tainted - short story

memories

I strolled to the end of the gigantic hall, my hand resting on the throne made of what appeared to be red glass. There was a fog in my mind, something I was trying to remember, maybe linked to this blood coloured seat? I shook my head and continued around the room, all the tables and other furniture was the same material as the throne. Every time i touched the furniture it was as if I had hit my head on a ceiling made of clouds, as if it was possible to push my head through and see what I was trying to remember.

I noted a vase sat on a pillar of ruby, that was it - the "red glass" must be ruby, that wasn't red but silver. I jogged towards it hoping it would trigger more memories, and as I placed my hands on the cool surface the colour rubbed away, leaving only ruby.

"I want a different colour here, other than that tedious red..."

The memory was short, but it was something. At that point I noticed there were no flowers in the vase, in my memory there may have been... I couldn't be sure. With great care I turned the vase upside down, there was something inscribed on the bottom of it. I couldn't make it out in the silver and as i traced my finger over the cursive letters, one sharp edge broke the skin. I yelped and almost dropped the vase before realising that some blood had filled the carved letters:

For my Rose, for her roses.

I dropped the vase to the floor, sudden memories rushing back, a woman telling me to stop trying to change her, a man falling to the ground. I stumbled away from the fallen vase gripping my head tightly, making my way to the huge throne.

I sat for a while collecting my thoughts, another came back clearly:

"It's your fault he's gone, you made him!"

It was that woman screaming again, I could hear somebody playing the piano behind it. As I took my hand away from my eyes I saw the roses, wilted and dying, on the other side of the room.

I looked to the ceiling and saw what I had done, everyone I had cared about hanging dead in ruby cages. Sealed with roses made of rubies again. I looked to my hands again, one soft and pale, the other darkened by dirt and bloodied by the cut on my finger. I took the crown from my head and tossed it aside,

it was tainted with memories and stained by their  blood.