OscarWilde     “The truth is rarely pure and never simple.”

 

why?

 

Two girls arrived at different locations. One arrived at the large water fountain in the middle of the school's garden. The other arrived at the large gazebo near the school's pond. Surely these places should be within yards of each other, but they were not. The school itself was that enormous. Anyhow, the two girls were both quite nervous, unsure of what to expect. As they neared the meeting place, their eyes met with the persons' back that had sent for them. Each girl let out a small gasp and went silent. They were too speechless to say anything when their respective male turned around to face their respective girl with relieve expressions. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • "How about a lovely, thorn-less rose bouquet for a Daisy?" He handed the still silent and dazed girl the bouquet of a dozen red, thorn-less roses with a sincere smile into her grasp. She stared at him for what felt like an eternity before she finally answered him. "No." She firmly declined, looking up at him with sad eyes, gripping onto the bouquet tightly. "No?" He questioned, staring down with his own questioning eyes. "No." She stated once more, but louder and more firmer this time. "No." "Why?" He asked, eyes boring into hers, as his facial structure hardened. "Because..." She trailed off, looking away, not wanting him to see her tears forming. "Because, what?" He asked, taking a hold of her arm with one hand while the other hand swiftly grabbing her chin to direct her face to meet his, not letting go. She stared at him as the tears slowly cascaded down. "Because, I'm not her." She finally answered, jerking herself out of his grasp, turning around, and running as far away from him as possible. He chased after her, confused by her words, reached her within seconds, and spun her around to face him once more. "What do you mean you're not her?" He questioned her, almost yelling. "You're standing right before me, aren't you?!" "I'm standing, yes!" She answered back with the same tone. "But I'm not her. I'm not, her!" She broke out of his grasp once again, but this time she flung the bouquet of roses at him which bounced off his chest and fell to the ground, unwanted. "I don't want to be her!" She screamed at him. He looked at her with a dumbfounded expression before it hardened once his eyes rested upon the now ruined flowers. The roses he carefully plucked from his flower garden with love, tenderness, and care. The roses he thoughtfully arranged to create the bouquet to give to the girl he dearly cared for and truly loved. That one girl who he could give his unloved heart to, to finally be loved. The neatly assemble bouquet that was now destroyed cruelly. Before he could lashed out his own frustrations, her words silenced him. "Never, ever again, will I want to be her." She stated, breathing heavily. The two stared at one another for what felt like forever, but was only a mere few seconds. His pained, yet hard gaze. Her hurt, yet defiant look. And before he could say something once again, she ran off leaving him staring off after her. He watched her go, feeling her slipping away from his fingertips. He couldn't mustered the courage to run after her again. His mind couldn't process the words that fell from her lips. All he could do was to sadly cast his gaze upon the damaged roses once more. He languidly leaned down to gathered the bouquet in his hand and stood back up. He shifted his eyes in the direction where she had run off to and felt more alone than he had ever been before she entered into his life. "I'm sorry." Were the words he whispered into the quiet and cold night air before turning around and slowly walking away in the opposite direction. "I'm sorry." He repeated once more as he caressed the bouquet to ease the pain of his already once broken heart. The garden and its water fountain appearing eerily too serene and lovely under the night sky which bore as the sole witnesses to t