This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

The Choice

© 2008 by the author (anonymous by request) in association with Daylor and Sheldon Publishing™

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A/N: This just hit me. I don't know where it came from, but it demanded writing. So I did, and I share with you all. I warn you though, you will be confused. Take it slowly and see if you can figure it out. If not, I'll be happy to explain.

No note at the end. This is another of the powerful ones that shouldn't be interrupted by me. I shouldn't have even said anything here… Okay. On with the show!


The Choice

The sun is different. I don't know why. But as it beats down upon my neck and highlights the roses before me, somehow there is not as much warmth in the rays.

A love affair…

I yank a rose from a bush with some trouble. The stem is quite thick, and now jagged and bleeding. The petals are ever so slightly damp, but the leaves not as moist as they should be at this time of year.

Losing the passion…

I cannot name the type of rose, but its petals are many and compacted together, all fighting for their own glimpse of light. They are pale pink. But the color is not very saturated.

Return is impossible…

I press the heavy bloom to my lips, feeling the cool velvet of it as I move it back and forth across my mouth. But after a moment, it is my dry lips that I feel more than the softness of the flower.

And then love is dead.

But not by choice. It was stolen by another. Until avarice and the desire to possess the other became the dominating emotion, and indeed both were consumed by it.

And now they are dead.

She comes out to greet me, a sad smile on her face. She moves like an angel, gliding over the path to my side as if she were treading upon a cloud.

What of my love?

Less than one month…it has been exactly twenty days, and still it feels like yesterday. She knows of course. I see it in her eyes.

Stolen from me…

Her warm hands cover my cold ones as her sad blue eyes look up at me. The rose is between us, like a wall keeping out all trespassers. But she is no longer one of them.

Never realized…

I slowly lower the rose to my side, her hands leaving mine as I move. I feel a sudden rush, like part of my spirit left me as her hands did. Just as when he did.

But did know of death…

I fall into her embrace and let flow the tears. I had not cried, even when I had every opportunity, every excuse. But it meant nothing if no one understood.

How can one understand darkness but not light?

The tempter had been cruel, drawing the prey as a spider to the web. The seducing darkness entwining through the soul and drawing them further and further away to a place I could not reach.

I saw the evil fire that last time and knew in my heart it was over, though I couldn't admit it to myself then. I wouldn't.

How could I have seen fire but not raised the cry?

"John…" she says, and I drop the rose. I swear I can hear it hit the stones, "It will be okay…I promise you."

She cannot promise that. Even now, knowing, she cannot promise that. I'm not sure…if she truly knows. But I can let her in now. No walls any longer. I don't want them.

Friday the twenty-fourth…

"Mary, I—" my voice breaks. What can I say anyway? There is no way to explain. How can one define love? One can only know from feeling it, and then losing it…how I am feeling.

Thirty days since I saw the fire…

"It will be okay," she weeps, her own voice breaking as she buries her face into my chest. I can feel her fingers gripping tighter into the clothing on my back. She acts as if…

Monday the fourth…

I pull away, the flow of my tears halting as I look into her liquid eyes. It's true. She does know. But how? How can she possibly understand? No one ever has.

Only ten days between…

"I'm sorry," I hear myself say, "I should have told you."

"I wouldn't have understood then. I do now." Her words confirm it, as does the sincerity and pain in her eyes. Of Heaven, I know she understands. But of Hell…

Three lives were lost then.

I gave to her!

No, four.

What have I done? I've done it from the beginning! With the first kiss and every touch, I had been the tempter, the seducer. Luring her to a place she did not understand, but love compelled her to follow.

Continuing with envy…

Was love that blinding? That we had both fallen into the trap? But no, not just the two of us. For I was a victim as well. The second victim.

Desperate to win…

The first had been defeated. Dead and lost forever in memory. And I was still being drawn in! I could not let a dead threat defeat me.

We were all linked, and the first two were broken. Two left, still drawn in by the power of love. But we have the opportunity to sever the link permanently.

And seeing the truth too late.

The world is dying with me. Just as a rose loses its petals, each day that I go deeper in my own extensions wither. I had not noticed the silence.

But there is nothing left. Even the sun deserts me now, and threatens to take her. To disappear behind the clouds of my despair awaiting conclusion.

But I see the truth in time.

"I love you. You and only you, until eternity," I whisper. My words are lost on the breeze.

Do I break?