Friday, 16 April 2010
ROSES ARE DEAD By Liza Larregui
Roses Are Dead
The copper taste in my mouth offended my stomach as I slowly gained awareness to my situation. My eyes, weak and blurry, found the window in my bedroom. Its white curtains blew from the October breeze that captured New York every fall. I tried to focus on the curtains as they were a delightful distraction to the gnawing pain that resonated throughout my body. The soft delicate flowers that were perfectly sewn into them brought me back to my childhood; playing in the meadow behind our house, ripping the newly bud flowers out from its roots and sniffing the beauty that was their scent. I could still hear my mother calling me, ‘Rosey Posey Soft and Cozy, it’s time for dinner.’ My face was warm just in remembering the blistering sun that gleamed so bright.
“Ro, I’m so sorry. Ro, are you okay?” Jackson winced as he pulled my aching body off our bedroom floor. His once stunning wavy blonde hair was now blood stained and sloppy. My husbands handsome face was now replaced with an irrational one, full of rage, insanity and sorrow.
Jackson placed me on our bed which sent ripples of pain to every nerve ending. “You know I didn’t mean it, right? I love you so much. Please don’t die on me, Ro. I need you!” He cried as bent down to my level and fingered the wounds that were sprinkled about my body.
His words filled my ears but never made it to my brain. His voice, the one that I fell in love with many years ago, was now just noise. Incomprehensible noise.
As the pain in my body intensified and the blood loss increased, the minutes of life I had left began to evaporate like water on a hot day. Slowly but definitely.
“What would you like for dinner, my love?” I asked yelling into the living room from the kitchen. Jackson sat on the couch, changing the channels faster than they could appear on screen, and ignored my question. I walked over to him, wiping my soapy hands on a dry towel, and asked again. “Jack, honey. What would you like for dinner?”
Still holding the remote tightly in his grip, he turned his head toward me with dark eyes that seemed to twitch every few seconds. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong. Could you just leave me alone? God, I hate when you nag and nag and nag.” His chiseled face looked hard, cold and angry.
“LEAVE ME ALONE!” He growled. I recoiled as one single tear fled my eye and made its way down my cheek. My lips quivered as I stood there in shock. Who was this man? “Ro, I’m sorry.” He leaped off the couch and ran to my shaking body. His strong hands grabbed mine as he brought them to his lips. “I don’t know what happened there. I’m so sorry.” I looked deep into his eyes and saw nothing. It was as if he had no soul. His baby blue eyes showed tints of yellow I had only seen once before. As I turned to walk away he pulled me back to him, his strength overbearing.
“You said you would never yell at me, like that, again. This is how it starts, you know? First the outburst, then the apology and then--”
“Look, I said I’m sorry. I can’t control it all the time. Maybe if I go out back and just relax for a few minutes, I’ll calm myself down.” His eyes, back to pure blue, pleaded with my own sad eyes. “I love you, Ro. I just can’t control it.
“Take all the time you need, okay? I’ll be upstairs in a bath. I love you, too.” I said as I kissed him on the cheek.
Jackson slapped my face until my eyes fluttered. “Ro, come on. Wake up, Ro.” When my eyes finally and painfully opened, they met Jacksons whose eyes had turned completely yellow. “I need to talk to you, Ro. Can you hear me?” He said frantically.
“Jack.” I mustered. Moving my lips meant breathing which caused more pain than it was worth.
“Listen to me, Ro.” He began. “I’m going to have to finish this, okay? I didn’t mean to start it but now I have to end it. I can’t bring you to a hospital, you know? I can’t explain my condition or why I did this. They’ll throw me in a crazy house, you know that!”
His deep and gravely voice grew further into the distance as my hearing slowly diminished. The hair on his face peeked in as his arms enlarged and enraptured me. He was no longer my husband but an animal. His white razor sharp teeth shone in the full moonlight as his mouth widened to devour me.
Within seconds, I was in a meadow running, almost flying, through the wild flowers that had sprung. My extended hands brushed them all as I kept moving, never stopping.
Liza's work can be seen every Friday at http://www.flashesinthedark.com/ . She currently lives in NYC with her husband and her MacBook. Liza can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org .