A Bed of Roses

A Bed of Roses

By: Isabela Matamoros

I still remember that dark and fateful night, as clear as day… though it’s been years since I’ve seen the light the sun so kindly bestows upon the earth. Here it is dark, black as night. Here it is cold, though the wind doesn’t bite. Here, there is barely enough room for me, as my home is also inhabited by other species. There is no food to eat, no water to drink, no air to breathe. My roof is the ground above, my walls the dirt which surrounds me now.

I imagine my stomach would be growling, if it were still functioning; that my throat would be parched, if I still had one; that my lungs have shriveled like an old rose and served as food to the insects, one of my only forms of company.

Yes, I lay here, hidden… hidden from the world above, lifeless. Yet I remain for no definite purpose, though I can assume it is because I have been wronged, robbed of a proper burial and tucked away into a mere hole in the ground, left to decay.

It does not hurt to rot, as all feeling has been stripped away from my body by someone I once held dear to me—though this fact remains known only by a few. It does not hurt to rot… but I am forced to acknowledge and accept the pain of not being as beautiful as I once was.

I wither away, piece by piece. What had once been flesh continues to peel from my bones, falling like dead flower petals. My bones fail to protect what meat I have left. My lips, once painted pink and kissed by the only love I’d ever known, are now kissed solely by the moisture that waters the ground. But it brings no relief, leaving my lips forever stale and crisp. I am tired of sleeping, though I no longer sleep behind closed eyes, for those have also been taken from me by the merciless creatures I now live among.

No, I am no longer half as beautiful as I once was… on that dark and fateful night, when the sun set before its time. My body continues to erode, though I do not grow old. My gown, already torn from the moment I met my end, has become shreds of fabric, stained by the colors of the earth. All that remains almost perfectly in tact is the floral corsage that once dressed my wrist, adorned with a large baby pink rose and several smaller white flowers I do not think I ever even knew the name for at all. The flowers remain nameless to me… the way I remain lost to the world above, now merely an uncelebrated descendant of the dark world below.

I have no voice with which to scream, but I have yet a truth to tell… about that night which I remember all too well. The night of Saturday, May 17, 2014: the night of my senior prom.

***********

The day began like any other, but the excitement in the air was unlike anything I had ever felt before in my young life. The sun was especially bright, its golden beams radiating through my bedroom windows, illuminating my entire room.

“It’s going to be a good day,” I remember telling myself as I looked out my window. “This is my day.”

Prom was the most important event in my life at the time, as normally would be the case for any young woman of only eighteen years of age. I had purchased my gown too early, and my greatest concern was that it would not fit properly— as I had gained a few pounds since I had tried it on the first time.

I remember I wasted no time and eagerly yet carefully snatched my dress from the closet. After removing the garment bag that protected it and admiring the beauty of the dress for possibly the thirty-fifth time, my attention shifted to my ringing phone. I was pleasantly surprised to see that the contact picture on the screen belonged to my older sister, Annie, who had once been five years older than me.

“Hello,” I practically exclaimed, the thought of my dress completely tossed to the side.

“Lily, it’s Annie,” she said. Her soft voice still rings in my memory.

“Of course it’s you,” I responded. “Who else has this specific number?”

“Ha! Ha!” she said sarcastically. “Well, I just wanted to call to let you know that I’ll be home in about an hour or so.”

“Home? You mean here?”

“Where else?”

“What about college, your classes,” I asked.

“I’m only coming home for today, to help doll you up for prom.”

“Really?” I asked, excitedly.

“Really,” she chuckled. “I fly back to New York tomorrow.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Thank you would suffice,” she teased.

“Yes, thank you, I— you would come all the way back to Texas just to help me?”

“Of course! I can’t just be studying fashion and then not come back to dress you up.”

“Thanks,” I said with a smile.

“I know you mentioned you possibly weren’t going to fit into your prom dress, so I made you a back-up dress, just in case. I went by your old measurements and added a few inches in all the appropriate places.”

“Oh, Annie, you shouldn’t have done that.”

“You won’t be saying that if you can’t squeeze into your original gown, sweetheart.”

I looked down at the mint-colored dress laid out in front of me, at the silver sequins glistening on the bodice, and felt saddened at the thought of not wearing it.

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” I told Annie.

“No problem, love. I better go. I need to get your Mom some flowers and your stupid brother a gift card or something. You know the way they’ll get if I come home with something only for you.”

“You mean our Mother, and Chris isn’t stupid. He’s just… well, Chris.”

“Exactly, he’s Mom’s favorite, and I can’t understand why.”

