The girl with the white rose

The girl with the white rose

A Story by beth.the.dancer
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for a contest.

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Delicately, she bends towards the white rose. She inhales the sweet aroma.
“Where are you?” She whispers, as if talking to the rose. “Why aren’t you here?” Her eyes, as deep as the ocean and as dark as the night sky, rise. She stares at the white clouds, the cerulean sky. Small strands of blonde locks fall onto her beautiful face. Tears start to run down her pale cheeks. She begins to wonder what heavens like. Big gold gates, fluffy clouds for houses, banquets every night? Maybe. But, somewhere, somewhere deep inside her bruised heart, the girl – the girl, who everyone wondered about, the girl who sat in the burial grounds every day at three in the afternoon – knew that he was here. Here, holding her hand, here watching over her. She felt his presence.
 
“RUN, COME ON!” He yelled, his eyes frantically encouraging her to sprint towards him, across the rocks. She took a deep breath, and begun taking slow steps. “HURRY UP!” She laughed, and hurried towards him. The soft breeze swirled around her. She was so high... if she reached up, she could probably brush the clouds with the tips of her fingers.
“I’m catching up with you!” She cried out. She waited for his witty, sarcastic reply. Her only response was the crashing of the waves down below here. “Where are you?” She called, panic rising in her like vomit. She pushes in down, her gaze frantically searching the cliff edge, the rocks hanging off the edge that they’d been climbing across. Her eyes lingered on the rock, which had seemed to have crumbled. Tears run down her face, as she runs towards it. She peered over the edge, fear pulsing through her veins.
He lay below her, at a twisted angle, his eyes semi-shut. It was a small ledge, but she was almost certain she could get there. She perched on the crumbling rock, and gently pushed herself off. She landed with a thud, beside her boyfriend. She knelt down. She ran her fingers through his messy, brown hair. “Alex, get up. Come on,” she whispered, close to his ear. His green eyes flickered open. “Grace, hi.” He smiled that lop-sided, goofy smile she loved, and took hold of her hand. “Look at that. What’s that doing there?” He murmured. She followed his eyes, and stared curiously at the white rose. She shrugged. He looked hurt... she glanced at her watch 3pm. His eyes twitched, but then shut. “Alex! Alex, stop it!” She cried. “Wake up!”
 
Three hours later, Grace strolls along the Cliffside – the same Cliffside where Alex died. The sun is setting over the sea, casting ribbons of entwisted colours in all directions. The sea was calm today. She shuts her eyes, briefly. She pauses, as she spots the rock the crumbled. She peers over the edge – the same way she had last year, only this time with a brand new, scary emotion. – Excitement, anticipation? She could feel it inside her – what she was going to do, and she is terrified of herself. But, her broken heart had already made a decision.
Gracefully, she leaps off the rock – onto the ledge. She gasps in three, short gusts of sea air. She sighs, and wonders what she’s doing.
You love him. So, be with him.
She smiles, realizing this is what she wants. She picks out the white rose she had put in her bag, and twists it round and round with her fingers. “Goodbye,” she says softly. She gets ready to jump.
“Grace, wait.” A deep, unsettling familiar voice calls.
“Alex?”  

© 2009 beth.the.dancer


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Added on April 18, 2009

Author

beth.the.dancer
beth.the.dancer

london, United Kingdom



About
I'm 18, and I live in London. I'm studying fashion. I love writing, also (duh). My name is Beth. xxx more..

Writing