The price

She dreamed this most nights ; the same scene all nights – she is in a blue room full of white roses. As she bends to smell one , she wishes it was red. She doesnt know why she wants a red rose but she just wants it. and then she moves on to the next rose. After few roses, she realizes its a round room so all she does it smell same flower again and again.

She considers this dream to be a omen in her life of every significant day. And it was a good omen in her life indeed until she went to that rose exhibition. The blue round room had hundred of roses in all possible colours. But it was a white rose she touched and wished it would be red.And she heard a man pass her muttering “Some wishes have heavy price”. she turned to confirm if it was said to her but the guy was lost in the crowd.

Later that night , she had the same dream and when she wished for the rose to be red, the thorns on the rose sprang to life. They pricked her fingers to make them bleed. She cried but the blood did not stop till the rose was red. and then she saw the same guy standing next to her; admiring how beautiful the rose was.

Next day she was found dead with blood dripping out of her fingers and a message scribbled next to her body “I thus pay the price”.



Prompted @ March challenge (day 12 – Horror) and Thursday Tales ( Image prompt)

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0 thoughts on “The price”

  1. Here, amidst her fondness for roses in her dreams, is a inherent psychological disorder bordering on an undying love for a partner. A dangerous sentiment – a dementia praecox.

    A sad ending, but mostly common to cases suffering from dementia. Pity her.

  2. this is interesting in the terms of the cyclical nature of the story. The suspense could be drawn out. Let the readers guess what the end would be. Here, its slightly obvious 😉

    Rock on!


  3. I like this, my perception of this was maybe different than you intended..but I feel like I live in my own blue room with only white roses.. longing for that one red one..

  4. “No human can completely understand other and no one can always arrange for happiness of someone , how silly we are to be scared of loneliness”.
    Yes, in blues of life there is often a desire for sparkling yet illusive red .In a zest to turn whites into red , one has to pay the pay the price of colour which many a times comes from one’s own bleeding heart.
    Nice post….Very apt narration in very beautiful words …… just could stop from commenting

      1. Just couldn’t stop from commenting* ..sorry for error

        Obviously I saw it in that light with limited arc of my wisdom…….blues , white and red may be I took them in different sense …..would like to know what were you trying to indicate ?

  5. Nice post. But I think something was missing in between. She sort of died too suddenly and without apparent reason. The white and blue roses part was very surreal, and it is really spooky when you visit a place u see in ur dreams. Write more of these stories 🙂

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