Prologue
It is said that roses have different meanings.
A Red rose means Love.
A Blue rose means Mystery.
A Orange roses means Energy.
A Green roses means life.
A Yellow roses means friendship.
How about a black rose?
It is said that a black rose means death and mourning. It also means rebirth.
Rebirth?
Of what?
Of whom?
Why?
You need answers? Don't ask me. Ask Eleanora.
It was a rainy night and out of a black car, came a person who had a black raincoat on. She removed the cap she was wearing and allowed the rain to wet her hair. In her hands were a bunch of black roses and in the other hand a bunch of letters. Her dark brown hair mingled with the dark. And when I took a closer look at her, the Sparks in her eyes were gone. She looked like a whole new person. Her face wore a long hard frown and all you could see in her eyes were tears stained with mascara. Like she was crying black blood with cold eyes.
For I saw her that night, dropping a black rose on the grave of some people, going from place to place with Lucas as her driver.
I recognize some of the graves though. I remember her putting those roses on Ezra's grave, King Azad's grave, Queen Tamara's grave, Ciara's grave, even Prince Green's grave.
But the most surprising of all, was a newly made grave. She looked at the grave long and hard and burned the dark rose on top of the grave.
For on the grave was written: Dure Henia.
She had dug a grave in advance for her dear husband.
If there's anything that has become more obvious to the world, it's that Eleanora has changed!
I’m honestly in awe of how immersive this was. The imagery, the rhythm, it felt like a movie unfolding inside my head. Each paragraph had a visual beat. This could easily evolve into something visual, a short film, maybe even a motion comic. It already has that heartbeat of movement in its storytelling.