The Black Rose among the Carnations

She stood at her father’s grave. It was raining. The black umbrellas of the mourners fading in into the dark of the sky. The heavens themselves wepr for the man they had lost. Flowers rain on the grave. And at last, a black rose soared down. Silently landing on the wet carnations below. A drop of blood followed the flower down, dripping from the girl’s finger. Dirt upon dirt landed on the wooden casket. The priest said the final words of the service and the mourners turned to her. They offered condolences. To her. The only remaining family. His daughter.

But she didn’t cry. She didn’t weep. She didn’t grieve. The mourners started to wonder and murmurs erupted in the crowd walking away from the graveyard. How could she be so cold? Her last remaining family is gone, and she doesn’t even shed a tear? Maybe it’s too much for someone so young, they thought. Barely eighteen, that girl. And already seen so much. But she had always been weird, they thought. Maybe because she’s seen so much. After all, she even still visits that murderer brother of hers behind the walls of the prison when everyone else despised him. But they didn’t even know half of it. They didn’t know the burden she was carrying. They didn’t know the truth.

The man they were mourning was not the man she had called her father. They had shared stories of a kind hearted, loyal man that could never even hurt a flower. A dedicated co-worker with an excellent moral compass. A friend that always stayed positive despite the tragedy that had sought their family home. Others had shared stories of a man broken by the loss of his wife. Blood tainting his son’s hands.

But none of these stories had resonated with her. None of the recounts seemed to be about the man she had known. None mentioned the pain she carried. The scars she hid. The fear she had lived in. But they didn’t know. They couldn’t know. All they know is what they’ve been shown, what they’ve been told. And they were so ready to believe it without questions. So they only saw the girl dressed in color at her father’s funeral. The black rose among the carnations.