Winter in July
It was sweltering hot outside. Sunlight beat down on the Shire Mercilessly, as it had been doing for the past week now. The immense heat left the air heavy, and no hobbits were in the mood for work. In fact, most were inside, trying to cool off with a block of ice or two.
But a certain Rosie Cotton was one of the few still outside. She sat between rows in a field of wheat that was part of her family's farm. She sat there without any shade, taking the burning brunt of the sun's rays.
Her long, bouncy curls were hot on the back of her neck, and her skirts stuck to her body uncomfortably. Sweat hung on her temples as well, but she took no notice of any of these things. She was far to deep in thought; the outside world meant nothing to her.
The image of a certain gardener kept dancing across her mind. Every time she closed her eyes, there he was, brown eyes shining, smiling that lopsided grin she adored.
"Oh Sam," she whispered sorrowfully. "Samwise Gamgee. Why did you ever have to leave?" A small sob escaped her throat.
Rosie had heard rumors about Sam's fate from her brothers. He had been seen entering the Old Forest along with his companions: Frodo Baggins, Meriadoc Brandybuck, and even little Peregrin Took. But that was months ago. Now the rumors were gone. It was a well-known fact throughout the Shire that the four hobbits were dead.
"Why didn't I ever tell you how I felt?" she wondered aloud. Tears and beads of sweat mixed, making it impossible to decipher which there was more of. "I love you Samwise Gamgee! I love you with all my heart!" By now, she was sobbing uncontrollably.
Rosie lay back on the sun-baked ground and took a deep breath. She closed her eyes and tried to remember all the times she had spent together with Sam. Of course, the memories always started out with her brothers, and sometimes Sam's siblings being there. But somehow, more and more often, Sam and Rosie had found a way to sneak off alone. Oftentimes they would just sit and talk about anything ranging from the weather to tales of Elven lore. Other times, they would simply sit in silence, looking at the beautiful landscape, taking comfort in each other's presence.
She wasn't quite sure when she had stopped liking him as a friend and started loving him. All she knew was that one day, she suddenly found herself drawn to his soft-looking lips. She suddenly found herself wanting to kiss him -- which was quite a startling revelation for a young hobbit lass!
She opened her eyes, tears still leaking out freely. Her heart ached like it had never ached before. She felt as though a large chunk of it was missing. A part that would only come back if her Samwise Gamgee did.
"All those times I could have told you," she went on, feeling some of the pain lift as she spoke the words out loud. "And I never did. You would have understood. I know you would have. You never laughed at my hopes, my dreams. I bet I could have told you, and you would have smiled, saying 'Now Rosie. Just what is it that you're seein' in a simple gardener like me?'"
She turned over on her stomach and her rested her head on her arms. "But I can tell you Sam, when I look at you, I see everything. With you, everything makes sense. Everything is safe. With you, I'm home." A thrill shot through her body as she suddenly remembered the time she had been brave enough to climb a tree, but had nearly fallen out. Sam had caught her around the waist and held her with tender care until she was assured that she was all right. She swore to herself that she would never forget the feel of his hands on her.
"But I'm forgetting," she cried. "I'm forgetting everything! I forget the feel of your hands, the sound of your sweet voice, the soft rumble of your singing, the sparkle in your eyes as we spoke of the elves! I'm forgetting you Sam! And I don't want to! I don't want to!" She cried and sobbed like a small child, with nothing to comfort her but the slowly fading memories of Sam.
The world around her was hot and sticky, but inside, she was freezing. An icy frost gripped her heart, and trapped her in a world of cold and despair. She couldn't escape from the heartbreak that threatened to kill her from the inside out.
"I need you Sam! I need you! But nothing cam bring you back!" She sat up and hugged herself, greatly in need of something, anything to comfort her. The memories alone were not enough.
"I don't know why you left, or where you were headed. All I know is that you've gone somewhere that I simply cannot go. I can't just walk down the lane and visit you. I can't peek around the back of Mr. Bilbo's Party Tree and find you crouching behind it in a silly game of hide-and-go-seek. If I looked up, you wouldn't be there to wipe my tears."
