Short story

Every Rose

Written by BintZasha

Trigger warning Abuse

I felt a wave of pain coursing through my entire being as I gazed at the deep red petals of a single rose. It resembled the blood-stained state of my own heart, serving as a haunting reminder of a love that had transformed into a suffocating prison.

His name was Edwin, a man who once whispered promises of everlasting devotion. However, those words had gradually mutated into manipulative and controlling echoes. Initially, his affection seemed like a gentle embrace, but over time, it constricted me like a tightening grip, leaving me desperate for air.

Our paths first crossed on a cool autumn evening, with the sky painted in warm hues of orange and gold, mirroring the fire that ignited within me as our eyes met amidst a bustling café. Edwin was captivating, possessing a smile that could melt even the coldest of hearts and a voice that lulled me into a false sense of security. From the very beginning, he exuded an air of mystery, drawing me in with an irresistible magnetism that made my heart skip a beat.

As our relationship progressed, so did his possessiveness. He would incessantly call me, demanding to know every detail of my life, monitoring my friendships, and enveloping me in a cloud of jealousy. At first, I mistook his actions for intense passion, believing that his obsession was an expression of love. However, as time passed, I came to realize that it was a toxic dance of power and control.

His words became a weapon, tearing away at my self-worth and reducing the once vibrant and hopeful Valerie to a fragile rose, withering under the weight of his abuse. I could no longer recognise myself in the mirror, as his poisonous words reverberated through my mind day and night.

Yet, like an addict craving another fix, I clung desperately to the fragments of the love we once shared. I convinced myself that if I could just be better, fix my flaws, he would love me with the same as before. It was a twisted cycle of pain and hope, and I found myself trapped within its complicated steps.

Then, on one fateful evening, as rain relentlessly beat against the windows, I summoned the courage to break free from the cycle of abuse. With trembling hands, tears mingling with raindrops, I gathered my belongings and confronted both the storm outside and the storm within. I left the rose behind, symbolising the beauty that had been tarnished by thorns.

Now, standing alone and facing the dawn of a new day, I realize that the scars run deep, extending far beyond the physical realm. Yet, with each passing moment, I rediscover the strength that resides within me, nourishing the spirit that was once crushed. I am no longer a fragile rose; I am a survivor, blooming despite the darkness that tried to consume me.

As the sun peeks through the clouds, casting its warm embrace upon my face, I make a vow to never allow anyone else to define my worth or dictate my happiness. I am Valerie, a testament to resilience, and my story is not one of abuse but of love reclaimed—a love that begins with self.

Every rose bears its thorns, but it is in embracing our own strength that we uncover the beauty within ourselves, ready to blossom and thrive in the vast garden of life