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A Rose for Danielle

Danielle had taken to writing love letters to Jared in her notebook. She had started when she had first realized that she was in love with him. Now, if only she had the courage to send them to him…

She touched her feather quill to her nose, careful not to get any ink on her face. She wondered if there was a way to send the leather notebook of love notes to him. To be honest, Danielle wasn’t even sure if he knew her name. But next week, her family would be moving to a different military base. Surely she had nothing to lose now?

Gathering her courage and determination, she found a box that was about the right size and tenderly placed the worn old notebook inside. Hopping onto her bike, she pedaled to the post office and sent off the package before she had the opportunity to chicken out.

But even for her boldness in mailing the package, Danielle paced around restlessly as she packed her things. She wondered if she had forever ruined Jared’s opinion of her by sending him those letters.

And then…

Three days later there was a knock on the door.

It took her a few minutes to wade through all of the moving boxes and reach the foyer. By the time she opened the door, the visitor had left. All that was left was a single red rose on the porch. Underneath was a folded note that read: A rose for Danielle. With love, J.

Smiling like a fool, Danielle pressed her nose into the flower and went back inside to finish packing. She felt like she was walking on clouds. There had never been a time when she had been happier.

Tay does!

im writing mine

An open brown leather journal sat on the table, the righthand corner lightly charred. It was the only thing that had survived the fire that took Jackson's family four months ago. It was his great, great, great grandmothers apparently and he knew that his parents would want him to look after it.

Reading it gave him a look into his families past. It was interesting to read about how she had lived. Once he had finished the journal he was going to seal it in a safe and bury it out on Quartz Hill.

Two weeks late and he was reading the last entry.

19th June 1936
It's Elsia's [his grandmother] 10th bithday today but I am feeling unwell. I cannot even move from my bed for I am too weak. No one can figure out what it happening to me and I fear I will die before they do. My only hope is that Henry [Jackson's grandfather] will look after Elsia. I think this will be my last entry and I hope that this journal is passed down through the generations. I have told Elsia to keep my journal safe and I believe she will.
So Elsia, my dear, keep this close to you and pass it down to you children and tell them to pass it to theirs.
I hope you get everything you want out of your life and remember:
Only those who dare to dream can make a dream come true.

Love
Anastasia

Jackson made his own entry with a quill and ink. He wrote about what happened to his parents and his brother. He wrote about his future and his dreams.
When he was finished he buried it up on Quartz hill and placed a single red rose on top.

The journal is still there today - waiting for someone to dig it up and read it.

I sat along the wooden table.With me my family heirloom, the brown,tattered leather journal.It was time to reveal it's secrets.On the first page in neat writing written in quill was the title Flowers.I flipped through the pages and found that on each page there was a flower.Some were drawn others described very well in delicate writing. Some had pictures glued on to the pages.There were Tulips and Roses and every other kind of flower you couldn't imagine. In each one written in quill was a mood that the flower represented.I had an idea.I bought out my quill and ink and lade it on the table.I picked a red rose from my garden and carefully placed it inside the next empty page of the journal.Underneath it i wrote Love.Love for i had for the journal for my family.I wrote my name,Violet.Then i put the journal in a place somewhere no one but i knew in hope that my daughter would one day find it and continue to do what we have done for years.

Peace Will Rule For Certain

Seren found herself in a dark and cold chamber tucked deep into the ground, under the academy for amateur Mages. Or really experienced Mages passing by and seeking a shelter. Seren fell into the second category, but that wasn't completely right, either. She was a Mage, heading home to her Guild, but needing a place to rest. And since this little academy was lonely enough to open their gates for dangerous Mages like her, she kindly took the offer. But it seemed like this academy was more than just a sole building standing in the middle of nowhere.

Seren was a Seer Mage, able to feel and see things even other Mages couldn't. And she had the bad feeling down in her gut about this academy's underground chambers. So here she was, taking cautious steps towards the only standing thing in the bare room, supposedly a library. Resting on a short pillar carved into a hunched fairy, was an ancient looking tome, resting on the back of one of the fairy's wings. A dozen locks held the tome shut to humans and awfully pathetic Mages, but for Seren, it was child's play. Fishing out a long and delicate looking quill from one of her cloak's inner pockets, Seren drew opening runes over every one of the locks' bodies. With each finished rune came a satisfying click, signifying the defeat of the locks.

After the twelfth click's echoes drained away, eerie silence took its place, accompanied by the constant flickering of the four fire-lit torches around the chamber. They weren't bright enough to light up the whole room, and darkness still owned this tome's prison. Swallowing down her suddenly dry throat, Seren feared the worst. She could almost see the evilest auras of Magic pouring out of the worn and crispy pages. But Seren was a Mage of Bravery for a reason. Her hand found the tome's cover and she gently parted it with its good friend, the first page.

