Novel & Cerita Ghost Roses

The dark wooden coffin was centered in the chapel, open so everyone could see Victor's limp, pale body. White chrysanthemums decorated the coffin. Those were traditional flowers at wakes, and they meant "Golden flower”, from the Greek. Three of Victor's friends were next to the coffin, crying softly and drying their tears with a tissue as they recalled their journey. They were long-time friends. Their suits were as dark as the sky, representing perhaps eternal mourning. That was the garden of the mansion that Arabella had bought months before. She barely had time to get used to the place.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. If that’s Liora again, I swear I’ll shove my silver comb down her throat.” Scarlet snorted, dragging herself off the bed. “Didn’t she fucking break her bones earlier? How the hell did she manage to crawl her ass all the way here?” The knock came again ... slower this time. Heavier. Scarlet twisted the handle and yanked the door open. Her smirk died instantly. It wasn’t Liora. It was Grey. He stood there in the dim hallway, tall and composed, dressed in black like sin itself. One hand held a bouquet of dark red roses ... the kind that looked like they’d been grown in hell’s garden ... and in the other, a small velvet box.

I hope his plan will work. Alexia's Point of View * KKRRRRRIIIIIINNNNGGGG * An alarm clock wakes me up. I tapped it and sit on my bed, eyes are still closed. *Blink* -__o *Blink* o__- What? 0__0 Flowers? I immediately pick it up the black roses. Who's dead? Arrgg! Nathan is annoying me again. -- Dear Alexia, Black may not be the first color that comes to mind when celebrating love and friendship, but black roses actually symbolize rebirth and new beginnings. I hope you're okay now.

Ella replied. We exchanged contacts and added each other up on our social media accounts then hugged as we parted. I willed myself to forget about the guy with the pink streak and the vanity crew as a whole. I was here on a scholarship and I couldn't risk being distracted.

Rain realized that she’d almost worn a baby blue dress in the morning, she had totally forgotten about the burial even though she checked it countless times but…even though…not everyone in their entourage was wearing black. Just walk and act like you don’t know them. When they all finally joined the crowd, some others turned their faces back to the black casket that was about to be lowered into the ground. There was a picture in front of it, a young and vibrant looking man with glasses, he looked so handsome…so kind. Damn. Shit like this got her sad easily. He looks to be at least twenty-two or even twenty-one. The one person that caught Rain’s attention in the crowd was a woman that stood c

Exploring the mysterious world around her finding a banner hanging around a dead tree. The cloth was made of high quality material with golden edges. It was a black banner with a red rose symbol. There must be some meaning behind the red rose and she gasped when fifty roses grew out of the dead tree. From what she learned in one of Medicia's books when she was young. A book containing information about flowers and plants.

Its like they are waiting for someone's welcome. Hira opens the wooden gate and we enter it. At the doorway a middle aged woman came with Aarti thal(plate decorated to welcome special guests). She has worn orange color leghnga and she smiled as we came towards her. Hira looks just like her mother, simply beautiful. She does the aarti and showers me with flower petals.

I exclaimed and ripped open the pretty bow. Opening the box, I find a pretty blue, sleeveless ball dress with it's neckline studded with pretty stones. Beautiful flowery embroidery grace the waistline and extends softly to the hem. The artistry was immaculate and I was certain it did cost a fortune and more. "We want you to wear this tonight" my mum continued with a smile of contentment "Thanks Mom, thanks Dad", I blush and throw my self in for a hug. "I'm glad you like it princess", mom said and wiped the tears from corners of her eyes.

Without a moment of hesitation, I returned Elaine's polite gesture, squeezed Andrew's large fingers, and stepped toward the bed carrying a fresh bundle of spirit-herbs and rare mountain blossoms in my free hand. "Aunt Vanessa," I spoke softly, keeping my tone gentle and respectful. "I brought you some spirit-blossoms from the high garden. I selected pale pink carnations, bright golden roses, green bellflowers, and deep orange tulips—all ancient symbols of pack strength, healing, and long life. Try breathing in their essence; the scent is light and revitalizes a weakened spirit. They were freshly cut under the morning dew, brimming with vitality." I reached out, gently guiding the vibrant bou

And though the road ahead seemed shrouded in darkness, I knew that Rose's light would guide me through the shadows, a beacon of hope in the depths ___ The weight of loss hung heavy upon me as I stood by Rose's freshly dug grave. Her absence felt like a gaping wound in my heart, a painful reminder of the fleeting nature of life. With somber reverence, I placed a single red rose atop her burial mound, a silent tribute to the love we once shared.