The Single Rose


I sat patiently on the wet, cold seat, waiting for her. It was my birthday, our birthday, and the past three years she would visit me here before going anywhere else. She would bring me a single red rose and I knew that the flower was from the bush she herself tended to.

The November winds blew making the pale gown I wore swish around my legs, and then I saw her. She looked older, her blonde hair identical to mine, now cropped to her chin. Her blue eyes so like mine had that angry grief she carried with her from three years ago. She wore jeans and an oversized t-shirt. She carried that single rose.

Walking over, a little farther from where I sat, she knelt on her knees.

“I am sorry” she whispered. Her breathing hitched and a sob wracked her thin body. “I am so sorry Lina, I wish I hadn’t forced you to that party with me that night, I wish I hadn’t been so drunk, I wish, oh god, I wish that you hadn’t driven that night”.
Tears poured down her pale cheeks, I couldn’t sit here watching her cry. I got up and walked toward her.

“I wish you were here, I miss you so much, if I could, if I could only switch places that night!” Her words wracked me, I hated this. I hated that she had to suffer, I wanted to reach out and say, it was okay. I wanted to say I missed her too and she was the reason I didn’t leave this place, that I loved her.

I wished I could reach out and hug her, but my hand just passed through.

The tears didn’t come, they never came. I was frustrated, I didn’t want my twin to go through this. Even though it pained me, I wish that she would move on. Anger filled me, a sudden energy rushed through me, “Cara!” I yelled in desperation.
She raised her head, her eyes wide with shock. She stared right at me, and I wondered, if she, if she had somehow heard me.


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