She gave a sigh that was interrupted by a sob. Squeezing her eyes shut, she whispered, in a much calmer, but even more desperate voice, "Sam, do you remember the time when we snuck away from everyone else to go skip rocks in the giant puddles that formed after that big storm? You threw too hard, and fell right into the puddle! Face first, no less!" She laughed suddenly, the picture of a sopping hobbit, dark blond curls hanging limply from his head, coming to mind. The laugh sounded strange, coming from her throat. She hadn't laughed in such a long time.
"And so I tried to help you up, but then you pulled me in, so we were both all wet. But neither of us really minded. I remember laughing for hours!" A smile of the likes she hadn't given for weeks lit up her face. "When we started to get cold, we finally went to go find they others. Do you remember all the things we imagined everyone would say when we finally showed up? You impression of your brother Ham was the funniest thing I had even seen! And then when we finally found them, they --" She faltered suddenly. "They. . ."
The smile faded from Rosie's face as she realized with horror that she could not recall what happened next. She sat in a shocked silence for the longest time before asking faintly, "Sam, what did they say when we came back? What did our siblings say?"
For the first time that day, there was a rustle of wind. It caressed the distressed lass's hair, and cooled her warm cheeks. "You don't remember either?" she whispered, as though her Sam had replied. She promptly began to sob again.
She needed Sam to return, but he never would. He was gone; dead in the Old Forest, where it was rumored a hobbit-eating tree lived.
"Without you Sam, I'm a wreck!" Rosie cried. "I mean, I'm out here, talking to myself!"
She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering against the cold that gripped her. "It's like winter in July, Sam. Please, why did you have to leave? There's this great gaping hole in my heart, where you used to be. How I wish you would come back!"
But Rosie knew that her pleading and wishing wouldn't bring him back. Samwise Gamgee was never coming home. He had left for a new place, never again to walk the sweet soil of Middle-earth. Never again to grace her with him presence, to play games and plant little flowers.
Sam's flowers! Rosie thought suddenly. She sprang up with a new fire surging inside her. They were like his legacy to her. She could take care of his flowers. She was sure that with them, a part of her Sam would always remain in the Shire, no matter where he was now.
He had made a special patch just for her at just beside the Cottons' quaint little farmhouse. She zipped through the rows of wheat, her skirts flapping and billowing. The rush of wind on her face dried her tears, and her cheeks were flushed with a sudden excitement. Her house was just up ahead. She would be with "Sam" in just another moment or so.
Rosie never stopped running, despite the intense heat. The reached her house and rounded the corner.
She stopped in her tracks, and the color drained from her cheeks instantly. With a horrified sob, she fell to her knees, tears forming in her eyes anew. "No," she moaned. "No, no, no."
She bent her head forward, and her curls covered her face. Sam was truly gone. The flowers he had planted especially for her were dead. Though they had once stood proud, showing off their flashy colors and magnificent petals, now they wilted, all brown and withered.
Rosie crawled forward on her knees and plucked a flower easily from the grass. She was sure that at one point, it had been a brilliant rose. Sam's words came back to her as she held the dead thing close to her wildly beating heart: "And these, here, Miss Cotton, are roses I'm plantin'. 'Specially for you. I promise to take good care of these, always and forever, so they'll never wilt. They'll always be full of color and life, as long as I'm here to say somethin' about it." Something in his voice had told her that he was exactly talking about the flowers per se.
"But you're not here to say something about it!" Rosie sobbed. "And they've wilted. They're dead, no longer full of color and life. And I know that no flower of yours would dare die if you were still around!"
Rosie sat there for the longest time, crying and hugging the flower close. Darkness began to close in around her, but she took no notice. She could only think of how she and the little flower had many similarities. They had both lost the one that gave them life, made them what they were. They both were missing something they so greatly needed.
And they were both wilted roses.
THE END
A/N: Yikes! That's depressing! Kindly review, and let me know what you think. Thank you for taking the time to read this. Your cooperation is most greatly appreciated!
