The Rose of Death

Deep and rolling thunder sounded off in the distance and wind-driven rain poured down upon the house in fierce sheets. To the outside world the dark, luminous clouds threatened the waning day; but from inside the house, the storm was all but deafened.

“We don’t have money for that!” he yelled, repeated himself for the millionth time to his apparently deaf wife.

Without listening she replied right back. “Well how do you expect to make money without transportation?”

“I can walk just fine!” he answered without missing a beat.

“I already told you, I don’t like you walking!”

“It’s not your life,” he said stubbornly.

Her face burned deep crimson. Here they were, husband and wife, broke and arguing. Earlier that day, without asking her husband, Kaci had bought a cheap, used car. It was much needed since neither of them had a car to drive to work in. But, in buying it, she’d used up a month’s worth of minimum wage paychecks; and they still had bills to pay…somehow.

But to Kaci it was worth it. They didn’t have money for bus transportation and she didn’t like seeing her husband, Chris, have to walk five miles to work every day on the busy streets of their city. That’s ten miles round-trip, five days a week. But Chris didn’t seem to understand this and she was beginning to think it was all for nothing.

“You know what?” she asked, throwing up her hands, “since you seem to like walking so much, why don’t you just walk right out that door?”

He met her hard stare, challenging the will in her eyes. Then he turned his head and went to the door. He was just a stubborn as she was. Without even hesitating he marched himself out into the stormy night, slamming the door behind him.

Tears of frustration blurred his eyes to the point where he couldn’t even see. The blinding rain and chilly winds didn’t help much, either. How did she expect them to continue living on literally no money? He couldn’t stand to see her suffering. Especially not from hunger, as he knew they’d end up doing for the next couple months. He loved her so much…and wanted to do what was best for the both of them. How was he to do that now? Shaking his head he sighed and approached the roadside, already soaked to the bone and freezing. He didn’t even bother to look both ways when he crossed the street; too much was weighing on his mind at the moment. He never even saw the truck coming until it hit him straight on.

One week later

Raindrops pelted her window shield mercilessly, one heavy drop after another. It was storming once again, just like that night not long ago. She couldn’t see more than two feet ahead of her at a time; everything else was lost to the wind and darkness. But she didn’t slow; she couldn’t slow.

She had to get to him as fast as possible; she had to be with him. Especially now, she had to be with him.

She parked the car and without hesitation climbed out, not even bothering to close the door behind her. She took off running blindly through the heavy sheets of rain and wind. She had to get to him.

It took her a moment to find where he was, but once she did she ran to him as fast as her legs could carry her. As she approached, she realized he was holding a rose, but he didn’t look at her. He didn’t even hear her coming.

“Chris…” she said, trying to catch his attention. He said nothing in return.

“Chris!” she repeated, crying out louder this time. He still didn’t look at her. It was as if she were invisible. “Chris,” she whispered, confused. She found herself searching his empty face for some kind of recognition, any recognition.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered still, a lone teardrop escaping her eye. What more could she say? He wouldn’t listen to her. He wouldn’t answer.

“I didn’t mean the words I said,” she tried desperately. “I was…I was just made at the time.” She waited, watching, but no sign of recognition came. Why won’t he hear me!

She fell to her knees, weeping convulsively at his feet. Does he hate me that much? Does he hate me so much now that he can’t even acknowledge my presence?

“I’m sorry. It’s all my fault and it never should have happened. Not like it did. It never should have happened.” She kept talking, even without response. The words just kept falling out of her mouth, one apologetic line at a time.

“Please forgive me. Just give me one more chance! I said I was sorry! I-I said I was sorry…” she whispered, gasping for breath between shameless sobs.

Flashbacks of the previous week replayed themselves through her mind then, like some kind of broken record. Sirens wailed, filling her ears. Flashing lights reflected off the falling rain, blinding her eyes once again as she recalled them. But most of all she just remembered confusion sweeping over her. She couldn’t even grasp what had happened at the time, although they tried telling her.

All at once the memories hit her: utter confusion, blinding lights, deafening sirens, rushing people, thunder, rain…and blood. She remembered seeing blood. She never learned from what, though. Her mind refused to accept the thought. A rush of retentiveness bombarded her at once, threatening to pull her into the nightmare once again.

“I love you,” she said suddenly. The words came out before she could stop them. She looked back at him through renewed tears. Surely he’d say something back to that. Surely he’d react in some way!

But still nothing came. She frowned, disappointment welling up in her throat. “I said I love you, why won’t you answer me?” she asked, hurt.

She stared down at the rose he held, tears blurring what remaining vision she had instantly. She stared down at the rose on his coffin, wondering why.