If you think I'm beautiful because I am born as a red rose, I would say so. I'm luckier than most of other flowers.
Red rose is popular.
Ok. Sometimes we are cheesy, or contemporaries and avant-gardist call us a cliché flower.
Do not forget that hydrangeas and lilies stole our fame lately. Honestly I don't really care, I'm born as a red rose and we are as classic as red lipstick. We have spikes and that is more killer than your studded leather jacket. On top of that, our lives are full of drama.
We are the object for those human in love, lovers, haters in love, and lovers in hate. Being cliché is a good sign, because it means everybody understands why we are there. Don't need to over analyze us. Thank you.
Anyway, that is not my actual journal.
I'm a red rose inside beautiful transparent bucket located in this one of popular flower shops in town. My florist is a fat mid-aged lady with charming face. She always smiles and lot of people visit her shop mostly because she always stands in front of the door whilst carrying colorful flowers inside her arms and greets them with funny words. I can hear her shaking voice. "Good morning! Some flowers for your widow mother? Some flowers for your happy pregnant girlfriend? Some flowers for your son coming back from war? Flowers for your father whom you have not talked with for fifty days? Or some fresh flowers for your far from fancy but homey comfortable flat?"
She's a very nice lady.
It's my first day inside the transparent bucket. Everybody must be in their first day. That's why customers love this lady's shop. All flowers are fresh from garden.
I am waiting almost in vain because nobody looks at me today. I have told you about our fame is getting lose lately, but don't worry somebody must be still in needing of red roses.
An old grandpa walked slowly into the shop. He walked with a stick, he looked so tired. The fat lady cheered him up. "Hello, Sir! Can I help you today? Any flowers you looking for?"
The old grandpa didn't change his tired expression that much. "Yes. Chrysanthemum."
The fat lady rushed to the rack and picked a chrysanthemum which positioned right next to me. "This one Sir. Beautiful chrysanthemum. Any special occasion today?"
The old grandpa nodded. "My wife's 78th birthday."
The fat lady clapped her hands enthusiastically. "Oh! Let me decorate it with special ribbon, it's a compliment from me!"
The old grandpa shook his head. "Don't need. Thank you. My wife has died since ten years ago and she didn't like ribbons. I actually bought this chrysanthemum for her grave. How much?"
I felt sorry for the old grandpa, also for the chrysanthemum.
The fat lady shook her head in an awkward sorry face. "No it's free, Sir. Still I would like to give a gift for your wife. Happy 78th birthday for your wife."
The old grandpa only nodded his face. He looked grateful even though he still didn't change his expression that much. I love how old people is more static with their expressions and we could read their feelings from their eyes or wrinkles.
Five minutes after, my scene came by.
A middle aged man wearing formal suit walked toward me. He looked at me behind his turtle-skin glasses just for few seconds, not studying to discover the aesthetic side of me. His face looked in a hurry, a happy face but temporary one. From his feature, I know he's a man, a husband, and a father. I tried to smile. Nothing such as lips in my nature of course, but I can grow shine and smells. This man doesn't care at the end, he just picked me from the transparent jar and walked hurriedly to the fat lady.
"Good evening, Sir," the fat lady looked at me then moved her eyes to the man. "Is that it? Nice choice. You are a conservative romantic man."
The man smiled while dropping some money to the lady. "Yes I think I am."
The fat lady smiled back. "It must be for your wife?"
The man went silent for a while then nodded in his wider smile. "Yes for my wife. Thank you Madame."
I smiled too. He looked like a nice husband to buy a red rose for his wife. Made me feel happy to be inside his fingertips now. I don't know where we are going, he walked so fast. I can see dark clouds above us, I breath happily, absorbing carbon dioxide as much as I can. I will play my red rose scene my best this evening.
Few minutes after we arrived in front of this shiny navy blue door. The man looked nervous now. He stood there for a while while pressing my spiky stem tightly. I hope his fingers are not bleeding against my spikes. He's doing fine, I have checked. Now he's checking out his tie. It's still in good position. His suit has also been ironed very neatly. His perfume smells masculine. I don't like it but it smelled right on him. Then I could see his index finger slowly pressed the door bell. He pressed it three times, but each of one a very quick press. "Ring. Ring. Ring."
