When Red Roses Die

Chapter 2

Scarlett

Just like every day, I awoke covered in sweat and my whole body trembling. My eyes found a spot on the wall to stare at while I tried to get my breathing under control.

It was just a dream.

They can't hurt you anymore.

You are safe...

Eventually the shaking subsided and I managed to roll over onto my back.

Bash laid beside me, studying me with those beautiful blue eyes.

"Did I ever tell you of the time I was doing a business deal and I got a bloody nose?" Bash said randomly. His soft voice helped me relax more though.

"No." I chuckled. Turning my head to face him.

"Yeah. The guy I was doing business with became convinced that I was a witch. That I was using magic to make him buy some of my livestock." Bash put his hand over mine. Though his hand floated inside of mine.

"You had livestock?" I gaped.

"Different times. Everyone had livestock. I didn't care for them though, I paid people to tend the animals." Bash explained.

"How do you do that?" I asked, wishing very hard for him to turn real so I could hold his hand and not just for a few minutes. 

It's hard to have a best friend who's a ghost. You don't get that physical relationship. And I don't mean that in a sexual way. Though Bash is very hot, don't get me wrong, its just sucks not being able to hug him. 

"Do what?" Bash asked.

"Make me forget? Comfort me at my darkest times?" I questioned

"I dunno. I just want to help you and I say the first thing that comes to mind. Whether it's relevant or not." He shrugged his shoulders. The movement moving him, but not the bed.

"What's on the agenda for today?" Bash asked as he sat up.

"Well I completed my job yesterday, so I should have awhile off." I checked my phone and was glad to see that there was no death threats or concerning notifications.

The bed groaned as I got up. The frame was probably older than Bash. I grinned at that thought.

"What're you smiling about?" Bash asked, a smile splitting his face. The dimple making an appearance. That dimple will be the death of me.

"How old my furniture is." I walked over to the same blackout curtain as always and pulled it open. The soft colors of the morning sun flooded my pitch-black room.

Bash chuckled at my random thought as I went about making my bed. I spent an extra five minutes making sure it was perfectly smooth and neat.

I went about the rest of my morning ritual. Going into my small walk-in closet I pulled out jeans and a blue sweatshirt-my go-to attire when I'm not working-a sports bra and underwear. Before I changed, I straightened my closet. Making sure the clothes were in their correct order and refolding clothes that didn't meet standards.

Once I deemed it orderly, I walked back into my room and took off the old clothes I currently wore. I folded my old clothes, walked them into the laundry room, and placed them in the correct laundry basket.

Then I grabbed my new clothes and walked to the bathroom.

Before I shut the door to the bathroom, I noticed Bash in the living room looking out the window. Probably people watching. He knows better than to disturb me once I start my morning ritual.

Inside the bathroom, I put my clothes down and got in the shower. The cold water washing off the dried sweat from my night terror. I washed my hair, scrubbed my skin raw, shaved everything that needed to be shaved, washed my face, and finally got out of the shower.

I grabbed a towel from the bathroom closet, the old material scratchy against my raw skin, and continued my morning ritual. Brush teeth, put on deodorant, clean ears and nails, then I reorganized the bathroom.

Once I finished that I put my new clothes on and brushed my hair. Deciding it was a hair up kinda day, I threw my red locks into a bun.

My morning ritual was complete. As soon as I left the bathroom, a sort of calmness washed over me.

My morning ritual started out as a routine. But it eventually evolved into a ritual when I started depending on it.

My nights and days were filled with chaos, my mornings though, they had routine and order. It made coping a lot better when I had something to look forward to every morning.

No matter what happened during the day, I can always come home and see the same order and organization thanks to my morning ritual.

No matter the nightmares or memories that plague my sleep, I can wake up and expect the same thing. I wouldn't be able to cope if I didn't have my morning ritual.

Bash turned and smiled at me as I walked into the living room/kitchen.

"I have to go shopping today, cause there is literally zero food in the fridge and cupboards," I said as I walked to the door and put my navy converses on.

"I'll drive." Bash grinned as his hand swiped through the keys.

"Hardy har har," I said, grabbing the keys and my wallet. I shoved my wallet in one of my back pockets and my phone in the other.

I walked out the door and turned to lock it. Bash walked through the closed door and went to my old jeep, as I locked the door.

Once I checked the lock three times, I turned and walked to my jeep. Swinging the creaky old door open and got in.

I put the key in the ignition and turned it, all while noticing my steady hands. My morning ritual never failed to calm me down.

"We should go golfing." Bash said, pulling my attention to him.

"Golf is not a fun game when you're playing alone," I frowned as I waited for the vehicle to warm up.

I hated that my best friend was a ghost as there was only so much you could do with a ghost.

"Good point. I suppose you should stick to your original plan and I'll just haunt you," Bash smiled at me, his easy demeanor pulling me from my thoughts.

"Do you want to ever be human again?" I asked him, apparently catching him off guard as his smile fell.

He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably.

He made to speak but I cut him off. "Never mind. I'm sorry for asking." I felt his blue gaze fall on me, but ignored him as I pulled on to the road.

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Thank you for reading Chapter 2! Let me know what you think so far!