Psychological Short Story – The Rose in my Heart
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What anguish do you experience when you do such a thing? When you think about what you have done, while you are in your divan, and a cold September breeze slithers by. What do you feel when you know that you took someone’s soul and you are walking blithely in the street?!
This thing I could not do. Walking full of desolation, anguish and guilt was I, just to feel a hand laid on my shoulder, and the man calling me by the name. He appeared to be from Scotland Yard. The only reason that I could conclude after requesting me to give Scotland Yard a visit was that they knew; every bloody detail of the murder!
My conscience chose not to wake up until I sat in the pale, empty room. I started telling the whole story without me evening desiring. The three hours of confession…
– What do you wish to know? The story hasn’t a beginning nor and ending.
– Your motive is the beginning, and your crucial method of handling the body is the end.
– Thus, we reach a consensus. I am not a killer, and for the man’s goods, I had no desire, for he hadn’t any.
– What did he do to deserve such a death?
– He took the only young rose in the garden of my heart. The only glowing candle in my somber life. The lamp that when visible, gave me the warm feeling of coming home, after a long road of darkness and agony. If I deserve punishment for taking his life, he deserved punishment for taking mine. However not the life of blood and flesh as you people all foolishly think, but the life that I would dream of when I slept, the life that I would incessantly talk about when awake. Returning back to reality, the parents of my love refused me a month ago, for not having a job. The fact that there daughter would live a humble life overcame the strong love that grew between us. Hence, they gave her to another man, a cold hearted one. A man that would never know the feeling of love…
– But didn’t you say that the man didn’t have any good? Then, what difference does it make?
– He didn’t have any goods, but he could make a living.
– Tell me more about the incident…
– “The disease had sharpened my senses -not destroyed- not dulled them.” This is what Poe said, and what I truly felt. Death had loomed him more every night he slept with her in the same bed, under the same roof! I dedicated my whole time to study his every move for the past two weeks. As if a professional!
– Was the girl worth it?
– And you dare ask me such a question? She wasn’t only a girl; she was an angel that rested me from my torment. Her hair was black as night. Her face was glowing as snow, her smile would melt the stone, and her skin was smooth and cold like a flower in October dawn. Whenever she touched me, my soul was revived. She was my complement. We used to meet under a sprouting chest nut tree beside a water bank. Whenever she went there she saw me waiting. She used to give me at every meeting a white rose just like the color of her heart. My senses told me that something was wrong when one day she didn’t come. And due to curiosity, a visit was obligatory. The news stroke me with a proud smile. I told the old man that love isn’t bought with some papers and metal we call money. I remember what he told me like sunlight: “Well, money bought my daughter with my desire, and you come to object?”
– I see you speak a lot about your motives, how did you deal with the body.
After a lot of stalking, I knew his every move, and every night I waited in front of his gate, waiting for the perfect timing. She gave him once a red rose, thus, I waited for him to carry the rose, but he never did. The night before their wedding, he was all romantic, and he was dancing alone in his house, and then he held the flower and starting looking at it.
– But why?
– For, the love that he had towards her was what vexed me. I broke in, and hid in his sleeping chamber. He surrendered to the world of dreams an hour later or so. I descended to get the rose and then put it next to his heart. I wanted all to be perfect. My desire was to bury the love that he carried with his body, to engrave it in his dead heart, to crush the seedling of love that grew between the two!
– Mad man!
– No; I was a lover. I then stabbed him with my knife three long stabs in the heart. One for him, and one for her, and one for the love between. He lied in the heaven of roses literally!
– You covered him with roses?!
– Red and White roses, the two colors she gave both of us!
– But his body hasn’t’ been found, where is it.
– When I went to her father, he ignored me and went to feed his dog. Due to this event, the inspiration came to me… The garbage bags fit the body after a few modifications, and the dog was stuffed that night.
– Your completely mad, you shouldn’t go to prison, you should go to an institution!
– And now my story has a beginning and an end. And my conscience has put me in an inevitable path where its end means mine.
The judge gave his word, and faith did too. Here, I write today, the last words I write in my life, the last words before my body lays for the worms. However when I ma gone, my candle will always stay glowing, my flower will stay standing waiting for the breeze that will take it from its roots, but the breeze will never come…
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