I remained silent.

“Hey, Lily?”

“Yes,” I replied as I held up my dress.

“Do you think Mom loves us? Like actually loves us? She’s always so on and off with you and I.”

I laid the gown on my bed. “I think she does, in her own way. She just really loves Chris, I think. She always did want a son.” I always tried to make excuses for my Mother.

“Yeah, well, I can’t imagine why. He’s clearly why Kelly ran away. She couldn’t stand being his girlfriend anymore, to the point where she ditched her own family and thought the only way she could fully escape him was if she left him behind for good.”

“I’m sure she had other reasons for leaving,” I tried to reason. “It could not have just been Chris. He did love her.”

“So he said.” Annie paused. “I’m sorry though. Today is about you. You’re going to prom!”

I smiled.

“It’s just, coming back home always makes me think and wonder about Kelly, you know?”

“Yes, I— yes.”

“But enough about her now.” Annie’s voice became animated again. “Like I said, today is about you! Nick is going to be blown away when he sees you tonight! You’re already the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. With your gown and your hair done, you’re going to be a blindingly gorgeous girlfriend!”

I blushed. “I’ll see you when you get here.”

“I’ll see you soon, Lily. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

I remember trying on my gown after the phone call. I could not get it to zip properly and felt utter relief that my sister had designed a new gown, a one-of-a-kind creation, just for me.

Shortly afterwards, I sat at my study desk and made a list of the important things I wanted to accomplish in life. I was going to:

1.     Attend prom;

2.     Graduate with Honors;

3.     Go to college and become an English instructor for high school students;

4.     Publish a collection of poems and short stories;

5.     Marry Nick one day;

6.     Travel throughout Europe; And last, but not least,

7.     Have a family.

I recall I checked off the first box right then and there, unaware that I had done so prematurely.

When my sister arrived, I met her outside, and while our conversation was pleasant and sweet, the weather had changed drastically. The sun had disappeared behind a thick veil of dense clouds. The sky hung low with a grey hue. And the wind had picked up, the tree branches swaying to a sad tune they alone could hear. The breeze itself was humid and undesirable. Little did I know the weather had been set for me that whole day— bright and promising in the morning, and overcast and gloomy to foreshadow my doom.

I could never forget how beautifully Annie dressed me up that night. I was a true vision when I saw my reflection in the mirror. My hair was curled and set in a gorgeous updo, with two loose curls draping on either side of my face. My make-up was light, subtle pinks with a hint of glitter. And my gown, the same piece of fabric I remain buried in now, was once glorious: thin, sturdy straps held up the sweetheart-neckline decorated bodice; the fitted bodice and skirt flashed a beautiful apricot-pink color and careful beading throughout its entirety.

I thanked my Annie repeatedly and gave her the longest hug just before she was to leave to visit our paternal grandmother.

“Go up to the attic,” Annie told me. “In Grandmother Mabel’s keepsake dresser, you’ll find a small jewelry box. There’s a gold brooch inside it that would be the finishing touch to your dress. No one ever touches her things, so it’ll be exactly where I left it.”

“I will do exactly as you’ve instructed. Thank you again. Have fun with Grandma, and I love you.”

Annie kissed my forehead. “I love you, too. You have a great time at the prom! I want to hear all about it when I get back!”

How could I have known her last words to me would never be fulfilled?

Shortly after Annie left, I went up to the attic, careful not to snag my dress. Upon locating Grandmother Mabel’s dresser, I searched for her brooch and quickly found it. How beautiful it was, in the shape of a heart and outlined with small diamonds. I secured it to my dress and closed the drawer. However, something that had gone unnoticed before caught my eye: a very familiar necklace, a silver locket, partially peeking out from underneath the dresser.

I gathered my dress and bent down to pick it up. The locket was dirty, fragments of dust and lint clinging to it. It was undeniably a piece of jewelry I had seen many times in the past, but I could not remember to whom it belonged.

Anxious to answer that question, I found the latch and opened it to reveal a small picture, an all too familiar photo of a young man I knew very well.

“Kelly?” I asked myself.

Suddenly, I heard the front door open and felt unsettled. Holding the locket, I turned frantically to leave the attic, but behold, an uneven floorboard creaked under my left foot.

Why was I afraid? Only my family would have access to the front door. Unfortunately, it dawned on me that I was truly afraid of what I would find when I removed the floorboard.

Carefully, I knelt beside it and lifted it. Dust flew at me, but even the dust cloud could not mask the hidden item. Horrified, I plucked it from the wooden slot. Yes, I recognized the baby pink shirt, its eyelet sleeves, and lace overlay— stained crimson.

