Rose: A Short Story

ROSE PART 3

For the next few weeks, Rose and I had spent a lot of time together. We had met each other in front of the pizza parlour down the street at the same time every day, and we strolled through the streets and just spent a lot of valuable time together. We would walk into the gift shops and point out the little things that reminded us of each other. Rose would show me all of these neat places downtown that I'd never seen. We would play hide and seek in the alleys. We'd buy the same drink at Starbucks and walk home with the exact same amount finished. Our relationship was truly special.

We also spent our nights up late talking to each other about God-knows-what because we were so tired. Rose would always call at the same time and we'd talk until almost two in the morning. We laughed until we cried, we sang along to our favourite songs and we'd sometimes watch television programs in sync. It was such an amazing experience knowing I'd finally found the perfect girl.

•

But like all good things, this one didn't last forever. One warm April morning I'd met Rose in front of the pizza parlour, but she was ten minutes late. I didn't want to provoke her if she had missed her bus here, because after all, she is human and I have no right to judge her. So we carried on throughout the day and I threw aside the fact that something had gone wrong that morning. But then, the weeks after that had been cut shorter and shorter and the nights before I had again met up with Rose had become longer.

It was a small change, but I definitely noticed something when Rose stopped smiling. She would look directly down and never in my eye. It was like she was living in fear of something, like she was struck in the middle of the night and was permanently scarred. I desperately wanted my old Rose back.