Rose

She awoke when someone sat down beside her. Her eyes opened slowly and she took a deep breath, as if she was in a lack of air. The red silk sheets beneath her caressed her body as she turned to look at the person beside her. It was a man... A young man with semi-long hair. It was as dark as the night and it looked like it hadn't met a comb in a long time. The sparkling hazel eyes were staring like they had never seen anything like her. But they didn't smile and neither did his lips. His unshaven chin and jaw made him look a little harsh, but still there was something about him that made her feel safe.

She blinked a few times when he moved to the side, allowing the bright sun light to get past him and land on her. Her hand found its way to her face and she let it rest on her forehead, so it could block the sun from shining directly into her sensitive eyes.

The man thought she looked so tiny and fragile as she lay there on his bed. She was beautiful, very beautiful. He had seen girls like her many times before. Pretty on the outside, but a mess on the inside. She needed help, or rather, she needed his help. The confusion began to spread over her face and a small smile climbed his lips. He would save her... soon... but first she needed to understand why.

"Good morning," he whispered and gently stroke her cheek, "How are you feeling?"

She didn't understand what was going on. The man beside her was a stranger, she was almost sure she had never seen him before. She felt like panicking, but his friendly voice made her stay calm. The carefully formed smile on his lips made him look a lot better, almost like an angel. She studied his lips closer and noticed a ring on the left side of his bottom lip. It didn't stick out at all, it hugged so close to his lip that it made her wonder if it would leave a mark when he took it out.

"Where am I?" she asked and used her arms to push herself into a sitting position. He stood up, but kept looking down at her, the smile never leaving his face.

"You're at home," he stated, sounding very serene. She took a look around the room, but didn't find it familiar. The walls were painted a different color than her bedroom walls. Hers were white with a tiny spot of pink, this was sky blue. Neither did she own a dark brown bureau nor a gold gramophone. All she had in her bedroom was a light colored closet, a single bed, a small television and a desk.

She turned her attention back to the man and captured his eyes with her own: "Who are you?" she asked and bit her bottom lip while waiting for his answer. To her surprise he closed his eyes and let out a lovely chuckle. Her question wasn't funny, so she didn't understand his sudden laughter. He shook his head slightly, before opening his eyes again and resuming his staring.

"You really don't remember anything, do you?" he asked and took her hand, "I'm Phil, your boyfriend," she could barely understand the words that was coming out of his mouth. Not because he spoke indistinctly, but because what he was saying made absolutely no sense to her. She didn't have a boyfriend, she had hardly ever tried kissing with anyone. Or had she? Her thoughts were cut off when he spoke again, "Is something wrong, Rose?" he asked in a caring tone and cocked his head to one side, looking like he was waiting for an answer patiently.

"What... did you just call me?" she wasn't sure if she had heard right.

"Rose, what else should I call you?" he chuckled and smiled wide. It almost sounded like he was talking to a child. But that was the last thing she worried about. What really freaked her out, was the fact that her name wasn't Rose.

"My name is Eve... Eve Torres, not Rose," she whispered, but actually she wasn't sure. She wasn't sure of anything anymore. He called her Rose and claimed that the room she was in was a part of her own house. And he even called himself her boyfriend. Had she been dreaming and woken up to a life she couldn't remember? Had she died and so this was her second life?

"You must have hit your head harder than I thought," he laid his hand on the top of her head and pet her with caution. "Let me get you something," he went to the bureau and opened the top drawer, pulling out a silver picture frame, "This should help your memory," he handed her the picture and placed himself next to her, crossing his arms over his chest.

She looked down at the picture, it was a picture of them lying together. Phil had one arm around her and the other seemed to be holding the camera. Her head rested on his shoulder and it looked like she was sleeping. Phil was looking at her, the smile on his lips beaming with love. She ran a finger over the clean glass. The picture was so peaceful and you could tell that they were in love. It also seemed like it had been taken not so long ago. She looked down at herself and then back at the picture, the red nightdress she was wearing was the same as the on in the picture, what a coincidence?

"So, do you remember anything?" he asked and sat down beside her again. She turned her head to look at him and noticed that the smile hadn't left his face ever since he first started smiling. She shook her head slowly and turned her attention back to the picture, looking at it with eyes filled with longing.

"I don't remember anything... Nothing," she whispered and let her index finger run along the pattern that was cut in the wood, which the silver frame was made of. Phil lay his fingers on her chin and cheek, pushing her head back in his direction. He didn't speak till his eyes locked with hers.

"I'm here to save you, Rose," suddenly he sounded dead serious and there wasn't the barest hint of a smile any more. Her gut wrenched whenever he called her Rose. Something was not right, her name wasn't Rose, it was Eve. It really was, wasn't it? And what about the saving part. What was he rescuing her from?

"My name is Eve," staring into his eyes gave her very mixed feelings. She felt comfortable, but still a small part of her was uncomfortable. She felt safe, though she wanted to get up and run for her life. Something was keeping her, something was holding her back. His eyes were so convincing... so reassuring.

"Your name is Rose. You live here together with me, your boyfriend... You know that... I know you know."

"But-"

"It was a dream. Whatever you remember was a dream, don't believe it," he interrupted her, staring intensely at her with widened eyes, "But don't worry, I'm here to help you, I'm here to help you out of this unfair position you have been put in."

"I don't understand?" was she losing it? She only remembered a little, but it was like it had taken place in a whole other world. She had had a family and life was about love and having fun. She didn't recognize this world, what was it about? What was meant to happen to her?

