I don't even know why. Let me know what you think, though.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
Yellow Roses
It was there, standing by the window, receiving the sunlight that would keep it alive.
She was there, in her bed, watching it and counting the hours it had left. Would it be a few or an eternity? She didn't know. She just knew watching it was the only thing that made sense. Waste of time, they said. You could be out there, living life, but you're still inside there wasting your days, they also said. She wouldn't want you to be like this, they even dared to say.
How would they know? She was gone. None of them could talk to her, not even Alex herself could. If she could, she would have done it by now. She wouldn't be watching it by the sunlight; she'd be admiring her by the moonlight. But she couldn't do it, not anymore at least, and she was trying to deal with it, as they were, but none of them were going to understand.
They were happy. They met by the casually of life. They might have never been meant for each other, but it surely always felt right. The connection was there, the love was there. She would come every day by her work, a yellow rose in hand because that was Alex's favorite flower, and always tell her how beautiful she looked even if she was a mess. Then, she took Alex on a date, at her own house with a dinner cooked by her, the house full of yellow roses for Alex to love. Then, it wasn't just a date, it was a life. Not one day she failed to show up with her yellow roses, not one day she failed to make her feel loved.
That was what they didn't understand. They lost a friend, yes, but she lost the safety. They would go to a warm bed every night, while she couldn't help but cry in a empty cold bed she wished she could get rid of but she couldn't. They lost a friend, yes, but she had lost the roses. Each one always meant I love you, each one always meant forever. Now, the love was gone and forever was just a word.
Nothing made sense.
She looked at it again, in a jar with water, still receiving the sunlight. She reached for her phone in the nightstand and pressed one, placing it against her ear without taking her eyes off it once. Then, she heard her and everything went black, she closed her eyes.
"Hey, baby, it's me, Mitchie. I feel terrible, you know? I know this is not your fault; I shouldn't have left like that. I love you with all my heart, Lex. I know it's late, but I'm coming home, sweetheart. Wait for me. I love you, baby, we're gonna make it through. I love you."
Alex still asked herself how did she manage to record that message without breaking down, how her voice has calmed down so much after screaming and shouting for so long. When did she stop to buy the roses? How did she even find an opened flower shop at that hour? She couldn't understand. She could only imagine what the owner of the shop or whoever gave Mitchie the flowers said to her; what Mitchie said to the owner. She could only imagine the smile plastered on Mitchie's face, as she drove home with twelve yellow roses in the seat next to her, probably imagining the words to say to Alex when she gave her the flowers. Mitchie probably never thought of what happened next, she never thought of what that was going to do to the girl she left.
Alex opened her eyes and looked at it again. The only survivor. It wasn't as pretty as the rest she got before, but it was the only reminder of the love. A few petals had been lost in the accident, just like the other eleven roses and the girl driving home. The police let her have it because they never saw someone so broken before.
They weren't going to understand. Alex missed the arms, felt like a scared child. She'd be alone from now on, just with the company of a rose that just like her, had her time counted and soon enough, it'd be gone, along with all the love.
How were they going to understand? They lost a friend, yes, but she lost everything else.
She lost her.