Ring Around the Dead Roses

“Those with an evil heart seem

to have a talent for destroying anything beautiful

which is about to bloom.”

- Cynthia Rylant

Roses. Dead roses. An entire field of dead roses stretches out in front of me, as far as the eye could see brown, dead ,wilted roses. It had been like that for as long as I could remember  but, I had heard stories of when all of these roses had been alive and every one of them had been the exact same color as blood. I had been told that the roses had been more beautiful than anything anyone had ever seen, that they were without flaw. According to the tales I had been told, the roses could never be picked, not even after they were all dead. I had always been told that the reason they had all died was because one day, a long time ago, a newcomer came to thes city and, ignoring all the warnings he had been given about the roses, picked one to bring home to his wife. unfortunately , the second he had removed the rose from the ground he had died along with every single rose.

I often would come out to this very cliff and looked out at the roses, pondering the stories I had been told about them, wondering if they were true. To me it seemed crazy that simply by plucking a single rose from the ground it could kill thousands of others exactly like it. I was constantly trying to think of a better explanation for what could’ve happened. Today had been no different until I walked to the very edge of the cliff as I had a thousand times before but this time when I looked out along with the thousands of brown, wilted roses I saw a path of black roses leading away from the cliff towards the opposite end of the field. At first, I had thought it was just a figment of my imagination, a fluke of my mind, but I soon realized that it was very real. Not only was it very real, there were new roses sprouting along the path towards the base of the cliff and they were sprouting fast. Within the span of a few minutes the roses had reached the bottom of the cliff. Instead of stopping like I had expected them to, the roses began to sprout up the side of the cliff. I was hypnotized by the growth of these strange roses, by their color, by the way they were sprouting, simply by the idea of these strange roses. The roses took almost no time at all to climb the cliff. When they began to come closer to the edge of the cliff I took a few steps back. The first rose sprouted on the top of the cliff before mind had even had a chance to process what these ross were or how they had gotten here.

The roses continued sprouting until they reached my feet at which point they stopped dead in their path. I still had no clue how to feel about these strange flowers but, before I had the chance to think about it another rose sprouted. This particular rose was not completely black like the others, it was red, the same color as blood. In fact, this rose perfectly mirrored the description I’d been given a thousand times before when told about the old living roses, a deep green stem, four perfectly symmetrical leaves, blood red petals, completely without flaw. I almost couldn’t believe what was in front of in front of me. Without thinking, I reached down and touched the rose’s delicate petals. At first, nothing happened, but then, all of the black roses began to grow even taller. Then, just as suddenly as they had started, they stopped.

The red rose hadn’t changed at all, it hadn’t even been affected. All of the sudden, the tops of the black roses began to rise and separate from the their stems as if they had never been attached to begin with. The blossoms then transformed from a solid definite thing. For a moment they simply hovered there, then, they all combined into one ball directly above the red rose. At that point I didn’t know what could’ve been happening. They shapeless mass stayed completely still for a moment then it began to move and shift until it was the shape of a rose blossom. Again, it hovered for a while before again it move, it turned into a swirling snake-like creature in the sky. It kept swirling and swirling until finally it came straight down on my head, it didn’t hurt at all, as it touched me it absorbed into my skin. I could hardly feel it entering me yet I knew it had become a part of me. Once every particle had absorbed into my skin, against my my own will, I stood up and began to follow the path of black rose stems to the edge of the cliff where I stopped. I remained standing there unable to move for what felt like hours until finally my legs were forced to move and I began to fall straight down off the edge of the cliff. As I rapidly began to get closer to the ground I didn’t feel scared, in fact, I didn’t feel any emotion at all I almost felt as if I was at peace. In the split second before my feet hit the ground I stopped dead, just inches above my ultimate demise. Then, after hovering above the ground for a few seconds I was gently set down on the ground then I again commenced walking along the trail of rose stems, my legs moving against my will.

Every muscle in my body was so tight that it hurt, my mind felt numb, like every emotion, every thought, every memory had been drained. I could barely think for myself, it was as if someone had forced me to relinquish all control over my life and my body. After walking for about an hour I had gone almost completely numb from the pain, at first I was concerned from it but then after a minute or two I decided that being numb was better than having to endure that amount of pain. Step after step I was forced along the rose stem path. Step by step the numbness in my muscles began to fade only to be replaced by excruciating pain. Step by step I am forced to look straight ahead. Step by step I feel the life slowly begin to drain from my body. Step by step I am forced into a repetitive robotic motion.

I was forced to walk for hours and hours, looking straight ahead at the sky that was slowly beginning to fade from a soft blue to a light pink to a deep bright orange that burned my eyes. I could see the end of the rose stems, I was almost there, maybe then it would end, maybe then this torture would be over, maybe I could go home. It took another hour but finally I reached the end, somewhere in my head I felt overjoyed that this would be over. When I reached the end I was finally forced to stop then instead of being released I was forced to turn around and walk back. Every step was agony until I reached the base of the cliff once more where once again I stopped but this time I was pulled upward by an invisible force and set down on the cliff, and once again I was forced to walk to the end of the path stop at the red rose, turn around and start again. I was once again forced to walk the rose stem path. I had never been in this much pain before in my life, it was almost unbearable.

I was forced to walk the path for three days, the first day it was the pain that made walking the path unbearable, on the second it was the loneliness, and on the third it was the silence. The silence had been the worse out of all of them, sadly the silence is what I am forced to endure for the rest of eternity. At the end of the third day of walking as I stopped at the base of the cliff once again instead of my entire body being pulled up by the strange force, the smoke that had entered me three days before that had forced me to walk this path pushed its way out of me through my eyes, mouth, and nose. The pain that occurred as the smoke leaked out of my head was so unbearable that I would’ve gladly endured three more days of walking on sharp nails and broken glass. The pain didn’t end quickly, the smoke took its time as it exited my body. When it finally ended I still had no control over any part of me but, in front of me the smoke stretched itself out into a long thin snake that wrapped itself around me, beginning at my feet and working its way up, when it reached my neck it stopped and tied itself around it. It then dragged me up until my feet were just in front of the cliff’s edge, it then began to uncoil itself from around me, still leaving the noose around my neck, it reached slowly towards the red rose, the smoke moved slowly. I was still fully suspended somehow, at this point I didn’t care to question it, the smoke meticulously tied itself around the rose, as if making sure that it was plenty tight. Finally, the smoke let go of me and let fall until the rope caught and my my neck snapped and I was gone.

Author's Note

I was posting quite a bit of poetry which is definitely not my forte so I decided to post a few of my short stories. This one is one of the very first, but as more of my stories are posted you'll probably notice that I have a slight obsession with roses. I appreciate your suggestions. Thanks : )