Hanahaki Disease

Rose was hiding under the covers of her bed, eyes puffy and red, her face was red from all the crying, with tears streaming down her soft cheeks; her hair was messy, and her choked sobs were the only thing that disturbed the quiet atmosphere of her apartment. Her emotions were unstable, and her brain malfunctioning. She felt as if a demon had possessed her, ripping her heart apart.
His name was Blake, he was in her art class, he was the mysterious type of boys; black leather jacket, riding a motorcycle; the university 'play boy'. She had a crush on him, and her love for him grew bigger every day. She thought she could change him, but she got it all wrong. He used her, played with her feelings and manipulated her as one of his voodoo dolls. She did things she never thought she would ever do, like being on drugs and heroine, losing her innocence to him,...she had given him everything, her heart, her life, but instead, after taking everything he wanted, he had just broken up with her, throwing her aside like a piece of trash.
After her breakdown, she had stayed days at home without leaving, nor eating. One day, around 3pm, she got up, unable to sleep, still having nightmares about Blake breaking up with her, and realizing that she was actually stuck in a real life nightmare. She got up to walk around in the house, trying to empty her mind, when she saw him in front of her, in her house. Realizing it wasn't an illusion nor a dream, she had remembered that after all that had happened, she left the door unlocked. She felt prickles of fear after being slapped back to reality. But at her strange realization, she was feeling somehow relieved that she forgot her door unlocked or she would never have seen him. Deep down, she still loved him, it was an unrequited love.
And there he stood, drunk and high. His eyes glazed over, it was the first time she ever felt fear toward the man she loved. He came forward like he owned the place and jumped on her, trapping her to the floor. She didn't tried to resist. He ripped her clothes off and violated her in every way possible. He raped her, the man she loved had raped her, and she was actually feeling pleasure mixed up with pain and satisfaction. She asked herself if she was a sinner for enjoying being raped by the man she loved. She felt the length of his body melting into hers, an unfamiliar edge to her need. She needed him, she wanted him, even he was using her, she didn't want to with the warmth of his body on hers. Her feelings were her restless sparks that burns threw her, the image in her brain blurred as it left black dots in her vision. The minutes passed, she couldn't get a glimpse of how much time had passed, but then, he stood up after finishing his job, and she looked down when she realized the unmounts of blood she had lost. It felt hot with an unbearable pain. As he turned around to leave, she stretched her hand trying to reach him, she wanted to scream, telling him not to go, and to only love her. But no sound came out of her mouth. He had left, and there she was, alone in this deadly silent room, she cried, she was in such a pain, physically as mentally. As she tried to scream, she felt something in her throat; she tried to spit it out, and there came out red rose petals. She knew very well what it was.
It was he "Hanahaki disease". After all the painful love she had gone through, she knew it would happen. She knew very well that the flower of her painful love can be easily removed by an operation, but then, she could never be able to love the person she love or anyone else. And she also knew that it was no way she could gave up her love just to live. Because living without loving the one she love had no meaning to her at all. So she chose to bear the pain till her final breath.
Blake kept coming from night to night, drunk and raping her all over again without any second thought, and she would still give in to him. One month had already passed. One morning, she woke up with gnaw pain in her throat, she was suffocating. She knew that her time had come. With a fainted smile, the rose bloomed out of her throat, came out of her mouth ripping her veins with its thorns. She died alone, slowly bathing in her blood, with one with her other than her pain. To her, the mental pain she was threw was much worse than her physical pain. And here, few minutes passed and she rested in peace.
After two days, Blake came at usual. At first, he didn't find her, so he searched the bathroom. At the sight of her wallowing in her blood, a horrified expression showed on his face. Unable to understand the scene in front of him, he started screaming and neighbors came out and immediately called 911. Of course, according to the coroner, the cause of the death was the "Hanahaki disease", and she was buried with roses. Even after many years, the ground over her grave was always covered with beautiful blood red color roses that bloomed without anyone taking care of them or planting them.
Stories where circulating that people who have died from "Hanahaki disease" would still have roses blooming out of them, and that the roses color comes from the person's own blood.
                 The End