It was sweltering hot outside. Sunlight beat down on the Shire Mercilessly, as it had been doing for the past week now. The immense heat left the air heavy, and no hobbits were in the mood for work. In fact, most were inside, trying to cool off with a block of ice or two.
But a certain Rosie Cotton was one of the few still outside. She sat between rows in a field of wheat that was part of her family's farm. She sat there without any shade, taking the burning brunt of the sun's rays.
Her long, bouncy curls were hot on the back of her neck, and her skirts stuck to her body uncomfortably. Sweat hung on her temples as well, but she took no notice of any of these things. She was far to deep in thought; the outside world meant nothing to her.
The image of a certain gardener kept dancing across her mind. Every time she closed her eyes, there he was, brown eyes shining, smiling that lopsided grin she adored.
"Oh Sam," she whispered sorrowfully. "Samwise Gamgee. Why did you ever have to leave?" A small sob escaped her throat.
Rosie had heard rumors about Sam's fate from her brothers. He had been seen entering the Old Forest along with his companions: Frodo Baggins, Meriadoc Brandybuck, and even little Peregrin Took. But that was months ago. Now the rumors were gone. It was a well-known fact throughout the Shire that the four hobbits were dead.
"Why didn't I ever tell you how I felt?" she wondered aloud. Tears and beads of sweat mixed, making it impossible to decipher which there was more of. "I love you Samwise Gamgee! I love you with all my heart!" By now, she was sobbing uncontrollably.
Rosie lay back on the sun-baked ground and took a deep breath. She closed her eyes and tried to remember all the times she had spent together with Sam. Of course, the memories always started out with her brothers, and sometimes Sam's siblings being there. But somehow, more and more often, Sam and Rosie had found a way to sneak off alone. Oftentimes they would just sit and talk about anything ranging from the weather to tales of Elven lore. Other times, they would simply sit in silence, looking at the beautiful landscape, taking comfort in each other's presence.
She wasn't quite sure when she had stopped liking him as a friend and started loving him. All she knew was that one day, she suddenly found herself drawn to his soft-looking lips. She suddenly found herself wanting to kiss him -- which was quite a startling revelation for a young hobbit lass!
She opened her eyes, tears still leaking out freely. Her heart ached like it had never ached before. She felt as though a large chunk of it was missing. A part that would only come back if her Samwise Gamgee did.
"All those times I could have told you," she went on, feeling some of the pain lift as she spoke the words out loud. "And I never did. You would have understood. I know you would have. You never laughed at my hopes, my dreams. I bet I could have told you, and you would have smiled, saying 'Now Rosie. Just what is it that you're seein' in a simple gardener like me?'"
She turned over on her stomach and her rested her head on her arms. "But I can tell you Sam, when I look at you, I see everything. With you, everything makes sense. Everything is safe. With you, I'm home." A thrill shot through her body as she suddenly remembered the time she had been brave enough to climb a tree, but had nearly fallen out. Sam had caught her around the waist and held her with tender care until she was assured that she was all right. She swore to herself that she would never forget the feel of his hands on her.
"But I'm forgetting," she cried. "I'm forgetting everything! I forget the feel of your hands, the sound of your sweet voice, the soft rumble of your singing, the sparkle in your eyes as we spoke of the elves! I'm forgetting you Sam! And I don't want to! I don't want to!" She cried and sobbed like a small child, with nothing to comfort her but the slowly fading memories of Sam.
The world around her was hot and sticky, but inside, she was freezing. An icy frost gripped her heart, and trapped her in a world of cold and despair. She couldn't escape from the heartbreak that threatened to kill her from the inside out.
"I need you Sam! I need you! But nothing cam bring you back!" She sat up and hugged herself, greatly in need of something, anything to comfort her. The memories alone were not enough.
"I don't know why you left, or where you were headed. All I know is that you've gone somewhere that I simply cannot go. I can't just walk down the lane and visit you. I can't peek around the back of Mr. Bilbo's Party Tree and find you crouching behind it in a silly game of hide-and-go-seek. If I looked up, you wouldn't be there to wipe my tears."
