The Stained Rose
He ran. He ran like he never did before. He could feel his heartbeat increase with every step, and his blood rush through his body, with every other. As he surpassed many of his competitors, the smile on his face broadened. He had to win this race; he had to, no matter what. It was for her. She who had been there for him when no one else had, she who had shared his every joy and lessened each sorrow, and, she who was no more; it was for her.
He was about to cross the 300 metre mark, when he heard a train in the distance. It brought to him the memory of one of the most important moments of his life.
He remembered the journey in that train, where he first saw her, differently. He had instantly fallen in love with that charming, elegant young lady in the green scarf, whose laughter sounded magical to him. He wondered why he had failed to
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Sadly, it was too late for anything to be done. He held her in his arms and cursed fate. That was when he noticed, on her lap, a rose. A beautifully bloomed white rose with a note wrapped around it, both, stained in blood. The note read, “All the very best for your race, honey! I know that you will not break your promise”.
The stained rose flashed in front of his eyes. He got up struggling and started running again with all his energy. He failed to notice what was happening around him. All that he could think of, was, winning this race. He had put his heart and soul in it. And, it did pay off. He was the first to finish the run.
He wished he could hear her cheer, though he knew it wasn’t possible. But, to his surprise, no one in the huge crowd did. Not a single person came to him, to share his joy. He knew not, what had gone wrong. Astonished, he turned all around. There was a huge crowd at one place on the track. On reaching there, he found himself on the ground. The white rose had fallen out of his pocket, stained now, in his