"Come with me," and with that being said he grabbed her hand and dragged her to her feet. He took her to what she assumed was the living room. There was a TV, a green couch and a huge bookcase, which was as long as the wall itself. It was filled with books. Small books, big books, thin books and thick books. Books in all the different colors you could possibly imagine. And in the other end of the room was a long-case clock.

The walls were painted dark red and the carpet was grey and old, though so very clean. The doors, skirting boards and window frames were made of dark/red mahogany. The atmosphere was kind of old, but it only made the room even more nice and cozy.

Phil walked to one of the windows and looked out at his blossoming garden. He motioned for Rose to come join him, without even turning to look at her. She walked up to him to look out of the window too. There was lots of Japanese cherry trees in full blossom, along with hundreds of flowers, which came in different shapes and colors. Not only was there an incredible view over Phil's perfect garden, there also was an amazing view over the beach and crystalline sea.

"Wow, this is beautiful," she said without being able to take her eyes of the fine view.

"Mmm..." he mumbled, almost humming the sound, "It is beautiful, indeed... Just like you, Rose," he said and turned toward her. She looked up at him and he sent her a lovable smile.

"Really?"

"Really," he stated, taking her hand and staring intensely into her eyes, like he had done earlier, "That's why you must die," his words didn't even scare her. For some odd reason she was perfectly calm. His eyes were already like a drug to her, they made her muscles relax and made everything inside her head spin around. He told the truth. He was her truth.

"Why?" she asked in an almost childish tone. She didn't like to question him, but she was curious. He didn't get mad though, he just smiled wider and lay a hand on her shoulder.

"You don't belong here. Earth isn't the place for you to live. You will never be treated the way you should, people will take advantage of you, they'll use you..." he paused and nodded slowly before continuing, "Your beauty isn't a blessing, it is a curse... Therefore you must go, it's for your own good," she looked at him with widened eyes, it was almost like she was in a trance, like she was being hypnotized. She nodded too and took a step closer to him.

"I don't belong here," she repeated after him... His voice was so transfixing, she could listen to it all day long.

"All beauty must die, Rose."

"But I don't know what to do, will you help me?"

"Of course, that's what I'm here for..." he ran his fingers through her long, golden brown hair, feeling the bump on the back of her head, "One week exactly... That's when you'll join the rest."

"Thank you," she whispered, not knowing what she was signing up for. All she knew was that he was unbelievable convincing.

Her name was Rose and she lived with her boyfriend Phil, how could she forget? Eve Torres didn't exist, she never had and she never would. She was pure imagination. Rose didn't understand at first, but now she did. It was all very clear to her. She had hit her head so badly that she passed out. When she woke up that morning, she remembered a dream, a very convincing dream. A dream where she was a normal girl called Eve, but the truth was she was so much more. She was one of the few beauties in the world and Phil was sent to help her with getting to where she really belonged.

Rose lived an almost ordinary life for the next week. Phil and her went out in their garden everyday to take care of it and enjoy the refreshing sea air. Phil brought her one red rose everyday at midnight, but at the seventh day, he brought her a white instead.

"Time has come, my love," he said and laid her on a red blanket, which he had spread over a float of wood. The gramophone stood not far from them and it was playing a beautiful yet sad melody. She looked up at him and smiled, she was scared, but she was ready.

"Thank you for everything," she whispered and bit her bottom lip, "I'm scared." He chuckled and leaned forward to place a kiss on her lipstick red lips.

"Don't be," he whispered as the long-case clock struck midnight. He grabbed his knife, pressing it against her neck, slowly cutting deeper and deeper into her. She closed her eyes and bore the pain without flinching. A trail of blood ran down her neck and down on the blanket, which absorbed it quickly.

He got up on his feet and looked down at his beautiful masterpiece: "I'll never forget you," he whispered and bent down to plant the white rose between her teeth.

Phil walked around the graveyard with seven white roses in his hand. It had been a week since he sent Rose off to a better place, therefore he decided to visit the ones he still loved and never had forgotten about.

An undertaker stood by a huge tombstone, he looked despairing.

"Is something wrong?" Phil asked the undertaker, who turned to look at Phil.

"Oh well, I was just thinking about how the life of this poor girl ended," he answered and sighed loudly.

"What happened?" the undertaker got eye contact with Phil, his eyes were close to burning in anger.

"Some psychotic serial killer kidnapped and killed her, before using her for some insane ritual! He slit her throat and dumped her into the sea... At least that is what the police says. She was just buried today," Phil sent him a sympathetic smile and nodded.

"I can't believe anyone would do something like that, it's tragic."

"It sure is! Oh well, I have to get back to work. Have a nice day," the undertaker said, before leaving Phil to himself. Phil looked at the tombstone engraving.

"R.I.P Eve Torres, 1984-2011

A dearly beloved daughter and friend"

-it said. A smile slowly formed on Phil's lips.

"I brought you a rose, Rose," he said and placed a white rose in front of the tombstone, "Now may you rest in peace," that was the last thing he said, before he walked to six other tombstones and did the exact same thing.

Okay, I really don't know if I like this or not.. I don't think I have ever written anything like it, it's really weird.. I guess it's the kind of story you either hate or love... Or don't understand, since I don't know what the hell I think of it myself xD The idea seemed good when I first got it, but when I started writing it, it became this weird, weird... thing?..

Oh well, oh well... I'll just have to live with that xD..

Please review and tell me what you think of it, I really need your opinion on this one!

(And yes, I didn't give you his background history and so on, on purpose.. I like stories where you get to imagine those things yourself.. Like why did he actually do it? That's up to you to decide, so PLLEEEEAASE, don't ask questions like that 'cause I can NOT answer them.. I can only tell you what I think.)

The story was inspired by the song: Where The Wild Roses Grow, by Kylie Minogue and Nick Cave.