ROSES ARE RED • J.Volturi (GxG)

INTRO

PROLOGUE

"And for Melania Rose Walker," the Priest solemnly spoke, "Mr & Mrs Walker's only child, a poem from Mary Frye."

"Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn's rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush,
of quiet birds in circles flight.
I am the soft stars, that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die."

Eyes downcast, Melania sniffled, as tears rolled down her face, and she choked back sobs.

In her hands, she held a hand-picked rose, as if her life depended on it, as if it too, was going to disappear.

Everything blurred into one, as time got the best of her, and before she knew it, soon the funeral had come to a close.

On the joint grave, atop of the newly placed dirt, and the caskets that lay beneath, Melania found herself place the rose.

With a sigh, she wiped away her tears, as she knew her parents would have wanted her to be happy, even after they had died.

That what her parent's favourite flower represented: love.

******

"Melania Rose!" Her mother exclaimed in delight, "Oh it's beautiful!"

Melania knew what she was on about, she too had seen as the rose bush mysteriously appeared in the garden that they owned.

Known to be quite the gardener, taking after her father, it was only reasonable that her mother automatically believed her to be the one to have put it there.

And yet, she had no recollection of ever doing so.

Melania so wanted to tell her mother the truth, that she was not the one that had put it there, but upon seeing her mother's face, full of glee, Melania decided against it.

Instead, she chose to nod and smile, her mother's happiness making her too, happy.

It was at that point that her father chose to walk in, a flower magazine in hand, glasses on the tip of his nose.

He plopped on the sofa, rather ungracefully, and chuckled.

"I swear she loves roses, more than she does me."

Head popped in the doorway, Melania watched as her mother laughed, and presented one of the roses she had found to her father.

"Well it is prettier than you."

An expression of mock hurt on his face, her father gasped rather dramatically, a hand slapped on his chest.

"You wound me, my dear."

With a peck on her father's lips, and a ruffle of Melania's hair, her mother placed the rose on her desk, before she perched on the chair beside her.

"But I think I love you more."

******

The memory was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder.

As she lifted her tear-stained face to look over her shoulder, the person pulled her into a hug.

After a moment of silence, abs a Melania crying for the nth time, she lifted her head to see her best friend since forever, standing before her. Janet.

This surprised Melania, since the last time she saw her, she was getting an apartment in Seattle, 170 miles away.

"Hey," she said softly, "how're you coping?"

Melania began to cry again, because in all honesty m, she wasn't doing very well.

"Everything reminds me of them."

Janet looked down in Melania, and smiled a bit.
"You're free to stay at mine, if you'd like."

Melania for the first time since she'd been told the news of her parent's death smiled.

She was definitely going to take up Janet's offer.

She was moving to Seattle.