How did that happen?

"Blood, this rose thrives on blood." Lilith said calmly

"How can you be so calm, Lilith?"

"I've known about the blood rose for a long time now. I've been observing grandma."

"That thing... killed her?" I said as tears tell from my eyes

"You knew about everything and kept it from me?" I sobbed

"Yes Blair, this rose was feeding on grandma's blood and now it feeds on mine." Lilith said and smiled