song of the roses

chapter one

They started growing three years ago when my mom was taken from me. They were small and easily hidden, and nobody noticed, but after my dog was killed they became bigger and harder to hide. I' normally pick them out and ignore them, but now I cant pull them out without massive pain. The flowers have become a part of me. The flowers they're dark crimson roses, they mean sadness.

    I was told the flowers mean something is wrong with you that everyone has some, but me, they're everywhere. It's so hard to hide them, especially at school. Where I normally am. The school grounds hold secrets that have yet to be discovered, I just need some willing friends to come with me.

    You see that's the problem, I have no friends. The train of thought adds another bud on my wrist. I'm alone. Another. My thoughts shift to the paper I'm writing it's just a blank page I have yet to fill out. Algebra, my least favorite subject.

    My roommate storms in proclaiming she is done with this school, I laugh like I always do although this makes me sadder. Another. One has wilted, another sign of sadness. My thought goes to the birthmark on my wrist, the one my mom has. Another. I'm on the verge of tears when she breaks me from my thoughts. "And Brooke said Amy why do you hang out with her, she's a loser. And I said because she's my friend and ACTUALLY listens to me."

"I Am?"

"Yeah!"

"Oh, um thank you."

She laughs and says something. We continue like this for a while, her talking and me listening to her problem was mostly boys and her friends. I talked a little, not much, but it was peaceful, I even felt a flower or two dies.

"And I said, "I'm sooooooo much prettier than her-"

As she said that I saw a yellow hyacinth, jealousy. "oh, another one. ugh, they are so annoying. hold on." after that she gets up and goes to the restroom. I hear a drawer close and a huff, as she comes out. her shirt is the darkest purple.

"better."

I stare at her in awe. I've never seen anyone show off their flowers.

she continues to rant on some random subjects until her class starts. my classes are wed., Thurs., sat., and Monday. today is Sunday. I think of how she doesn't hide who she is.i think of her flower, they mean jealousy I think. why is she jealous of Brooke. I ponder these questions as I get ready for bed. I try and answer them as best I can and maybe just maybe I'm more normal than I thought