A bouquet Of Roses

Benedikt woke up with a start, the first rays of sunlight gently caressed his cheek. The snowstorm was over and he had miraculously survived the entire ordeal. Patches of green slowly appeared under the surface of the retreating snow. He tried to detangle himself from the person (or thing he wasn't really sure which was which since his mind was hazy) who was squishing him like a pancake. There were remnants of frostbite on his fingers. Benedikt felt a sudden chill running down his spine. He was vary of this person holding him, but why can't he hear even the sound of his breathing nor the beating of his heart? After struggling for some time, he finally managed to push the body away from him, stood up straight, brushed the remaining snow from his knees, straightened the creases that formed on the coat and immediately after that turned the figure around to face him directly.

He reeled back due to shock. Igor was as stiff as a mountain rock neither breathing nor moving. His lips were blue and was curved downwards. He was suffering whether he knew it or not. His face was deathly pale to be called normal.

Benedikt freaked out! He frantically checked the man's pulse.

One time...…

Two times...…

Three times...….

He couldn't even feel a glimmer of pulse inside him. He quickly proceeded to do CPR trying his best to kickstart his heart. Even after many tries he was not able to revive his master.

Due to desperation he tried shaking him vigorously, screaming profanities at him which will surely guarantee a thorough washing of his mouth with soap from the disgruntled sisters who resided in the union, beating him mercilessly until his hands were sore, cursed him blindly without meaning. Yet after he did all of this Igor refused to budge. He didn't even lift a finger!

His face became the color of sulphur, bile lodged itself in his throat. He clapped his hand to his mouth, leaped out from the carriage, went to the nearest bushes he could find, then emptied everything he could muster (he wondered if he could empty yesterday's breakfast, lunch and dinner as well, then knock himself out to escape from reality.) He dry heaved for some more minutes than staggered back towards the carriage and collapsed on his knees feeling numb all over he didn't even have a will to even cry. Accusations rained down on him like acid burning through his skin and he couldn't help himself as he sank into the depths of self- loathing he himself despised. He cradled his head on his arms and wildly rocked back and forth.

'MASTER IS DEAD! HIS MASTER IS DEAD! HIS MASTER IS DEAD! HIS MASTER IS DEAD! HIS MASTER IS DEAD! HIS MASTER IS DEAD! HIS MASTER IS DEAD! HIS MASTER IS FUCKING DEAD!!!

ITS ALL MY FAULT!!!! ITS ALL MY FAULT!!!! ITS ALL MY FAULT!!!! ITS ALL MY FAULT!!! ITS ALL MY FAULT!!!! ITS ALL MY FAULT!!!! ITS ALL MY FAULT!!!! ITS ALL MY FUCKING FAULT!!!!!!

WHY DID HE DIE FOR SOMEONE LIKE HIM?

WHY?

WHY?

WHY?

WHY?

I SHOULD HAVE BEEN DEAD A LONG TIME AGO!

WHY DID I LIVE?

WHY CAN'T I DIE?

Please take me out of this misery......

Let me take his place!

He repeated this like a mantra over and over and again.

A while later he regained some of his energy and most of his senses. His eyes wandered for a patch of clear ground for a burial since taking a body back to the mansion was currently not possible as they were quite far away. He quickly spotted something bright red among the patches of green grass which was only arm's length away from where his master was lying.

Benedikt scrambled to his feet, ran towards the source knelt down and brushed away the snow that was covering it. A beautiful rose emerged fully bloomed to perfection right in front of him regardless of the current environment it resided in. He was enthralled as he gingerly touched its petals which was as soft like cotton candy! He forgot where he was at the moment the loss he had suffered and just admired the rose which swayed a little, oblivious to the tragedy that had unfolded minutes ago.

It reminded him about the rose that was placed on a glass vase inside his bedroom back in the manor the one that his master gave him a week before the trip when he was alive and breathing talking about the philosophical meaning of life which he had no idea about which took almost half of his energy to just try to understand the bits and pieces of it. A lump formed in his throat and he tried to keep his sobs in from leaking out.

"You know when I die......I don't want to be reborn as another human being, rather I would like to be a rose perfectly formed, like this one who doesn't work by rules and doesn't have a care for this world." His words now seemed like a thunderclap ringing in his ears. He watched with sadness in his eyes as he envisioned the phantom version of Igor speaking in a garbled voice while playing with its petals saying each word gingerly, looking at him hoping he could understand the meaning behind it all.

His eyes blurred with tears. Benedikt subconsciously stroked the petals the same way his master did. Gently, not to rough, teasing it a little so that it bounces back to him.

Unable to contain it anymore he burst into nerve-wracking sobs, knelt down then curled himself into a small tiny ball and started trembling due to immense heartache.

The rose gently swayed back and forth Unaffected by time, oblivious to everything surrounding it, it could forever be admired by everyone and doesn't have to take care of the world as it did in its previous life not anymore as it is now free from all the burdens of life....