“Kelly?” I repeated.

Suddenly, footsteps approached me from behind. Slowly, I rose from the floor and turned to face…

“Lily?”

“Chris,” I asked shakily. I had never been so scared to face my brother.

“What is that,” he asked.

My breathing became short and rapid, and my heart pounded in my chest.

My brother scanned the floor and noticed the misplaced board. He set his eyes on me but did not speak.

“Chris?”

He remained fixated on me, motionless, the color draining from his face.

“Chris, is this… what I think it is?”

Silence rung in the air.

“Is this whose I think it is?!”

“What were you doing up here in the first place,” he asked through gritted teeth.

A tear ran down my face. “What is this?”

He advanced towards me.

“Stay back! Chris! Where is Kelly? What did you do to her?!”

My brother grabbed my arms, digging his nails into my skin.

“I loved her, Lily.”

“No, you didn’t!”

“Yes, I did.”

“I thought she ran away? But you…”

“She did. But I didn’t let her get far. I couldn’t bear the thought of her living her life without me. It wasn’t right. She was mine.”

“Chris, what did you do to her?” I demanded.

He began to cry and then stopped abruptly. “I tried to get her to come back with me. She wouldn’t— so I tried to force her. She fell and hit a boulder, broke her neck. But I took what was mine. I ripped her shirt off, and the locket. I had given her both, so I took them back.”

“Where is her body?”

“Some open field on the way back here.” He began to cry again. “But I visit her— once a year.”

“You’re sick!” I tried to break free from him. He tightened his grip on me.

“Maybe. I miss her, you know? I kept the shirt because…”

“You’re a monster!” I kneed him in his stomach and ran towards the stairs once he set me free. I removed the brooch from my dress as I ran as fast as I could down the attic stairs, the shirt and locket still in hand, only for him to catch me again on the second floor of the house.

“I don’t want to have to hurt you, Lily!”

I stabbed his hand and lip with the brooch needle multiple times, forcing him to release me just long enough for me to turn toward the next flight of stairs. But as fate would have it, I suddenly heard a voice that did not belong to my brother.

“Lily!”

My mother. She had been home the whole time. Caught off guard, I turned to face her and stopped in my tracks.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

And before I could respond or react at all, she violently took hold of me and flung me down the stairs. My dress ripped as my legs broke. It felt like an eternity that I tumbled down, until my neck snapped, broken, at the bottom of the staircase. I was rendered immobile. But the pain lasted only a few seconds. They spoke, but I could not understand or think anymore. And then, just like that, I grew completely still, took my last struggled breath, and all the feeling left my entire body.

What happened next, I saw through my corpse’s eyes, and it pained me. My brother looked directly into my lifeless eyes and gently closed them with his hand.

How could my own mother have done this to me? The same woman who gave me life took it away. For what? To protect her one and only son. For the love of her favorite child. And I realized that Annie had been right all along: Mother did not love us.

My pain did not end there, for that same night, my brother and my mother dug a hole just deep enough for me and stuffed my body into it. I watched behind closed eyes as they worked to shield my truth from the world around us with dirt and soil. I can only imagine the lies they fabricated and spread to my sister and to Nick, who I later learned had intended to propose to me at our prom. I would never get to live a life with him, never attend college, never age. Everything had been taken from me in the blink of an eye.

For three years, my body has remained trapped in its improper grave, my spirit still unable to detach my from corpse. I know not why. I long to be free, to be discovered.

How is it that my whereabouts have been kept a secret for so long? That is because my brother and my own mother planted a bed of roses above the uneven ground that threatened to reveal me. And after the roses served their purpose of leveling the ground once again, my mother sold our house to you.

I lay here to rot under those very flowers which my family planted. My mother’s bed of roses serves as the headstone to my unmarked grave.

For so long, I have spoken only to the roses, despising them for hiding from the world what remains left of me, loving them for being my only friends. But I speak now to you, new tenant, for though I have remained in solace, I have not forgotten how to speak. Nor have I forgotten the injustices committed against me. My spirit has known no form of rest, and I refuse to let it stay trapped in this wretched corpse.

I have been unable to leave this morgue behind… but I feel that is about to change. New tenant, Rose, I have heard them call you— how ironic it is indeed that you plan to uproot the bed of roses that will unveil the truth behind a three-year mystery. I have waited this long. What is a little more time? I call to you. You hear me.

I beg you now, Rose… please bring me to light.