Rose wandered through the forest beyond the city limits where she was raised. As she searched her surroundings, a cold darkness coiled around her leg. It slithered like a slimy snake, clamping around her ankles. Panic clawed up her throat as she disappeared into the grasping darkness.

Rose broke out of the void, darting towards an unknown destination at the eastern side of the forest. She was drawn to a river—why there, she didn’t know. At the foot of the river, Nightshade stood staring at Rose, his eyes like pits. He was frigidly animated. His pale, translucent skin radiated a threatening frost, and his hair was so dark it seemed to suck the light from his surroundings. The pointed teeth in his mouth were bone white, and when he spoke to her he seemed to chomp on the words in anticipation of trying to devour her existence.

“I couldn’t manage to kill her, but I will kill you…Only one of Nymph blood can destroy my mirror!”

    Rose’s eyes popped open and she bolted upright in her bed, startled awake from her most recent nightmare. In an attempt to shake off any remnants of the icy image and threatening figure, Rose got out of bed to stretch her legs. Though she couldn’t recall all the details from her dream, she still found herself searching the corners of her room, seeking anything that might be lurking. Her gaze landed on the calendar hanging on the wall. She could hardly believe her birthday was just days away. Not just any birthday, but her sixteenth. It was time for a change. In previous years, she’d asked for gardening supplies for her birthday. But this year she’d grown tired of being the sole caretaker for this greenhouse. This year she wanted her freedom. That was a wish she doubted would be granted though. Rose peered through the clear glass of the greenhouse and saw her mother approaching from their cozy farmhouse only mere feet away. In the distance, she could see her father working the farmland as the sun rose and she scrunched her nose and shuddered at the sight of him before turning her attention back to her mother’s form. In every direction, she could see nothing but expanses of farmland. The only sign of civilization was the courier that visited once every few months. This only fed her hatred for this place.

Rose kicked a watering can in frustration then composed her face into a fake grin as her mother entered the greenhouse. As soon as her mother crossed the threshold, she began her usual chattering, causing Rose to roll her eyes in irritation. Rose allowed her mind to wander to self-destructive thoughts.

"Why is she allowed to live freely? Why her and not me?"

She clasped her garden shovel firmly and chided herself for the stray thought that crossed her mind. Hurting her to get away was not a good solution. She would not resort to violence no matter how irked she felt. She wasn’t her father.

"Rose, are you well? Do you need me to bring you anything?" her mother crooned.

"Yes, mother, I’m fine." Rose gritted her teeth and feigned a smile.

Biting her lip to keep from screaming, she allowed her mother to launch into her daily line of questioning. Which began with the obligatory pleasantry of, “How are you?”

And of course the only response allowed was, “I’m fine.”

Rose tried to listen, but her consciousness slithered back to her sinister inner thoughts. Her typical, curt replies flowed from her mouth without much effort. It was a dance she did with her mother daily. Meanwhile, Rose entertained various scenarios of how she might express her frustrations to her mother. The one that she kept returning to would surely land her in jail. Hitting her mother over the head with a shovel would be momentarily satisfying, but jail was bound to be an even worse prison than she found herself in. And Rose wasn’t about to go there to suffer and die. Exchanging one cage for another wasn’t appealing. Some part of her still held onto the bright hope of escape.

With a shake of her head, Rose tried to stave off her rage.

She just barely caught the end of her mother’s speech, “... if you need anything, just let me know, and I’ll get it for you.”

Rose mumbled out, “I’m fine, mother!” and punctuated the sentence with her trademark eye roll.

Inhaling deeply, Rose forced her mind back to what she really wanted to ask about: escape—a relief from constant imprisonment because she couldn’t take it anymore!

As she opened her mouth to boldly release her desires out into the open, she stumbled on her words and all that came out was "Now, that I’ve become stronger… maybe I can leave this greenhouse… even if it’s just for a little while.”

Crimson bloomed on her mother’s face and her head snapped around so fast the swish of her hair could’ve chopped down a tree. A grimace spread across her lips. Her eyebrows were pushed together in a scowl.

"But you are bound here! Do you wish to die, Rose? Leaving the greenhouse would be absolutely mad! Why would you want to leave now? You're still so young." her mother said.

Rose whirled toward her mother and screamed, "I'm tired of being trapped here, Lailah. I want to explore the world. I've always wanted to leave. I never told you because I knew my staying here made you happy, but I can't take it anymore."

Having the audacity to use her mother’s first name only added to her anger. Much to her dismay, Rose's mother rushed out of the greenhouse so fast that one of the pins that held her hair in its hastily constructed bun fell to the floor. As she slammed the door closed behind her, she could swear she saw Lailah smirk while locking the greenhouse door for the first time in ten years.

Rose was still determined to leave.  She began plotting her escape.

That night Rose used the hairpin which had fallen from her mother’s hair to painstakingly pick the lock. Triumphantly, she grinned when the lock gave way. Quietly, she closed the door behind her and snuck out of the greenhouse under the cover of night.

That first breath of crisp air and the feeling of the night breeze on her skin made her head spin in delight. Pure joy engulfed her. She reveled in the glory of the ground beneath her feet and bathed in the moon’s silvery glow. No glass obscured its brilliant light tonight. Gazing around in wonder, she knew now she’d rather die than continue living her life as an observer. Creeping over to the entrance, she risked a swift glance at the entrance of the house. The lights were all off, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Rose had to put distance between her and the greenhouse quickly or else her mother would capture her and hold her in captivity once again out of fear that Rose would perish from her imagined curse. Being at the mercy of her fiend of a father was not Rose’s top priority. The young woman wandered on until the heaviness of sleep curled around her bones. Then she rested on the ground, planning to continue her journey in the morning.

