A Wilted Rose- Chapter 2

It was the next morning, and I was standing outside of RONSON’S MARKET. It was a nice, sunshiny Saturday. It was perfect for the first day of summer, but certainly not for my dreadfully terrible mood. Jessa was standing across from me, smiling. It seemed like she had regained her senses.

“We’ll miss you, Rose!” Jessa’s mom, Mrs. Ronson, patted me on the back. She had always been so kind.

“Come and visit us any time, Rosie,” Mr. Ronson smiled.

Jessa smiled at me. “Thanks, Rosalyn. For everything. But the only way I’m gonna get in that taxicab is if you pinkie-swear me something.”

“Sure. What is it?” I asked in interest.

“Keep in touch?” she asked. I smiled.

“Pinkie promise,” I swore.

As I watched the three of them, the sweetest family I’d ever known, drive off to the airport without me, It was all I could do not to shed a tear. Before I could, I turned around and saw something terrible.

“Help!” a woman was crying, having her purse stolen by some masked robber. “You stupid kid! Wait ‘til I get out my wand!”

Ignoring that strange comment, I raced towards the masked robber, who had just wrestled the woman’s purse from her and kicked her in the shins. As the woman attempted to pull a strange stick-like object from her purse, I tackled the robber to the ground, ripping the purse from his grasp.

“OW! GET OFF ME!” He kicked me really hard in the back, and I fell to one side, groaning and curling up into a ball, the purse safely hugged to my chest. The robber spat and me and dashed away, as soon as the cops pulled up.

“Is everyone here alright?” My heart skipped a beat. How could I be so stupid? I couldn’t have the cops investigating me…

“I’m fine, sir, sorry…” I tried to get up, but winced and fell back down, dropping the purse.

“You have the right to remain silent,” the cop said, pointing a canister of pepper spray at me.

“Excuse me sir, but this is the young lady who save me,” said the woman picking up her purse. “I’m fine, but I think she might be injured.”

Uh-oh… “No, no, I’m fine,” I got up, but there was a sharp pain in my back. “It’s just gonna be a bruise, that’s all.”

“Oh, sorry ma’am,” the cop steadied me. “If you wouldn’t mind me asking, what did the thief look like?”

“He had a mask on, so I couldn’t see. I won’t be much help here, so I’ll get going, sorry,” I attempted to walk away, but the cop stopped me.

“Would you like to press charges?” he asked.

“No thanks, sir,” I waved. “I don’t want any legal matters, tough times for my parents and all.”

“Alright,” he said.

As soon as I tried to walk away again, the woman stopped me. “Excuse me, ma’am, but is there any way I can thank you? You were very brave!” I paused, examining her. Then, I realized, this wasn’t a woman, this was a teenager, probably 15 or 16. She was oddly dressed, with large black boots, dark purple tights, a black skirt, and a purple shirt with a black cape. There was a very distinct purple-and-black combination here. She also had jet black hair that was really curly and large purple eyes. That was odd; you don’t see very many people with purple eyes.

“Oh, no ma’am,” I replied, but I stayed there, because she was limping. When the cop had asked everyone their questions and left, the girl groaned and clutched her shin.

“Are you alright?” I asked urgently.

“Oh… no, I think he cracked my growth plate…” her face was contorted with pain.

“Oh my gosh…” I paused, not really thinking this over but not really seeing any other option. “Here, come with me.”

I led her to the hotel, and then to my hotel room where I let her sit down on the couch.

“Ow… aw gee, kid I’m so sorry I made you drag me here,” she groaned. “I never do anything right!”

“It’s alright, do you mind me asking, what’s your name?” I asked as I prepared her an ice pack. It might not be enough, but it would do until we found out how serious it really was.

“My name is Magnolia,” she replied softly. “What’s yours?”

“My name’s Rosalyn, but you can call me Rosie or Rosa or Rose, I don’t care,” I said, placing the icepack on her leg.

She winced. “That’s pretty. