The following two months were filled with increasing dreams of the woman and Rosé actually felt more in pain not knowing who she was than in any moment in her recovery.
The only thing that allowed her to release her frustrations was painting. Most of the canvases were depicting surrealist images of the faceless woman and when Rosé stopped to actually look at them it just hurt her.
Right now she was doing exactly that, and reached for another canvas. Her eyes looked at the other room in the basement. The door was locked and her parents had told her she was the only one who had the key for it.
The problem was that she didn't remember where she placed them. Her parents offered to bring a locksmith to break it open for her but she vehemently denied it. She didn't want them involved and for whatever reason she didn't want them to see what was inside the room either.
Sighing she mixed the paints. She still needed to decide what she was going to do with all of these paintings. Her mother came down the stairs and asked her to come up. Pursing her lips, Rosé took off her apron and went upstairs.
A few days later, she was searching for a sketchbook in her room. There were many boxes of books but she finally found the box she was looking for. She searched for an unused sketch book as she flip through the pages.
In one of the books something fell out. Stopping she picked it up and saw it was a key. She looked at it in concentration. Could this be...
She locked the basement door and quickly fled down the staircase. Standing in front of the door she placed the key inside. Turning she heard it unlock and with no patience she rushed in to the room.
There were many canvases spread in the room. She slowly walked through what appeared to be her own personal gallery. They ranged from many different forms of art styles and she found herself getting excited to explore those ways of painting again.
She thought she was at the end of the paintings but she saw a one hidden in the far back of the room. As she walked up to it, she felt herself begin to tremble. She stood still as her eyes roamed over the painting.
It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen and as she looked over Jennies face she wept as the memories flooded over her.
Lisa gave Mrs Park a warm smile, as she was directed towards the basement door. The phone call she'd gotten from Rosé sounded so urgent and yet it seemed peaceful in the Park household. She listened as her friends mom spoke.
"She locked herself up in here for most of the day, I'm happy she atleast invited a friend," said Rosé's mom as she left Lisa to knock on the door.
On the fourth knock, the door clipped open and the blonde felt herself being tugged inside. She felt a hand lead her down the stairs and soon she was met with piles of paintings.
Lisa looked around the room and turned towards Rosé. Her friend's eyes were bloodshot and it looked like she was crying.
"Oh my word, Rosie are you okay," Lisa rushed to hug her. Rosé returned it before pulling her friend back. She shook her head earnestly.
"No Lisa. I'm not okay. I need to find her," tears fell from her eyes. Lisa looked at her with worry.
"Who?" Lisa asked
"Jennie, I need to find her. I need you to help me," Rosé hurriedly pushed past her friend to go lock the other door. Lisa was shocked to hear their teachers first name come from her friend.
"Just wait a minute Rosie. Come on let's sit down," Lisa pointed to the couch.
"No, Lisa we need to go," Rosé felt the storm of tears coming again as Lisa came to hug her.
"We..we..ne..ed to find her," she allowed her friend to circle her arms around her as she sobbed.
YOU ARE READING
Deliverance
Fanfiction"What's the difference between right and wrong?" whispered Jennie "I am," said Rosé A story dedicated to a friend who's loved and lost but continues to inspire others anyway. I thank you. Book 2 in the Chaennie Universe.
