If you are reading this then probably you are the only one that i am sharing this story with. I fear that this story may end with me, may perish in this mud when i go, but this is not such a story to be forgotten
In the spring of 94 its when i met rose, she blossomed in the garden like the red flowers . She was the most beautiful girl i met . That summer vacation, we spend our whole days together. I wouldn't forget the first time i kissed her on her lips, it was like kissing on the soft rose petals. I wouldnt have known what love is If it wasnt for her, but it wasnt love that i remember but grief. She taught me what a heart break feels like
In the end of summer vacation , i remember waiting for her in the garden eagerly looking towards the end from where she usually showed up , but i couldnt find her on that day or the days followed, i remeber crying tightly holding the rose i plucked from the garden , the prick of the thorns didnt made me feel anything , I wonder how pain has different meaning sometimes. If I know she was going away then i wouldnt have left her hands on the previous day, i would have kissed her one more time, i would have told her i love her again and again, I am not sure how colors fade away so fast in the absence of rose, how the fragrance of the flowers just left me with her.
After a week waiting for her, i asked my mom where rose had went, but she didnt know who rose was. i went looking for her in the address she told me, but the house was closed and it seems like nobody had lived there ever since i dont know. I roamed around asking people about rose who lived there, but nobody knew her, so thats why asked about the people who used to live in that house before and i heard that the young wife and husband left the place long before , when their daughter fell into the well and died on a summer
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