The Rose That Never Withered (Wattys 2017)

Prologue

The man sat nervously on an old, wooden chair, running his hand every other minute through his ashen, brown locks. He rubbed his hands together as he waited.

Waited for either the best or worst decision he was ever going to make in his entire life.

It was nearing night time but the moon had already appeared at the dark skies only moments ago, casting a faint glow pass his tainted glass windows. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, a sign of his indecision on the matter.

Unable to handle his uneasiness, he stood up and went beside the little, wooden crib. He doubted whether to look or not. The tiny bundle moved, and a soft whimper followed.

The man quickly averted his gaze, a frown grazing his features. "Forgive me...." he grunted.

Finally, a knock had broken the silence. The man hurriedly went to open it, but hesitated, before shaking his head and unlocking it.

A man dressed as black as night stood there.

He met the man's dark gaze but was unable to hold it for very long. He averted his sight back to the crib. It had stopped moving.

"Where is she?" the man at the door said, snapping him out of his thoughts. His doubts.

He just looked back to the wooden apparatus and muttered a "Come in".

The dark man understood and followed inside.

They shared formalities and conditions, and soon it was late into the night.

It was time to leave.

The dark man handed him a fairly heavy pouch, no doubt the payment was inside. He opened it and was satisfied with the content.

"Remember the agreement" the dark man muttered.

He just stared motionless, until he finally caught on and went towards the infant.

His flesh and blood.

He took it into his arms, the bundle's soft whimpers of joy slowly breaking his already shattered heart. He was so conflicted, so confused.

But he knew what must be done.

His footsteps were like lead as it anchored him with each step nearing the hooded man at the arch of the entrance of his abode. He was going to lose a part of him, he thought.

"I will" the man answered, before stealing one last look at the angel in his arms, and giving it's tiny hands the last gentle squeeze he could. He held his breath as the angel grabbed his thumb with it's tiny little fingers and smiled. He had reached the dark man, a less than a meter distance separating them.

"Good" the dark man muttered "Now, hand her over"

The dark man was greeted with silence, until the man slowly pried the angel's tiny fingers off his own, and handed the package almost hurriedly over to the awaiting receiver.

The dark man smiled triumphantly, and turned to walk away. But not before the man had said "Take good care of her" the man faintly muttered.

The dark man stopped mid in his tracks and said "I'll give her the world", before a coach had appeared almost instantly and swept the man, and tiny angel, away from the scene.

Away from his life.

It was not before the coach was clear out of view that the man broke down on the floor, and began to weep, louder than the infant he once carried ever did.

And to think, all of this, just for a few pieces of gold.