We needed to wait for few minutes until the door opened. A young girl appeared from inside, she looked too young to be his wife. She looked too fragile like a newborn flower. Her face is full of make up and her hair smelled of vanilla shampoo. Her eyes don't tell me much except she's a girl with pretty face and expensive contact lens. She looked stunning. I felt like an ugly red rose this time.
"Christie..." the man called her with his romantic voice. "I miss you."
Christie the young girl looked at me, not at him. "You came here only when you want me, Gary."
Gary the man sighed. "I've been busy, my dear."
Christie laughed in sarcastic way. "Yeah right. Busy with your family?"
Gary shook his head. "I'm working us out. I mean it. But at least let me come in? It's cold outside."
Christie opened the door wider and let him in. "What kind of gift you gave me this time Gary?" she asked while staring at me in disgust.
Gary lift me up with his hand and showed me to Christie. "It's for you."
Christie rolled her eyes. "A rose. Just put it on that table. I need to put my pizza into the microwave. I'm so hungry." Then she walked into other part of her room. Maybe a kitchen.
Gary slowly put me on a small table full of dirty stuff. Keys, cards, ashtrays. Smells yuck! I don't like to be here. Gary didn't care, he walked to where Christie went. I heard them talk, a bit of tense conversation. I sighed, letting out depressive oxygen into the empty living room. My life only ends up as a red rose for a mistress? I could not think much this time.
A few minutes after they came back into the living room. I heard they were still fighting over something.
Christie yelled like a mad girl. "But you promised to let go your wife since last month!" Then she took me. I looked at her face furiously. Of course there is no such as angry eyebrows in my nature, but I can strengthen my spikes. Christie dropped me when I heard she yelled, "Ouch! Stupid red rose you gave me Bastard! Don't you know they have spikes and can hurt my fingers?"
I bumped onto the floor like a dead leave.
Gary lift me up again from the floor and walked to the front door. "That's it, Christie. You must be having PMS. Stop yelling at me like I never support your life allowance for these last months!"
Christie went silent and looked sorry now. Too late, Gary already walked outside with me. I hate him too now.
He walked slowly now. Same dark clouds, but different speed. I still don't know where we are going this time. I tried to absorb more carbon dioxide because I felt sick, but it's bit depressive already. I'm a depressive red rose.
Some time after, we arrived in front of another door. It is an old natural colored wooden door. Gary didn't bell the door, he just knocked. Less than one minute the door opened, a middle aged woman appeared. She looked sweaty and her hair is messy. She smelled chicken and basil and a bit of curry. She smiled happily when she saw Gary. "Darling, I have been waiting for you! I tried to call you but it didn't work. I made you curry chicken for dinner." Then she kissed Gary on his nose.
Gary walked inside with his tired face. "I'm sorry, Darling. I've been busy and lot of meetings. I had some hot dogs on the way here, not really hungry. Can you keep the chicken curry for my lunch tomorrow?"
The woman nodded in disappointment, but still with her lips smiling. "Sure."
Then Gary lift me up and gave me to the woman. "It's for you, Darling."
The woman looked extremely happy this time. She almost jumped. "Darling! Now you remember even though you are a bit early, our 19th anniversary is still next week! But still thank you so much my Darling!" the woman smelled me with her nose.
Gary stopped walking and looked at his wife. "Ah. Yes. Our wedding anniversary is next week, better early than nothing." Then Gary kissed his wife on her nose. "I'm going to shower, Tina. I'm so tired."
Then Tina looked at me closely. Her face is happy. She took a beautiful transparent bucket from the living room. Pour some water, then put me inside my new room. She walked to her room with me along. I looked at her deeply. Her sparkling eyes, but wrinkles one. Her smiling lips, but dried one. I stand beautifully on her night desk. I let out my best red rose odor.
Tomorrow, soon, I'm turning into a dried red rose. I wish I could be next to Tina forever as a beautiful red rose. I wanted to keep her happy. Of course in my nature, there's no eternal life. I have to go soon.
Don't know why, for the first time, I wish I was born as a chrysanthemum.
ps: I tried to draw a red rose with my index finger, at the same time it can get the real picture of bleeding fingers effected by the red rose's spikes. I'm trying hard to be an artiste this time. Hope it worked out.
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