Glass Rose

Chapter 2 Part 2

                                       Ashely's POV

    I felt the car slowing down as we approached a small flower vendor. "Why are we stopping?" I asked looking over at Mark, his face still stoic. "Just need to do something real quick." He said his voice showing no emotion. I watched from the car as he purchased a bundle of violets, lilacs, and a single white rose for the center piece. "I'm gonna be out for a while, I'll drop her off at the house," I heard Mark saying on the phone. "Nah man it'll be fine besides my sister is just around the block I can crash there." "Is that Alex?" I asked as mark climbed in. "Yeah wanna talk to him?" He said holding the phone out. "Hey bro," I said as I took the phone. "What's up?" "Hey Ash listen could I ask you a favor?" Alex immediately. I rolled my eyes hearing my brothers girlfriend talking in the background. "One sec," I said lowering the phone from my ear and covering the receiver. "Would you mind if I hang with you my brother has company?" I asked Mark mouthing 'I hate her'. Mark simply chuckled and nodded his answer. It seemed as though he wasn't the biggest fan of her either. "House is all yours just don't let her touch my stuff or both of you are dead." I said noticing Mark bite back a laughing fit. "I take it that I'm not the only person who wishes he'd see how toxic she is for him." Mark said drying his eyes from the tears that started to form. "I absolutely hate her not just for how toxic she is but, because of the fact that my brother is too dumb to realize that she's been sleeping with half of the school." I said feeling my anger rise. 'I need to calm down before I blow.' I thought to myself. "Well hope you don't mind my company for a while longer." I said breathing as slowly as i could feeling a small wave of calm enveloping me. "Not at all though, I will say our trip won't be very exciting." He said starting the car

Mark wasn't wrong about the excitement of the trip. We drove for what felt like hours to arrive at a cemetery. 'Well that explains the flowers.' I thought to myself as we walked passed countless rows of graves, some so old the names have faded with time to some newer looking ones, until we reached the one grave Mark had been walking to.
Here lies Melia
Mark knelt down, brushed some dirt and debris from the head stone revealing a crude etching in the stone. Love is like a glass rose. "Sorry I almost forgot to visit Mel," Mark said as he arranged the flowers he bought around the grave. "But i got your reminder. Just wish it was about a happier time." I stepped away feeling awkward listening to something that seemed to be private. Looking around I could see why this would be a great final resting place, it was quiet, peaceful even. It had been almost two hours since we arrived at the grave site, I had sat down in the dirt and started to sketch. At first I drew the environment, then I started to doodle when I got the inspiration I was looking for. Mark had stood up and was still staring down at the grave not speaking just quietly remembering. He had a very melancholic look to him and before I realized it I was already sketching. "What are you drawing?" I heard jumping from the sudden break in silence. Looking up I saw Mark staring down at me his eyes filled with a sadness that seemed to have no end."Just some sketches and doodles." I answered standing and brushing the seat of my pants free of the grass and dirt that clung to it. Mark simply nodded before stepping past me heading towards the car. "Come on my sister doesn't live to far from here." He called back to me before getting in the car. 'What happened to cause that much sadness?' I asked myself before jogging over when i heard the car start.

"So what's your sister like?" I asked as we drove down street after street. "She's nice, a little over zealous sometimes." Mark said as we pulled up to a stop light, That's when I noticed the scars on his hand as he tapped his thumb on the wheel. "What happened?" I asked before I even registered the question. "Hmm." "Your hand." I pointed internally hoping I wasn't asking about a touchy subject. His face said it all as I saw his expression change from a stoic one to a brief flair of that deep sadness I saw in his eyes. "An accident." He said tightening his grip on the wheel before pulling away from the light. As we arrived at his sisters house I silently watched him as the once stoic face changed to one of sheer anger. "Stay here." He said climbing out of the car and walking to the open door. That is when Mark was wrong about his earlier statement about no excitement.