Roses | Peter Pevensie

Chapter One

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Before the war, everything had been good. Not picture-perfect, but not bad either. Her father and brother were home every night, and her mother was always smiling with bright green eyes - the eyes Rosemary had inherited.

But now, the house felt cold and empty. The whole property did, actually.

Rosemary rolled over in bed for the hundredth time that night. It was early morning by this time - probably around 4AM. The sun had yet to rise but she could feel the morning creeping up on England.

Sleep became more difficult when both her father and brother, Daniel, left to fight in the war. But it had disappeared almost entirely when she'd gotten the news.

Daniel was M.I.A. Missing in Action.

Rosemary did her best not to think about what that could mean, but even working on the farm from dawn to dusk wasn't enough to distract her or tire her enough to give her more than two hours of broken sleep.

Giving up with a huff, Rosemary threw the covers off of her body and sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes even though she hadn't slept for a minute since she crawled into bed around midnight.

Looking over, the moonlight streaming in through the large bay window was focused entirely on the empty bed next to hers. It was made just how Daniel made it every morning before starting the day. It was like he'd just left yesterday when it had actually been nearly five months. Sometimes, when his and her father's absence hit her harder than usual, Rosemary would carry her blanket over to Daniel's side of the room and curl up on top of his covers, letting the familiar smell of her older brother soothe her anxiety and sadness.

Daniel had always been there for Rosemary. Whether it was to calm her down or to urge his introverted sister into social situations, he was never far away. But now that he was gone and her mother - the only other family member she had - was now an unofficial alcoholic, Rosemary was on her own, and in more way than one.

Instead of going to her brother's bed, Rosemary stumbled over to the bay window seat. The book she'd been reading was still there and she picked it up without hesitation, more than ready to get lost in another world.

Flipping to the twentieth page of Gulliver's Travels, Rosemary began to read, wishing she was Gulliver if only for a moment. She was ready to escape her miserable world.

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Soft grass tickles her ankles and the bottoms of her feet and the soft flower petals feel like silk against her fingertips as she wanders through the forest.

'Where am I?' Rosemary wonders, looking around. All she could see was green. She was in the middle of the woods, but how had she gotten there?

Something rustles in the distance and Rosemary spins around quickly. Was it a bear or bunny or something in between?

"He-hello?"

Something pops out behind a rock and Rosemary squints at the figure. It was a deer, munching on some berries peacefully. Hypnotized by its beauty, Rosemary steps forward but accidentally snaps a twig with her bare foot.

"Ouch," she hisses, quickly stepping off of it. The deer immediately stops eating and looks up. The moment they make eye contact, it turns around and darts away. Its white tail bounces as it disappears deeper into the wood, and Rosemary sighs in indignation. Turning in the opposite direction, she begins to walk, careful to move in a single direction. Hopefully, she would reach the end of the woods and see where she was.

Time seemed to jump, and soon enough she was in the middle of a small clearing, looking over the sea at the top of a cliff. She couldn't see the other side, just the glaring sun bouncing off the gentle waves as it slowly set over the horizon.

It was beautiful. It was peaceful.

England was neither at the moment. Rosemary sighs and looks away. Even in her dreams, she couldn't escape her reality. Salty tears spring to her eyes as she thought about her horrible and fear-filled life.

"I wish I could stay here forever," she says to the wind and sea, wiping away unshed tears. Like a response, the wind seems to howl and a strong gust comes from the forest, blowing Rosemary's hair all around her head. Her hair covers her eyes, ears, and nose, and she struggles to breathe. Turning around in panic, she struggles to push the hair from her face so she can see but it only seems to get worse, tangling and tightening around her throat.

She steps back, but there's nothing but air to catch her. And then she is falling.

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