Secrets • Jughead Jones [1]

|Roses|

*In the perspective of Aria*

Roses

I love roses
They are. Beautiful and enchanting. They have thorns that protect themselves, unique petals and bright, bold colours.

Although I don't just love roses because they are pretty flowers. They mean something to me. I had someone close to me. We were the best of friends. But I lost her like I lost my brother. Like I'm losing everyone.

It was when I was about 5 years old Rose and I (Rose was her name) would do everything together. We would go to school, play after school, sleepover at each others houses. You get the idea.

For my birthday she would always get me a huge bunch of cherry roses.

Our friendship lasted for years until we were 14 years old. Something unspeakable happened.

She was at her house, in her bedroom, on a FaceTime call to me. It was also near my birthday so she had a bouquet of roses next to her laptop, waiting for me.

Suddenly we both heard screaming and then someone yelling. She quickly ran outside her room to see what was happening.

As soon as she ran back into the room, her face had no emotion. None at all. It's when she whispered,
"Someone's in the house."

I quickly whispered back,
"I'm calling the police and coming over."
Grabbed my coat and dashed out the house.

It was only a short distance to her house. As I got there I heard a piercing silence and barged into the house.

"Rose?!" I yelled.
"ROSE!?"

I ran up to her room to see a note left next to the bouquet.
It read,

To Aria,
I'm sorry about what happened. My family and I had to runaway. Someone was trying to find us. Not for a good reason either, I have no clue why. You probably won't see me again, I'm really sorry again. Thank you for being the best you can be. Happy Early Birthday.

Lots of love,
Rose
xxx

I grabbed the note and tears began to fall down my face. The Police came shortly after.

That's why I love roses, to remember her everyday. Kind of like she's still here, with me.

My mother came to pick me up and was the only one to help me get through this. My dad though, I don't even call him that, Clifford. He didn't speak a word, he didn't look at me, talk to me or be anywhere near me. That's when I knew he was no father of mine.