White Roses

Dust has quietly gathered on the sordid window pane; ivy leaves clasped tightly the railings and the translucent glass. She sat quietly on a tattered couch listening to the gentle pitter-patter outside, eyes stuck on the rhythm of the falling tender droplets. Her heart ached. A vision of a vase of white roses flooded her eyes, petals fell on the table adorned in white under an open window gleaming with a full moon’s night; a heavy breath came out along with the last fallen petal. Suddenly, her sight blurred with tears swelling up her eyes; pain smooched her lips. No album, no photos on her cell phone, no evidence...but there is love, too ardent to be discarded as a dream...yet all were dreams... The last bell rang. She got an A+ again.Michelle knows Mia will not speak to her again this week. It’s not like Michelle always intends to score this well, she only cares about their parents expectations. Her eyes lingered on the newly built apartment, freshly painted. The corners of her lips twitched slightly as she quickly pulled out the sketchbook from her schoolbag. Her eyes were set on it from the time the construction work started, i.e., a year back. The last orange light of twilight adorned the rough edges of her sketch, messy from erasing a lot. It’s time to go back.She tore off the page;her eyes glanced at it with utter dissatisfaction before crumbling it under her palm and letting it end up in the dustbin.When it comes to sketching, she seeks perfection.So, at least fifty pages are expected to see the darkness of the dustbin before her heart is truly satisfied and something remarkable is created. The profound crimson of the twilight intermixing shades of orange and a light sensitive yellow along with the perfect breeze that gently swept past her had conquered her joy in that moment of silence.Walking down the way back home, she hummed a sweet melody of love completely unaware that something strange, unique and beautiful will happen. That night was nothing unusual.Michelle flipped through the pages of an old book; her most cherished possession.It was handed over to her by her grandmother before death. After her granny's death, it's the first time Michelle dared to read it.Being an extremely old book, it's pages were yellowish and sometimes even torn; it's rather a diary than a book, everything in it was handwritten. The content was barely readable.Whatever she could make out of it seemed more like a narrative than an actual diary entry; it has chapters.The first chapter she came across is called, "The night on the wooden bridge". The next thing that happened is extremely unexpected.The ink began to dissapear; letters blurred and vanished as she tried to read as though they never existed.