BLANK ROSES.(A GHOST’S STORY)
I wrecked his heart. I ripped his love. I murdered him. He never bought me Roses. He never kissed me. We never danced under the rain. We never gazed at stars. I begged him to listen, I begged him to know what love means to me but he refused. So on the day he tore my heart, I took his life. I poisoned him. I put it in his food for a month and had him eat my poison.
I dressed him for work on April the 13th, He gave me a hug,a kiss and danced to Chris D’burgh’s Lady in Red with me.
They said it happened at the shopping mall,he had held his stomach and moved towards his car,when he slumped. I arrived at the hospital but I never met him breathing. They said his intestines were rotten and he wouldn’t have survived it. Said he died from Intestinal Rupture and internal bleeding. He had a ring in his left pocket, A bunch of Roses in his right hand and a satisfied smile on his lips. And he had an incomplete note for a lady named Malik.
I drowned in tears that night, I ate grimly the velvety bitterness of my heart, I drank the crimson colour of my screams and slept in the creamy colour of satisfaction. In my dreams that night I saw crosses, mounds,sand storms and heard him screaming, almost like a whisper but I couldn’t make out what he said. He wore a Red cloak and held roses, his tears were petals and his words gave out airy tufts of palms.
I walked into the chapel in a white seraphic dress coated with pearls and glittering silver sequins. My skin was toned to a bronze cast. I held in my hands Daffodils. I didn’t want Roses for my wedding. Roses had a bad omen with it. After killing Sadiq I never wanted having anything to do with Roses. And for a man like Soji, he deserved everything. Everything good and anything that will make me look at the starry future with hope and pride. Soji was dressed in a purple tuxedo with black Italian shoes to match. He looked radiant as he smiled lovingly at me, walking down the aisle.
Soji took my hands and mouthed lovingly the words “I love you”.
I wouldn’t need to kill him because here was a man who understood what love, truth, and lies mean to me.
I wouldn’t need to die for anything that wasn’t worth it. We turned to face the priest but in his place was Sadiq, he held out the note I saw in his left pocket the day he died. I read it but the words were still the same. He turned the other side and it read ” KILAM”. I had read the note the wrong way, I was the recipient. He had meant everything to surprise and humour me. He had loved me, it was that he couldn’t say it. He smiled bitterly and handed me the Red Roses. The Roses were now blank and held no meaning for me. It didn’t mean love or a Red loving heart, it meant nothing, unfathomable stuffs, and a grimy heart.
I thought no further as I gathered my dress and fled my wedding. I got into a cab and fled to my house. Fear and Sadness had masked my face.
That day, foot steps thundered into my house. Soji and my brides maid met me crying profusely. I had better die than live with this torture.
“Excuse me”. I said. ” one last thing “. I was swifter than them because in a flash I had drilled the knife into my tell tale heart.
So as sweet inescapable sleep filled my eyelids, the pain seized, flowing out of me was my crimson blood forming a pool all around me. In a glimpse I saw Soji and Shola my Bridesmaid staring in disbelief, pain before letting out a scream mingled with cries. The velvety darkness engulfed me, drowning away everything and taking me to drifty clouds filled with multi colored stars. I closed my eyes and stepped into a velvety dark bliss.
There were no notes or clues pertaining to my death, and like Sadiq I made my memory,my existence and my death blank. Blank as the Roses on his death bed.
And if your reading this tell Soji, that there are no Roses or Daffodils here. Tell him that I only get to see birches. And if I get to pass into the world someday I will sing him Enya’s Only Time, dance, and cry with our tears being a torrent of storms.
For Roses are blanks, love is clueless but pain is bliss for only when we get to feel it, will we know what love is.
I murdered me, I killed me. And till I sit and shall stand, I won’t have Roses for Love.
Sadiq is coming now, he is with a guitar, I won’t dance to it. Wait! I implore you, till I get him to tell me about his kind of Love in the world we left behind.
Damilola is a content curator and creator, he writes for the passion and the thrill. He has been published on Tuck Magazine, SGNT, VivaNaija and also shares some of his stories on jonathanoladeji.com. He has an eye for juicy content and loves to make brand ideas sell.