The Red Rosa Rubus

t’s too late. It’s just too late. I could have done something, anything just to make us feel better. I knew this was what you wanted, even though this might not be the best ending.

I have at last brought her to you on my leaden footsteps. This is the least I can do for you. Watching Acacia stepping and crushing the innocent white roses lying in front of you, I find my heart shivering uncontrollably. I grasp the stems of the white bunch of rosa rubus tightly and draw them close to my chest, as if only they could feel my pain.

Days without you, Jake, they were difficult. I dared not to look into others’ eyes more than a minute, especially Acacia’s bright, limpid eyes, they looked exactly like yours, so loving and generous. Every time when I looked into her eyes, it made me think of you, of how you used to embrace me, as if I was the only valuable possession in your whole life. You would gently stroke my hair and hold me close to your chest so that I could hide myself in your fresh aromatic embrace and listen to the great harmony of your heartbeat. Your gentle scent faded as swiftly as your footsteps, like a soft piece of allegro, sharp with no pedals. I remember, remember clearly the day before you left me. The moment when I realized that slight waver behind those gentle eyes and the unusual bright smile of yours. I should have known, should have known that you would not allow me to abandon Acacia from those sweet but heavy words of yours.

I still remembered that we were lying on the bed side by side having a little chat as usual that night.

“Fine. I would allow you to come with me, but this is not a short journey.” You turned to me and said.

“I know.”

“This will not be easy.”

“I know.”

“What about the pain that I’ll cause you? I don’t want that.”

“I know, but I insist.”

“You’re just so stubborn. Why would I have married you in the first place?” You suddenly flicked your finger on my forehead and held me close forcefully. You kept tightening your embrace as if this was the last night you would spend with me.

“Jake, are you alright?”

“Are you scared?” You loosened up your grip and looked straight at me. But almost immediately shifted your gaze to the yellow acacias on the bedside cabinet of mine, as if you were trying to hide your own uncertainties.

“How would I be scared staying with the one I loved the most?” I tried to move closer to you, but you turned your body away.

“It’s late. Let’s sleep.” You turned off the lights and the darkness slowly consumed the room, causing me to lose sight of you.

“Mom! Your hands are bleeding!” shouted Acacia, pulling me back to reality.

The thorns of the rosa rubus pierced through my fragile skin, but it doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t hurt at all. I gently caress the white petals of the rosa rubus, until they have come down with the redness in my hands.

“Mom, can we leave? I don’t understand why do we have to come!” Acacia picked up the tattered white roses and bent the stems of them.

“But he is your father, this cannot be changed.”

“A drunkard who vented his anger on his family.”

That was not what he intended to do, I was about to say out loud, but did not.

I knew you never drank, I knew you would never want to hurt us by any means, so even if I said I would go with you, you had left us behind, this was your way of loving.

I hesitantly replied, “I know, but...”

“Mom, that's the truth. Let's get this over with.”

“Yeah. Maybe I should.” I chose my words carefully, to fulfil your last wish. This is the least or maybe the only thing I can do more for you, though I am not sure if this is the right thing to do.

A warm breeze of wind embraces me with soft scents of rosa rubus as if you could hear my concerns. White petals of the torn roses flew, leaving a blank space in front of you. I walk slowly towards you to take a closer look of your gent smile.

I should have noticed these silly thoughts of yours five years ago, but everything’s too late. You thought that was the only way out, but it was not true, we could had gone through all of it together. You thought that was the perfect way to protect Acacia and me, but all I felt were insecurity and helplessness. You thought that would make us forget about you, but we still have those beautiful marks drawn by you on our bodies.

My dear, I know that the rosa rubus you had left me tried to turn all the red roses I had recognized of back to their immaculate originality, so that the ideal white of the rosa rubus, that gentleness you wished to leave on me, would not be tainted.

You were scared, and left me with that deadly note accompanied by a white rosa rubus. You thought that I only loved white rosa rubus, but actually the color never mattered to me, as long as the petals were soft and the scent was comforting as usual. Though the thorns may hurt, I would embrace the pain and take care of it.

Unfortunately, you did not give me the chance to do so.

“Are we done yet?” Acacia said

I understand your uncertainties, but I have made my decision.

Crystals of snow dance gracefully, and slowly cover the place with a piece of soothing white. I lay the bunch of rosa rubus down on the pure white bedding, and the red adorns the angelic place.

Rest well, my beloved.

by Cherry Cheung

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