The Story of Maggie Rose

Chapter One: One Rainy Day

Water surrounded me and washed my skin lightly. My suit was soaked from the mist and my brown hair stuck to my forehead, neck, and ears but I didn't care.

I stared at the tombstone, reading it over and over again, my mind not processing the words inscribed on it. I felt cold.

The rain stopped hitting me for a moment. I saw movement from the corner of my eye and turned, seeing the grandmother of the girl forever sleeping. She held out a handle to an umbrella that she had put over my head, and as I took it, she smiled sadly and walked off to her husband, the grandfather. They both took a last look at me, and walked away to finally leave. They were the last of the group to do so.

The first to leave was her father, along with a surprisingly crying mother. Never once had I heard from her of her parents caring for her, and here her mother was crying. Her father, on the other hand, looked downright bored, taking the first opportunity to leave.

Half an hour after they left, the rest of the eighteen people started to file out, slowly the crowd of black dispersed, leaving the grandparents I was too lost to notice, and myself.

I turned back to the tombstone and read the words again.

Margaret Rose Camberson

A rose in a world

of daisies

1999 - 2016

My body realized before my mind, as I finally crashed to my knees in the hard gravel and cried, clutching the umbrella handle tightly. It tilted forwards slightly and allowed my lower back to get stained with rain.

I started to think of the memories I had with her; where we first met, how easily we became friends, how she would follow me, how I would listen to her tell crazy tales I never believed were true. I thought of her smile, that warm, comforting and rare smile you can't see on everyone. I thought how that smile became a sad memory, not a reminder I'll see her again but a reminder of how she's gone. I thought of her songs, how she would sing and how her tunes became lost in the winds of the past.

I kept crying, sobbing until I couldn't shed any more tears.

The rain stopped shortly after, the sun barely peeking from the clouds. The drops on the trees and bushes and rocks glistened. The drops falling slowly down the rounded cement tombstone.

I sat on my feet, finally composing myself, blankly staring at the words in front of me. The umbrella was now tossed aside, inches from my knee, still open and blocking the forest view that surrounded me.

I scanned around me. No one was here, not a soul. The forests were bare of animals and the streets to my left were empty. I brought my eyes back to her name. Margaret Rose. Maggie Rose. She loved that nickname. Everyone else called her Rita. I called her Maggie Rose and she adored it. I could still hear her kid self. "I'm Margaret Rose. Everyone calls me Rita though."

"Rita? Hm. Margaret Rose, huh?" I had stopped to think briefly. "How about Maggie? Oh, Maggie Rose!"

Her eyes widened and the smile she wore would never leave my mind. She wore that smile proud, squealing her love for the nickname and throwing her arms around my neck. We both laughed after that, neither of us letting go.

I smiled solemnly at the memory. That was eleven years ago.

I started to think of more and more memories, reliving them all like they were happening now. Going through them I decided. I would try to put the puzzle pieces together, I would try to understand.

Maybe I couldn't, I simply just can't since it wasn't me making the decisions she did. But maybe, just maybe, if I look over it all, I can find simple reasons to answer why.

Why.

Every person asks themselves this question when something tragic happens in their life. Everyone questions it and tries to find an answer. Some find it, others look for years, coming up with nothing. They need to feel satisfied, completed almost with an answer.

Maybe that's what this is. But maybe I want to understand her pain, what she went through for this to happen. If I don't find the exact reason, or all the ones that make up the whole, I'll find enough to understand at least a fraction, right?

Maybe you can help. Help me understand, help yourself understand why this glimmering flower wilted. Maybe we can help each other.

Maybe.

Let's start off with this: my name is Daniel Rogers.

I'm going to tell you the story of Maggie Rose.