Now you only bring me black roses,
And they crumble into dust when they're held
Now you only bring me black roses,
Under your spell
-Black Roses by Lucy Schwartz

Kate was sitting by Reggie's side once again, holding her hand in her lap. She had felt around in the dark until she found the small box of needles and thread that she needed to stich up her friends forehead. She was also able to finally find a first aid kit buried in the rubble and used its antiseptic to clean the needles and Reggie and Donald's wounds, but it seemed that someone used half of the supplies in the box some time before and never refilled it, leaving her with a bare minimum to use on them. She tried closing the gash on Reggie's forehead as best as she could and stripped her pants leg down to make a fresh new bandage around her friend's head. As she sat and settled down beside her friend, she began to feel the chunk of metal digging into her back. Before, she hadn't had time to notice the large piece lodged there, but now that she had seen it, she was suddenly very aware of its painful existence. She knew better than to pull the piece out, its painful placement meant it was keeping her from bleeding too much.

As she leaned back and rested her head on the chunk of broken wall behind her, she closed her eyes and pictured the wound as it pulsated pain through her body like a blinking caution light.

"My throat burns," Reggie said. "Anyone else's throat burning?"

"It's the cyclonite. The new chemical we've been working with. My nose is burning with it, so the air must be filled with it. It's probably why no one has come to the rescue. No one wants to be near the damn toxic stuff," Donald glumly said from his spot across the pile.

Kate thought of her friends whom she had no way of knowing was okay or not. They had all seen the safety films on what too much exposure of the gases at the factory would do to a body. What if the rest of the factory looked like the lab did and they lay trapped and helpless on the factory floor. The leaking gas could be affecting her friends as well. An image of Betty lying on the floor flashed through her mind.

"The valves for it are in here the lab, right? Couldn't we just turn them off?" Kate asked, squeezing her eyes shut to stop the image of a hurt Betty that seized her body as much as her wound did.

"Yeah, but you gotta be careful on how you turn it off. You have to slowly turn off the amatol pumps and the cyclonite valve at a consistent rate in order for it not to build up too much pressure."

"Okay, so if I find the valves and pumps… what happens if I let it off too quickly and pressure releases too fast?"

"Big Boom," Reggie said simply.

"And what happens if I do it too slowly and it builds pressure?"

"Bigger boom," Donald added.

"Well, those odds sound promising," Kate nervously said, but thought of her friends once more. Betty was out there somewhere. She had to try.

"You gonna try turning them off?" Reggie asked as Kate began to get up.

"Yeah, I can't just sit here anymore."

"Be careful."

"And don't blow us up, well, more," Donald quipped.

Kate nodded and made her way over the pile of rubble trapping Reggie, heading towards where she knew the valves once stood. As she slid down the debris, she stopped in her tracks when she landed right beside where Reggie's legs jutted out underneath the heavy concrete. Both legs were abnormally turned in the wrong direction. How had she not seen this before?

"Reggie…" she said, hoping her voice didn't sound as panicked as she felt seeing the badly twisted legs. "Your legs…"

"What about them?" The girl asked as Kate climbed up to peep over the rubble at her. "Can you see them?"

"Yeah," Kate nodded, her face gone pale. "Do they hurt?"

"No…why?" Reggie answered, worry filling her voice. "Should they?"

Kate swallowed hard and shook her head quickly. "It's probably all the concrete on top of you… cutting off the feeling to them is all. Can you move them? Wiggle your foot or something."

Reggie's brow furrowed as she concentrated on the simple task. Kate looked back down at the injured girl's legs.

"Are they moving?" Reggie asked hopefully.

Kate watched carefully for even the slightest sign of movement, but it never came. As much as her friend tried, her legs never moved an inch. Kate closed her eyes at the terrible meaning.

"Well?" Reggie asked, her voice sounding high pitch with worry. "Are they moving?"

Kate turned back towards her and put on the best smile she could muster. "Yeah…yeah. That's good, you're moving them just fine."

"Okay, good…" Reggie sighed in relief. "That's good to know."

For the first time that day, Kate was thankful for the dark environment. She didn't want her friend to see the lie in her eyes.

She started making her way towards the valves again and began to wonder how she was ever going to survive this.

The bright sunlight made Betty's eyes squint as she tried shielding the offending light with her hand while looking towards her factory.

Normally she would scoff at the idea of calling it her factory. She knew she was a hard worker, but she wasn't one for show boating or making bold claims in effort for equality. Truth was, as soon as the war was over, she and the other women who worked there would cease to matter in the grand scheme of things to the factory or, at least, that's what she had been constantly told. They were merely the placeholders until the boys came home.

"Come on," Arlene said, coming up behind Betty and grabbing her arm to pull it towards her as she walked backwards. "I think we've had enough."

"What?" Betty looked at her incredulously. "What are you doing?'

"I'm taking you home. There's nothing more you can do."

"Have you gone mad? I'm not going anywhere," Betty gritted out, wrenching her arm free.

Off the looks of Gladys and the police officers that were taking her statements, Arlene ducked her head.

"Last I remember, neither one of us were too fond of spending time with the boys in blue," she reasoned as Betty turned her attention back to the factory.

Off of Betty's silence, she rolled her eyes.

"What? You think you can just will her free?" Arlene started again, her voice growing agitated. "There's no way she survived and you standing here sulking isn't going to make that any less true."

Betty stood still, her back to the other girl, as the words cut deep.

"Did you even notice that I was gone? You haven't looked for me since you went running stupidly towards the damn blast. I mean, did you even notice that I could still been in there too?"

"Nope."

Arlene's face fell.

"Fine," She said, shaking her head as she turned to go. "Stay here with your damn factory and broken hope."

Betty didn't even turn to see the other girl leave.

This was her factory. This big damn looming building that had somehow swallowed her up with its promise of independence and taste of the future. Others may say they didn't matter to the factory in the grand scheme of things, but it matter to her. Inside its walls, she had sweated, worried, and worked harder than she had ever before. The dangers they faced each day as they walked through its doors was the price they paid to reap its liberation. And yet, ironically, now it stood with its grip on the one person in the world who made her realize just how much she craved that liberty.

Yes, it was her factory. Her freedom. Her future. Her everything.

And she had never hated it more.