June 5, xx04: Rose, age six
The wind blew refreshing through the field of flowers. The sun's rays were warm and comforting, brightening up the beautifully clear sky. Not a puff of cloud to shield their pale skin. The spring days were spent in the field of flowers, Rose and her mother.
"Rose, look how pretty this flower is," The lady plucked a flower from the ground. She held it up to her daughter's eyes, examining it herself, "Isn't its pattern intriguing?"
"Mommy, it's the same color as all the other ones. What's so special about it?" Rose asked, frowning at the black-speckled petals.
"Why, there's a lot of special things about it. This one has spots, whereas this one," Her mother pointed to another flower, "is plain. And look at its shape, this one has open petals. Some are more compact and closed."
Rose studied hardly the flower again, taking notice of the comparisons her mother made. "It's still the same color as all the other flowers."
"That's where you're wrong. It's actually a vibrant pink. You're still young and can't see colors." Her mother said as she closed her eyes and enjoyed the spring breeze.
"What do you mean? What is pink?"
Her mother smiled, shaking her head and ruffling Rose's hair. "You'll learn more about it when you're older."
Rose pouted, crossing her arms as they continued to pick flowers. What did she mean? There aren't any other colors than black, white, and grey. She thought.
November 24, xx06: Rose, age eight
"Grandma?" Rose asked, swinging her legs back and forth. She was sitting at the kitchen table watching her grandmother bake a cake.
"Yes, Rose?" She didn't look up, instead, her hands delicately poured the filling onto the pan.
"Can you see colors?" Rose pushed her hair out of her face, moving her tongue around her teeth.
"Of course, everyone can see colors. You see black and white, just like I do."
"No, I mean colors like mom and dad can see. Like pink."
Her grandmother froze. A few moments of complete silence passed until she set the bowl that originally had the batter in down.
"I could see those colors, but not anymore."
"How come?"
"My soulmate is... dead." A tear escaped her eyes. She was crying.
"What's a soulmate?" Rose asked innocently, not aware of her grandmother's sadness
"Let's not talk about it right now. I'm going to the bathroom," She excused herself, leaving Rose alone in the grey blurb of a kitchen.
March 16, xx09: Rose, age eleven
The sky was grey, but not a light grey like it usually was. It was dark and ominous. Rain poured down on them, splashing into puddles. Everyone was wearing black, no one spoke a word. Rose wasn't paying much attention though, drowning in her tears.
If only she paid attention before crossing the street, Rose's mother would have been alive. If only she ran at the right time, Rose wouldn't be sitting in a wheelchair, paralyzed from the waist down. If only... Those must be the two saddest words in the world.
Rose watched as everyone's heads were down. Maybe it was them showing respect or maybe they were too afraid to look at what was coming. The coffin was pulled from the hearse by six strong men, but its weight could never match the heaviness of Rose's heart as she sat in her wheelchair out in the rain.
She held her father's arm the whole time, seeking comfort. Although the latest needed it himself, much more. She tried her best to keep it together until they passed a picture of her mom to everyone, and that's when all the memories came flooding back like a tidal wave.
Her face seemed so alive and happy and Rose couldn't help but wonder what she looked like under that closed wooden box. She stared blankly at it hoping that a miracle would happen, that her mother would rise again and come back to the world, come back to them. But nothing happened. She was gone.
It's crazy how things can change this fast. You see the person every day and suddenly, they're gone and when they go, a part of you goes with them too.
The tears flowed as she watched her mother's casket lowering to the ground. Once it was settled in, relatives started dropping flowers in the hole. Sniffling, Rose studied the flower she chose. Open petals with spots.
"Dad," she held the flower up to him. "Is this flower pink?" The words hardly left her mouth while he swallowed down a shaky breath. His world had turned black and white the second his soulmate breathed her last breath, and that was reason enough, for him, to end his life too, leaving Rose alone and heartbroken.
September 3, xx16: Rose, age eighteen
Her pencil tapped against her notebook paper. She stared out of the window into the grey sky.
When will it ever turn blue?
"One day, you'll find him."
Her grandmother always said in a reassuring voice, smiling as she, herself, would recall the first time colors filled her world when she met Rose's grandfather.
A sigh escaped Rose's lips as she pushed her wheelchair toward the window and opened it, the fresh air making her shiver slightly.
Crossing her arms, she asked, "How do you know that, grandma? What if I die in a colorless world because I could never find him?"
She remembered hearing some people talk about a woman who had lived her whole life in black and white – from her first second to her last. The thought brought a pang in her chest, only drawing her into a spiral of disbelief at the idea of love.
Her grandmother stood up, whispering words that Rose would never forget, "The heart knows when the search is over."
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✓ IF YOU STAY | HEESEUNG
Fanfiction❝People come and go, but can't you be the one who stays?❞
