Red Roses

Everything had changed on that warm autumn day. It was that type of day where everything was a shade of red, orange or yellow. Even the floor was coated in the embers of the season, spilling like molten gold over my combat boots as the wind blew. If it wasn't for the fact that the gust blew off my beanie, maybe I never would have noticed her. Sitting alone, a slightly skinny girl sat by the flower garden, a few metres from my path.

She looked up when she saw my hat brush past, searching for the owner with her chocolate-coloured eyes so out of place in the landscape. The trees hid me but still gave me enough of a view to see her clearly. Funnily enough, her fire coloured hair put the place to shame. Her hands grasped the hat, looked around once more and slipped it on. She shivered, although still she smiled at the buds around her.

Something about her made me want to keep the girl safe. She looked a few years younger than me - sixteen maybe - but there was something about her that made me feel empty. Maybe it was the fact that her black, mud-caked converse were falling apart or that the rest of her clothes looked like they found their way out of the lost and found.

Whatever it was, I found myself creeping around until sunset, watching her as she continued to sit. Every now and again, she would look up to see the sky shift in colour and her face fell that little bit more. I debated offering her a hand or a hug but that would be weird. Mentally, I slapped myself. Creeping on her was okay then?

Eventually, she took a deep breath as the sky turned violet. Reluctantly, she got up and moaned from the cramp she must of had from sitting too long. I followed her through the woods toward the entrance, keeping my distance. I passed the gates and decided to stop being a twat. She went a different way to me and there was no chance I was going out of my way to stalk a pretty girl home.

I took one last glance behind me; the girl pulled her jacket tighter around her and continued to walk, the beanie still on her head. When I got home, I felt the need to hit something a few times. I couldn't believe I was such a freak as to watch her for hours.

Needless to say, the next day after work, I found myself subconsciously walking back to the same place as yesterday. I couldn't help but feel a warm glow in my chest upon seeing her red hair and beanie. I circled around the trees and stopped dead when I saw her face. There was clearly a fresh bruise on her cheek in the outline of fingers.

The girl smiled sadly at the roses, trying to wipe away the brown patches on the petals and frowning slightly when it didn't work. They were dying, starting to wilt and she wasn't helping them. They were red.

Surprisingly, the girl opened her mouth and started to sing with a cracked yet angelic voice.

"I'm strong on the surface,

Not all the way through.

I've never been perfect,

But neither have…"

She stopped. Standing up, she started to growl. And cry. And yell. In an instant, she managed to slam her fists repeatedly into the bark until they were bloody and battered. I could have stepped in but I was frozen in shock. It wouldn't have been appropriate anyway. She needed space.

She started to choke back screams as she sobbed harder, gripping the tree for support until her fingers went white. Over and over, she chanted, "it won't happen again." She kept up the chant until her sobs calmed and she convinced herself of it.

What the heck had happened to her? I mean, I had some ideas but they were things I refused to think about. She probably fell into her crush or something and his hand was the only thing that could break her fall. I knew some of my gender were idiots, but surely none would hurt her on purpose.

Before I considered myself to be a pervert or something along those lines, I bid her a silent goodbye and walked to the corner shop. Strangely, I bought two cokes and bags of sweets instead of my usual one. It wasn't until I saw the flash of red walk past me that I left the treats by the flowers in the woods.

Somehow, I managed to stay away from the forest for a few weeks until I couldn't contain my frustration any longer. It wasn't until late, way past the time she would've normally gone home, that I arrived. I expected the redhead to have left. But she was still there, a blank look on what I thought was her face.

Yeah. That's right. I couldn't tell. It was black and blue and her hair looked dull and unwashed. By the way she cradled her arm, it was definitely injured. This was no accident. I wanted to get her some help, get her away from whatever did this. This wasn't some stupid crush I had on her, it was concern for another human being. But I was a stranger. She wouldn't accept my help anyway.

To be honest, I found it harder to walk away. And still, I managed it, feeling guiltier with every step I took away from her. I could help her. But I wouldn't. Why? I vowed to help her the next day. I bought painkillers from the shop, along with my fully charged phone and food.

When I got there, she lay, slumped against the tree. Eyes blank and staring with blood dripping from her nose. I wondered why she didn't wipe it away. I felt rude for interrupting and took a step closer. Each step was like walking through drying cement but went easier on my conscience.

"Um, are you okay?" Stupid question, dumbass. Of course she wasn't okay; the blood and bruises weren't exactly a dead giveaway. I waited for a few seconds. She hadn't blinked or flinched at my presence at all.

I frowned and got closer. "Hello?" Nothing.

I knelt in front of her and placed my hand before her mouth that was slightly open. No warm breath touched my hand. I started to panic. No breathing. I frantically searched for a pulse along her neck but my fingers stumbled and I had no clue what I was doing. There was nothing to go by except the cold of her body and the dulled out eyes that were no longer the vibrant green.

I fumbled for my phone and dialed an ambulance, the beeps were too long and they took forever to pick up. Apart from the crushing guilt that loomed over my chest, I could only look at the dead roses surrounding her body.

I had essentially killed her.

I didn't even know her name.

The ambulance came but I didn't even notice their arrival. My eyes hadn't strayed from the roses. Someone pronounced her dead. Someone recognised her as Ichigo. Just Ichigo. The woman who recognised her immediately said something about an alcoholic father and non-existent mother but I wasn't listening.

I could've done something.

Ichigo would still be alive. Just like those roses.

Stupid boy.