Spellbound

in #writing5 years ago

"Rose. My name is the life and the death of me." Rose thought to herself as she attempted to water her garden. She cursed when her crippled hands fumbled with the hose handle several times. After what felt like her tenth attempt, Rose hurled the watering can down in frustration, and it plopped down by the hose. She began to yell at the white roses in her garden.
"Why have you doomed me to this fate? You’ve made me crippled and bound me to this horrible place. I can't even hurt you because you don't have feelings. You can't even argue when I yell at you. You are useless! I can't even kill you because I would just be killing myself."
For a while Rose just sat on the ground seething with anger, flicking at the roses’ white petals to punish them for trapping her. Then, she stood up to leave not bothering to brush the dirt from her clothing and mumbled, "I'll be back to deal with you later," before stomping into her makeshift house. She hadn't left in years. Her many attempts to escape from the greenhouse seemed as distant as the sun or the stars in the night sky. As she sat in her glass prison, she began to think back on her many attempts at escape and how her quest for freedom began...

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