Roses Are Dead

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The Roses. They blacken and wither away on the bed. Beside her. Beside Violet. Her body lays still in the cold bland room. Waiting to be found. Waiting to be discovered by someone who has enough love to actually take time and look. Her body stayed still. Stiff. Unable to move without the assistance of a soul. Unable to tell her story to those who mourn and ponder. Unable to say "I love you" to the ones she loved. To the ones she lost. No one knows what happened to Violet. No one knows who sent the roses. All they had was a little card with two words faintly written on it.

"Im sorry."

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