Which was a blank page. Allowing the front cover to drop onto the other fairy's wing, Seren narrowed her eyes at the page. Was she missing something? Damn the darkness. She put the quill's tip to the page and started a Seer's rune: the Teller of Secrets. It would reveal everything about that page, it couldn't be blank. No tomes had an entirely blank page unless used for evil. Blankness and nothing usually represented peace to the darker ones. Seconds ticked by as Seren awaited for her rune to reveal something, but nothing arose from the paper.

This was truly a Dark To-

A rose appeared, rising from the surface of the parchment like a body rising to the surface of water. Quickly, Seren snatched it up to examine it. But the moment her long fingers brushed against the rose's perfectly scarlet petals, her whole body when numb, she couldn't feel a single cell. Then the world seemed to shoot upwards. Or was she just falling to the floor? She never knew her eyes could grow blind from the numbness but they did. The torches were going out as the darkness was swallowing swallowed her as a whole.

The last thing Seren heard was, "There's a fine line between bravery and stupidity, Seren the Seer. Thank you for the latter when you so foolishly released the most evilest of them all. See, you shouldn't underestimate the symbol of love just as you shouldn't underestimate that dominating feeling itself. When you wake up, little Mage, which I really doubt you will, tell your little friends that it's their choice: freedom or peace? And when I take the crown, peace will rule for certain."

I stare ahead for what feels like years. For as far as my blurred sight can see, trees line the dirt road that lies ahead of me, their branches swinging violently. I rub my hand against the wheel in front of me, it's leather surface smooth and cool against my sweaty, calloused palm. Finally, I let out a soft sigh and unbuckle the seat belt that had saved me that night. I open my door and step outside into the harsh cold. Immediately a strong gust of wind pushes against me, almost as if it wishes to snap me in two. At this point, I wouldn't mind being given a break from reality, even if it were to be a permanent one. I slowly start to trudge forward. I am still wearing my short black dress that reaches just at my knee with a black coat that gives my upper half some warmth. Even though it is absolutely freezing outside, I would never know due to the fact that I had long ago lost all feeling of my body. My feet that had lazily slipped into a pair of black ballet flaps accidentally steps into a puddle and it is then that I finally become fully aware of my surroundings. I know tears are welling in my eyes as I look around once again, even though I am not able to feel them. Even as they slip down my rosy cheeks. Even as they fall between my parted lips.

I come to a stop at a place that I know all too well. I wish I had never been here, I wish I hadn't been here that night. I am vaguely aware as my body slips down and takes a seat on the dusty, dark pathway. I hear a loud gasp and eventually realize the only person it could have come from was me. I am sobbing, my heart breaking in two all over again. I reach into the little black bag that I carry around with me everywhere. My hand comes across a smooth, leather surface and I take out my brown notebook. As I look at the pages I had written in only days before, I notice the smeared ink that must have been caused by the droplets falling from my face. I trace my fingers along the forever crippled spots that must have had one too many tears fall upon it. The last time I had written in here, was the day after.

To this day, I can still remember everything that happened that night. I remember how he handed me a delicate, red rose that smelt like sunshine, because he knew how much I loved them. I remember how we thought we ruled the world, thought we were invincible. I remember how we had celebrated, doing things we knew we shouldn't. I remember how we laughed as we climbed into my parents car. I remember the look on our faces as we saw the dark figure up ahead. I wonder, if they knew, if they knew what I was to do, I wonder if they would hate me. If they hadn't gone the instant of the impact, if they were aware as I starred down at their bodies, I wonder if they would forgive me. If they would blame me. A pain starts to swell in my chest as I realize I will never know.

I remember being happy. It was probably the happiest I had ever been in my life. Being with the people I held most dear. As I sit here, on this old street that nobody ever comes across anymore, I stare down at the paper.

It is then, that I realize I hadn't finished. I need to get this down before it is too late. Before I join them.

Before I even know what I am doing I dash into my car and drive home. I step into my room and nearly break apart as I see the withered and crumpled red rose lying on my desk. Not too long ago, it had been beautiful. As I catch a glance at my reflection; my pale skin more white than usual, the dark bags under my eyes, my body already looking thiner, my thick brown hair an oily mess, I can't help but think, not too long ago, I had been beautiful too.

I push my thoughts aside as I make my way to my desk and push the small, dead flower away. Then, I dip my feathered quill into some ink, open up my notebook, and write down my last words;

'But that was when I had been happy. Because, I hadn't known what was to come. I hadn't known, all that I would lose. Them, and myself.'

oh my...Sami that is AMAZING! you should turn that into a story!!