I had a dream last night.
There was a girl, her face looked strangely familiar, she was smiling widely. We were inside a white empty room, there was nothing but a door that was strangely painted black. Holding my hand, she led me there.
What awaited us there was darkness. As the darkness engulfed us, I started to feel my legs trembling in fear. Fear that I didn't know where the hell came from. I was starting to doubt if this was really a dream, but no matter how I tried to wake myself up, I just couldn't. And I couldn't bring myself to speak.
It was awfully silent. Even our footsteps couldn't be heard. It was unnerving.
Just when I was sure I would faint in nervousness, the little girl suddenly spoke in a strange manner that made my heart jump.
“What are you feeling fear for? Isn't this the place you've been walking on?”
What, what?
She sighed and halted, “You... really are more blind than an actual blind.”
My eyes widened when I felt her small hand sliding off my palm. My lips trembled, wanted to scream.
No! Don't leave me here!
“Now, you're finally aware how scared are you to get left alone in the dark?”
I stopped, almost hyperventilating.
She chuckled.
It was echoing and it was fucking unnerving to listen.
“Rose, where are those thorns you used to protect yourself?”
I couldn't speak, I couldn't move, I couldn't even think straight. I just know that it was better that way, so I didn't resist.
“You didn't use your thorns right, Rose.”
She didn't speak for almost felt like an hour, but in fact just a minute.
She gasped, her small voice quivering. “Now, it's gone. All gone.”
She's... crying.
“And now I'm gone too.”
A spotlight appeared just steps ahead of me, at the center of it was a beautiful red rose. It looked oddly proud, standing tall with its thorns dangerously sprouted on its body. But there was a hint of tenderness and innocence in it. With its petals being open so widely, it's almost looked like... It's also smiling widely.
Just looking at it made me feel a wave of nostalgia. It was... very familiar. It reminded me of the little girl back in the white room. Just then, she suddenly emerged from the dark and crouched down, poking the rose's petals.
The little girl glared at me with reddened eyes.
“You should have use those thorns of yours to remind them that even though you look fragile, you're not.
“You could make them smile, you could make them happy, you could comfort them.”
Her face screwed up, lips tightly closed together. She heaved a deep breath and continued,
“But you should have shown them that if they hurt you, you're not the one who would bleed but them.”
Her tears finally fell.
“You were naive.”
She abruptly stood and marched in front of the rose, like she was shielding it from me.
She smirked, but her eyes were still glinting with tears.
“It's your own fault that you became what you have become!”