She gave a sigh that was interrupted by a sob. Squeezing her eyes shut, she whispered, in a much calmer, but even more desperate voice, "Sam, do you remember the time when we snuck away from everyone else to go skip rocks in the giant puddles that formed after that big storm? You threw too hard, and fell right into the puddle! Face first, no less!" She laughed suddenly, the picture of a sopping hobbit, dark blond curls hanging limply from his head, coming to mind. The laugh sounded strange, coming from her throat. She hadn't laughed in such a long time.
"And so I tried to help you up, but then you pulled me in, so we were both all wet. But neither of us really minded. I remember laughing for hours!" A smile of the likes she hadn't given for weeks lit up her face. "When we started to get cold, we finally went to go find they others. Do you remember all the things we imagined everyone would say when we finally showed up? You impression of your brother Ham was the funniest thing I had even seen! And then when we finally found them, they --" She faltered suddenly. "They. . ."
The smile faded from Rosie's face as she realized with horror that she could not recall what happened next. She sat in a shocked silence for the longest time before asking faintly, "Sam, what did they say when we came back? What did our siblings say?"
For the first time that day, there was a rustle of wind. It caressed the distressed lass's hair, and cooled her warm cheeks. "You don't remember either?" she whispered, as though her Sam had replied. She promptly began to sob again.
She needed Sam to return, but he never would. He was gone; dead in the Old Forest, where it was rumored a hobbit-eating tree lived.
"Without you Sam, I'm a wreck!" Rosie cried. "I mean, I'm out here, talking to myself!"
She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering against the cold that gripped her. "It's like winter in July, Sam. Please, why did you have to leave? There's this great gaping hole in my heart, where you used to be. How I wish you would come back!"
But Rosie knew that her pleading and wishing wouldn't bring him back. Samwise Gamgee was never coming home. He had left for a new place, never again to walk the sweet soil of Middle-earth. Never again to grace her with him presence, to play games and plant little flowers.
Sam's flowers! Rosie thought suddenly. She sprang up with a new fire surging inside her. They were like his legacy to her. She could take care of his flowers. She was sure that with them, a part of her Sam would always remain in the Shire, no matter where he was now.
He had made a special patch just for her at just beside the Cottons' quaint little farmhouse. She zipped through the rows of wheat, her skirts flapping and billowing. The rush of wind on her face dried her tears, and her cheeks were flushed with a sudden excitement. Her house was just up ahead. She would be with "Sam" in just another moment or so.
Rosie never stopped running, despite the intense heat. The reached her house and rounded the corner.
She stopped in her tracks, and the color drained from her cheeks instantly. With a horrified sob, she fell to her knees, tears forming in her eyes anew. "No," she moaned. "No, no, no."
She bent her head forward, and her curls covered her face. Sam was truly gone. The flowers he had planted especially for her were dead. Though they had once stood proud, showing off their flashy colors and magnificent petals, now they wilted, all brown and withered.
Rosie crawled forward on her knees and plucked a flower easily from the grass. She was sure that at one point, it had been a brilliant rose. Sam's words came back to her as she held the dead thing close to her wildly beating heart: "And these, here, Miss Cotton, are roses I'm plantin'. 'Specially for you. I promise to take good care of these, always and forever, so they'll never wilt. They'll always be full of color and life, as long as I'm here to say somethin' about it." Something in his voice had told her that he was exactly talking about the flowers per se.
"But you're not here to say something about it!" Rosie sobbed. "And they've wilted. They're dead, no longer full of color and life. And I know that no flower of yours would dare die if you were still around!"
Rosie sat there for the longest time, crying and hugging the flower close. Darkness began to close in around her, but she took no notice. She could only think of how she and the little flower had many similarities. They had both lost the one that gave them life, made them what they were. They both were missing something they so greatly needed.
And they were both wilted roses.
THE END
A/N: Yikes! That's depressing! Kindly review, and let me know what you think. Thank you for taking the time to read this. Your cooperation is most greatly appreciated!