A Rose for Shyla
By Bridget Squires
SMASHWORDS EDITION
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PUBLISHED BY:
Bridget Squires on Smashwords
A Rose for Shyla
Copyright © 2011 by Bridget Squires
Photo courtesy of
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The rose, a deep congealed blood red color, was tied to the locker hook with a white ribbon. Shyla waltzed down the hall, hips swinging seductively side to side in her Ed Hardy Love Kills Slowly be jeweled jeans and white string tank top. Fashionably late as always, Shyla took her time making her way down the vacant school hall, her peers already prisoners in the rooms that lined the walls. Plucking the rose from its place Shyla smiled, a grin transforming the lip gloss pout into a pursed kiss that further made her appear sexy, a technique she used to get what she wanted from the boys who adored her from afar. A small card was affixed to the silky ribbon delicately, as if it would fall to pieces on touch. Shyla flicked it open to read what she imagined to be some pathetic love poem but instead was greeted with a simple phrase written in decorative calligraphy, letters large and sweeping across the paper. "A rose for Shyla" was all it said, as if that were romantic enough on its own. Shyla scoffed, her silicone breasts bouncing slightly with her snort. Running a hand through her dye job blond hair, Shyla tossed the latest attempt of some loser wooing her in the trash before snatching up the rose. Its allure was too much for even Shyla, the rich spoiled girl she was, to ignore. Instead of disposing the rose immediately, she noticed its scent was already tickling her nostrils. This tickle was enough to lure Shyla forward as she inhaled the sweet aroma deeply, savoring it for just a few seconds. Then, with perfect pitch, Shyla threw it in the bin before slinking off to class.
The next morning Shyla found a second rose, as pink as blush and a stem littered with thorns and sporadic spouts of leaves here and there attached to her locker. No class peers where evident to help Shyla determine who the secret admirer was or even for Shyla to question about the rose to begin with. A white ribbon once again held the rose and card in place, beckoning Shyla's full attention. Now Shyla was intrigued. Valentine's day was the following Monday and yet here was another gift for her Romeo. Once again the card only read "A Rose for Shyla" in that unique and beautiful scripe and nothing more. Now Shyla knew there was someone pining over her, someone who had given her two gifts in two days, maybe all leading up to Valentine's day, she thought. Shyla brought the blossom to her surgically modified nose and allowed the odor to embrace her, the rose so close it almost seemed a part of her. Shyla found herself longing for some sort of perfume that could match the picturesque scent of these roses, yet somehow Shyla doubted any scientist could match such a heavenly aroma. Shyla knew she couldn't be seen with the prize, it would make her admirer think he had won and stop the daily gifts. Instead of taking the chance of anyone seeing her prize, Shyla once again disposed of the gift and continued in with her day.
Wednesday morning rolled in, the winter snow blanketed the ground and warm, bright sunlight reflected off the diamond like surface turning the day into a perfect February occurrence. This time the rose was a bright yellow, like sunflowers or black-eyed Susan's from Shyla's mother’s garden. Shyla sneered, appreciating selfishly the fact that there was some sorry soul pouring a great deal of attention in her. Her Hydraulics skinny jeans and Aeropostal long sleeved shirt hugged the curves Shyla's father’s money had bought her. Shyla knew she was beautiful and flaunted it often so the rose was simply a testimony of the fact. Yet again Shyla studied the same phrase that had graced the previous two cards. Whoever her admirer was, he obviously was not ready to reveal himself yet. Shyla was an expert at head games and heart games as well. Destroying the love struck fools that would walk on fire for her had become a game, one Shyla never lost. This rose had the most satisfying fragrance of the three, so much stronger that it made Shyla slightly dizzy. Shyla knew the next two days would bring more flowers, with a larger surprise erupting in Valentine’s day when whoever had put all this effort forth to impress Shyla would be callously turned down like all the others before. Shyla found herself thriving on the adrenaline the rose brought on, her bleached whitened teeth clearly visible if there had been anyone out in the hall to witness the diabolical smile that twisted Shyla's gorgeous face into something ugly, lifted the fake layers away to reveal the truth of her ugly spirit beneath all the liposuction and botox.
Thursday Shyla found herself with a white rose, one that was brilliant in its color and form. Plucking it and reading the same phrase Shyla realized that whoever her Romeo was, he wasn't all that creative. The card contained the same message, which Shyla now found boring and arbitrary. The surprise had been seeped from the gift, making it seem more annoying than pleasurable. The only plus side was the essence of the bud, how the scent seemed to linger on Shyla's clothes and coated the insides of her nostrils leaving a waft that could be caught when she inhaled for hours. This scent made Shyla stumble and her stomach churn. The scent was overpowering with its sweetness. Trashing it once again, Shyla continued to class, feeling as if a cold were setting in. Coughing and eye’s watering.
Friday had the school buzzing with excitement, Shyla found posters spread throughout the hallway linoleum boasting about the big day, Valentine's, on Monday. Shyla giggled under her breath with anticipation. Even though she felt ill the thought of receiving a special gift Monday from whoever was behind the daily roses excited her deep down. It provided a chance to humiliate another one of her followers in front of the entire school, much like the string of broken hearts that lay in her previous holiday wakes. This time Shyla wasn't as happy with the rose color. It was a deep black, the blackest black Shyla had ever seen. The petals drooped slightly, hanging from the rose in an unhealthy fashion and the sporadic leaves were tinged brown, stained with the impending death the rose faced. Still the need to savor the rose’s special perfume was irresistible. Pulling the rose from its place, Shyla hadn't the chance to take in the full aroma before collapsing to the floor.
The students whispered words of condolences and crocodile tears were shed as the Principal announced over loud speaker the Monday morning updates. Shyla Jolene Hopper had suffered an intense reaction to some unknown poison and had been admitted to the hospital Friday. The students remembered the ambulance, the way the beautiful body shook and convulsed as the stretcher carried it to the open doors. White, bubbly foam leaking from the brightly painted lips that had once uttered the most terrible insults anyone had ever heard. Shyla had been a bully, a girl with enough money that friends were not necessary. No one spoke as Shyla's eyes rolled back in her head, the whites shining under the fluorescent lighting, streaks of red shooting through them. Even with those terrible memories, as the Monday morning news of Shyla's death was being announced, no one really cared. The odd thing was that Shyla's last words had been about some roses that no one had ever seen and no trace could be found of her phantom roses. Most assumed her damaged brain had invented the notion since everyone was well aware that buying Shyla anything led to humiliation. One poor boy had blown his brains out, showering his bedroom door with his blood, after pursuing Shyla and being horribly rejected. After that no one tried anymore for the mean girl’s attention so the idea of roses as gifts was preposterous, simply could not have happened. Shyla had died on Valentines morning at 6:32 AM. Out of pure expectations to appear as if anyone cared, flowers were being laid at Shyla's locker in her memory. Even the boy who had killed himself's biology major sister had been generous enough to lay a single rose at the lockers bottom with a small card that simply read "A rose for Shyla".