The warmth of the sun shining on her face woke her. Languidly, she stretched her limbs. They were slightly stiff and crackled as she stirred. The claws of sleep still clung to her even though she'd slept until mid-day.

Rose brushed off the exhaustion which came from sleeping on the ground and continued on her adventure, noticing when she looked behind her that her house was no longer in view. At first, there was only farmland and forest in her path, but after walking on for what felt like several miles, she had only started to see the outlines of what looked like a city. That vague outline is what urged her forward until she reached the village.

Stepping foot into her first ever village was better than any picture her imagination could conjure up and more vivid and lively than the descriptions in all of the books she’d read in the greenhouse combined. The houses were crowded together like many flat topped mountains. Gas street lights dotted the city like fireflies, though none of them were lit in the bright sunlight. 

With excited steps, she strolled towards the town, feeling triumphant in her successful escape. She had just crossed over the threshold to the town, when she collapsed to the ground in a coughing fit.

Victory crumbled before her as her knees slammed into the rocky, dirt street and her lungs heaved the air in and out of her body. Her knees tore open where she'd hit the ground. She began to cough up blood, staining the ground an inky crimson red.

All she could think was, “Why didn’t I believe her?” as her dinner from the night before made a second appearance, splattering onto the street. Hands trembled in pain, and coughing so was the villager’s first impression of her. She looked up, blood still running down her mouth. The violent pain racking her body momentarily subsided as she gazed up at the handsome savior before her.

It was a villager, a man. He spotted her pathetic, retching form and lifted her into his mail carrier. Rose only managed to catch a glimpse of her protector before her vision went black.

******

When she came to, she felt the ground moving beneath her. It was a buggy, a small one for carrying mail. Every so often they stopped and she saw him grasp letters from where she was resting. For a moment, Rose just took in the image of the man who had saved her. From behind, all she could see was jagged, short, golden-brown hair and olive skin. He seemed to sense her stir for he turned around and said, “I was starting to wonder if you'd awaken. Are you feeling better?"

She opened her mouth to say yes, but her chest constricted and her breathing was heavy. Her gaze darted around looking for her greenhouse, the only thing that could save her.

"No. I need to get back to my house. I’m in the town just a few miles down the road," Rose gasped. She gave him some directions, vague ones, but he smiled with recognition and pointed his horse in the right direction.

"I'll take you there. You're in no condition to travel." The villager said, and as Rose opened her mouth to gripe, she was stopped by strange man's input. “No buts. Do you want to get yourself killed?" He said and his lips curled upward in a smile. His eyes glinted with wit.

"Fine" Rose huffed and pouted her lower lip in childish protest.

A bright smile graced his face and humor danced across the emerald green of his eyes in response. He turned back around to direct the horse towards her village.

Her chest heaved and another coughing spell ripped through her. Thankfully, she got her hands in front of her mouth just in time to catch the blood in her palms. Black spots danced in front of her vision, and Rose fought to keep a hold of consciousness as they traveled back to her home.

By the time they finally reached her house, her bones rattled and her chest felt as though it were filling up with water. She was becoming worse with every passing minute. Her clothes were stained the same red black as her hair.

Rose rasped to the concerned face of the villager,

"I need to get back to the greenhouse now."

He looked to the greenhouse, the house, and back at her.

"Wouldn't you be safer in the house---?”

Rose cut him off.

"No, I wouldn't. If you won’t take me to the greenhouse, I'll walk there myself," Rose snapped.

Pushing herself to her feet and trying to force her way to the greenhouse proved impossible when her knees buckled beneath her. She collapsed to the ground, barely breaking the fall with her palms before her arms folded like paper doll arms.

Inching her way towards the greenhouse brought to mind the irony that she was now crawling towards the place she just tried to escape. As she reached for the greenhouse, strong arms grasped her at her waist and lifted her off the ground as if she were as light as a feather.

Rose looked up to see the strange man, and was surprised at how he'd lifted her with such ease. He carried her to the glass house carefully as if she were a small child, though to Rose, his lack of facial hair and softer features suggested that he was little more than a child himself.

As soon as they entered the greenhouse, Rose was finally able to guzzle in air. The inhales didn’t inflame her throat and the lead weight on her chest lightened slightly. The exhales weren’t wet with blood. Each lungful of air came a little easier, but she still wasn’t fully recovered. The vice still gripped her chest—not squeezing the life out of her anymore, but squeezing nonetheless. "Can you take me closer to the roses?" Rose asked tilting her head in the direction of the white roses.

He shifted her in his arms and then started striding towards the roses. As she got closer, her breathing steadied, the urge to cough subsided, and the pain in her lungs dissipated.

By the time they had reached the roses the only part of her that wasn't healed was her hands. The hand was still numb and the fingers moved clumsily from stiffness.

"Can you put me down? I want to try to walk now," Rose asked the man, and he placed her gently on the ground.

As she sat on the floor amidst the fragrant blossoms, she reached a trembling hand out to stroke the rose’s velvety petals. Miraculously, the feeling began to return to her hand. She cupped one of the blossoms with both her hands and for a moment she just stared at the flower in awe as she felt them heal her ragged and broken body. It isn't the greenhouse that keeps me here after all; it's the plants. Maybe escape is still an option, Rose thought to herself.

Rose pushed herself from the ground, only wobbling slightly before she managed to find her balance. She looked the villager in the eyes and said,

"Thank you for helping me."

Then she realized she'd never even asked this man's name or told him what her own name was.

"My name is Rose. What would your name be?"

"Gabriel," He said.

As Rose stared at her bloodied clumsy hands, a memory of her childhood flashed before her mind.