I was standing in a wooden gazebo, covered in green vines. There were stone benches at the edges, pressed against wooden, woven walls. Looking out of the archway that separated the gazebo from the rest of the world, I saw rows upon rows of green hedges, covered with roses. Red, pink, and white roses. It was the most beautiful thing I’d seen in months. I descended the few stone steps from the gazebo and started walking through the rose gardens. I turned a corner and saw a girl sitting on a red and white picnic blanket. She was wearing a cream and pink floral dress, and her blonde hair hung in tiny ringlets along her back. Her back was facing me, and her bare feet were tucked under her. She stood silently and turned to face me. “Welcome to my park,” she said in a voice like burnt honey. “It’s marvellous,” I breathed, looking around in awe. “Thank you. I’ve worked very hard on it. I don’t want it to ever get messed up. Will you walk with me?” She turned away and started strolling along the path, the grass moving under her feet. I hurried to catch up. My dark, ratty clothes were a stark contrast to the bright, pristine, serene environment around me. “My name is Elizabeth. What is yours?” Elizabeth asked, reaching out to run her hand along a rose’s petals. “Elias. It’s nice to meet you, Elizabeth.”
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Every time Eliet took my mind away and threw it someplace else, this was how it always started. Nice and pretty. Nothing wrong at all. “What am I doing here?” I ask quickly, stepping in front of Elizabeth so she would stop walking. “You’re here to help me tend to my garden,” she said, staring at me with unblinking, greyish-blue eyes, her face blank. Suddenly, a smile crossed her lips. “The roses won’t water themselves. We must get going.” Elizabeth brushed past me and kept walking. I followed behind her until we reached the end of the path. The path opened up into a courtyard, made of cobblestone with a stone fountain in the middle. It was surrounded by more hedges and roses, each wall leading towards a different direction. Elizabeth reached down next to the fountain, picking up a clay jug. She sat on the edge of the fountain, sticking the jug into the water. She handed it to me once it was full. I was shocked by its weight, the water sloshing around and small droplets flying out of the top. “Careful with that,” Elizabeth said, steadying the bottom of the jug. “You don’t want to waste a single drop.” She walked down one of the paths, turned a few corners, and then disappeared. I looked around wildly. Where had she gone? She was completely visible, then gone. People don’t just disappear! “Boo,” Elizabeth whispered from behind me. I jumped half a mile, nearly dropping the jug. She laughed, a noise like wind chimes in a spring breeze. “Come along, I’ll show you what you need to do,” she said, taking the jug in one hand and resting it on her hip, the other hand grabbing mine and leading me back towards the gazebo.
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Back at the gazebo, Elizabeth gave me instructions about where I was supposed to water, and with how much water. Then she left again. I sighed and started on my work. Slowly making my way through the rows, I noticed the water jug seemed to be getting even heavier. Looking inside, I saw it was now half empty. Like every scene I was put into, it didn’t make sense. I placed down the jug, to give myself a rest. As I stretched my sore hands, I admired the red roses to my left. Reaching out, I ran a finger along the petals. They were soft and cool. As soon as my fingers left them, though, they shattered. The petals shattered like glass, into a million pieces. I tried to pick up the pieces and force them back together, but obviously, that didn’t work. The longer I spent trying to fix the flower, the more I heard the sound of shattering glass. Up and down the rows, flowers and vines were shattering. I picked up the jug, but it shattered in my hands, spilling water over me. Looking at my hands, I saw they were covered in red. Not from the flowers, no. From the water. But it wasn't water anymore. It was blood the colour of red roses.
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Then, I felt her eyes on me. Looking up from my hands, I saw Elizabeth standing in front of me, the bottom of her dress soaked in blood. “I’ve worked very hard on my park and garden. I don’t want it to ever get messed up.” She smiled emotionlessly, sending shivers down my spine. “You messed it up. Now you will pay.” She pressed her palms to the back of my head and pulled me down, folding my neck in half. I couldn’t resist, my brain told me to double over. Elizabeth lowered me to the ground, and my cheek was pressed against the blood. I couldn’t breathe. If I did, all I got was blood. I spluttered in the warm, dark liquid, trying to just get a half breath. I was denied even that small pleasure. Elizabeth raised my head, and I hurried to wipe away as much of the blood as I could. She was no longer the quintessential, innocent girl in the flower garden. Now, she appeared to be a creature of blood and fire. A creature of death. Two large, black wings were behind her. She looked like a demon wearing a bloodstained, gauzy dress with blonde hair. “I’ve worked very hard on my park and garden. I don’t want it to ever get messed up,” she repeated, drawing her claw-like nails across my throat. My blood mixed with the blood seeping into the ground. I tried to scream, and the blood flowed into my mouth, painting my lungs red. I tried to force myself away from Elizabeth. I needed to get away from her. I needed to get away from this place. She bent over and dipped her fingers into the blood. With her fingers dripping, she ran a hand along the hedges. The blood seeped into the branches, flowing through them. As the blood raced through the hedges, the rest of the red roses shattered, the pink roses turned red, and the white roses turned pink. They were roses made of blood. Mine, and whoever fell victim to the girl in Elizabeth’s Park.223Please respect copyright.PENANAKsvyPV2nyr