Ophelia: Flowers And a Lover's ScornMature

Sleep seemed like the way to go. When the morning light drew back my curtains, tumbled delicately upon my pillow, I still could not believe the encounter with Jacque had been real. He had seemed so forgiving, so ready to forget that I had left him behind for his sister.

After dressing myself, I prepared to set out in search of the boy. Or man, I supposed. He had been a boy when I left the manor; seeing him now had set off some spark deep within me. Some unshakable force was moving through me.

When I opened the doors, I let a sigh escape me. Resting on the floor before my door was an intricately shaped vase overfilled with blooming red roses. All my love, the note read. It was yours once, and I'd give it to you again in a heartbeat. Like our love, these roses will bloom into something beautiful.

I couldnt keep the broad, sloppy grin off my lips. Lifting them, I turned to place them in my room. As I did such, a shadow formed in the corner of my vision. I gripped the vase tighter to keep from dropping it, letting a scream fall from my lips instead.

Rebecca stood behind me, illuminated by the natural light pouring across the floor. Her incandesant smile was vain and sadistic. She wore nothing but a thin underdress, fit to expose more than proper.

In her hand she held a knife.

The End

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