Wilted Rose - Chapter 1

Wilted Rose

Love is more important than life it self

Chapter 1:
1923

Elizabeth

The tiny water droplets splashed against the window and slid slowly down. The millions of shiny liquid drops created a beautiful effect, like a stain glass window. When the blinding light flashed through the grey clouds high above, it caused the droplets to glow, like a thousand diamonds sparkling. I stared out beyond the cliff at the waves crashing against the jagged rocks, slowly eroding the towering mountain. Finally, as I heard the sky rumble like a growling lion, my mother yelled up the stairs, startling me. I closed the shades, shrouding the now vacant room. The only object in the dark chamber, as I called it now, was the chair that I was kneeling on. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I attempted to stand up and started to walk, only to find myself 5 seconds later lying on the hardwood floor. I picked myself up and this time, I felt everywhere for the slightest object that might cause me to fall again. I breathed a sigh of relief as there was nothing in my way. I took a couple of baby steps towards the door, which I could vaguely see a couple of feet away. The old floor creaked underneath me as I took each step, slowly and carefully. I heard my mother call up the stairs again. But I did not reply, for I would lose my concentration, and my clumsy body would trip of the crack in the floor. The smooth silver handle touched my hand and I gasped it for balance. I turned it and heard the click of the lock. The door flew open, blinding me with the light from the surrounding room. I squinted for a second or too, allowing my eyes to adjust to the light. How long had I been in my old room? It puzzled me and I looked at my watch. It had only been 10 minutes and my weak body could not even handle that. I rolled my eyes and continued walking to the staircase.

” Elizabeth!” my mother called from the doorway. I took a deep breath and called back to her.

“I’m up here mother!”

“Oh, lord, Elizabeth, you gave me such a fright!” My mother walked into view at the bottom of the stairs. The light that flickered in the hallways enhanced her brilliant features. Her body was ta ll and slender and her skin as pale as a ghost. She was pale and her blue eyes shined, reminding me of a crystal clear ocean on a sunny summer day. At times like this, I wondered why my unknown father had run away after I was born. I always tried to imagine him, but since I was only but an infant at that time, I barely remembered his features. The only memories of him were from my mom, who I heard cry some nights for the man that she had lost. I sometimes wandered into her room, only to see her leaning over an open photo album, staring at a black and white photo of my father. Tears dotted the page and slid down the plastic, dripping off of the book as if the album was also crying. I was always tentative to even ask my mom about my father, for I was afraid she would cry once more. But one night, I finally gave in to my curiousity and asked the dreaded question. And to my surprise, a single tear did not drip down her face. Instead, she smiled and the stories started to spill out of her mouth. From was a heard, my father was handsome and a man of manners; a guy who you could rely on and was always there for you. She also said that I was a mirror image of him and I smiled,too, at that thought. One day, I would find him.

I merely smiled at my mom, for she was a big worrier. I walked by her side and placed a hand on her shoulder, which I knew would immediately signal her to give me a hug. And just as I expected, her skinny arms surrounded my body and brought me into the tender, sweet loving hug that I knew and loved. I embraced her back, and we stayed there for a couple of moments. When we finally let go, my mother eyed my body. I stared at her in confusion, but finally, she spoke.

“You’re getting so big, Elizabeth.”

“ Well, I am 14.” I replied. My mom shook her head and sighed.

“ The days are going by so fast. It seemed like only yesterday that I held you in my arms and felt your tiny beating hear against me.”

“ It’s O.K., mom. I’ll always be there.”

“ Oh, I know that, Elizabeth. But will you promise me on thing?”

“ What is it, mom?”

“ Don’t make the same mistakes that I made. Follow your heart and never, and I repeat, never give up. You got that Elizabeth?”

“Yes, mother.”

She smiled. “Good. Now we better get going.”

The thunder exploded outside, shaking the old, run down lighthouse that we called home. I was going to miss this place dearly. Outside, the lightning lit up the sky, and that was when we knew it was time to go.

I walked over to where I placed my small, brown suitcase. Before I picked it up, I eyed the room, taking it all in, locking it in the treasure chest of memories. This would be my last one here. The smell of dust filled my nose and, yet, I enjoyed that musty odor. It was the odor of home. The vacant room seemed almost haunted. I remembered then less then a week ago, this room was filled with various pieces of bright furniture. Now it was as empty as a haunted house, except for the tiny mouse that sat in the corner, eating a crumb that must have been left on the floor this morning at breakfast. I placed my hand around the smooth, leather strap of my suitcase and, with all my strength, lifted it up just enough that I could carry it. My mother, already with her things, unlocked the door for the final time and we stepped out into the aurora of a thunderstorm. I shivered slightly as the strong wind slapped my face. Behind us, the door slammed and we were forced to move on to our small, but decent sized, car. I clambered in and waited patiently for my mom, who was placing the almost flying suitcase into the trunk. Finally, after what seemed like forever, she, too, climbed into the car and started the growling engine that popped as soon as my mom stepped on the pedal and the pistons hit the machine inside. We backed out of the driveway, and I stared in awe at my little house. The beacon on top, the light that guided sailors through the night, the fire that guided my heart, had finally burned out, never to be lit again. My throat choked up and the tears ran down my face as I stared behind me at the house in the distance: my house, the house that I would never see again. Once the smell of the salty seawater was gone, I knew that we had left the little hometown I called home. My new life laid ahead of me and one person would change it for the better… and the worse.