In life we meet many people hear their very different stories, while doing so unknowingly we become a passive yet a very active character of the story. Some stories are complete and come with a moral, some as life are incomplete…..
My name is Rose and this is my story. I think it was in my destiny to be friends wither when my parents named me Rose, a flower of so many colours and character nevertheless a very delicate flower.
Opposite attract, it’s said but life always shows and has the exception to “every” rule. I don’t know how but I do know when I was first stricken by her beauty. I was just a new lonely scared girl starting my education in an entirely “new” school and with it come a lot of things like alone, no friends, …I had all the classic characteristics of the lost lamb in a crowd of tigers; it was then she was assigned to help me out until I got fully settled. It was mid session and I appreciated all help.
Many incidents showed clearly she was very popular among students and favorite of teachers and students alike yet she was not exactly how popular girls are portrayed in movies beautiful yes mean no!
As I settled in the more I admired her, she to me was a pretty Doe and like a doe she was easily frightened and scared; for protection always turned to others.
She sought help even when we, the others saw no need for any or so it seemed.
Once she asked me to buy from her a very expensive Hallmark card which at that time I didn’t even need, later its pieces made to the rubbish bin because it vastly contrasted with my taste. She had bought it a few days ago for her boyfriend but now wanted to give something else, she lamented how sorry she was to have bother me and told how she had tried but the “shop-lady” refused to refund her money. I did not have the heart to say no, how could I to such teary eyed pretty face though it cost me my entire pocket-money for the month and more; the month had just begun rest I had to borrow or steal; mostly steal.
This was the beginning of a very long cycle for me doing tasks for her it was all trivia for her, many a sleepless nights, hours of hard work and worry for me. I was among the many who wanted to be friends with her, because to be friends with her meant to be finally recognized as a living being in the school; so in truth she never heard a no. The cycle came to an end only in the final year of our schooling.
I don’t have the explanation or a perfect ending to go with my story. Maybe she realized the power the power of her beauty had on many of us, maybe I was being bullied without knowing, maybe I was just a Rose, maybe…a lot of maybe’s; I don’t know.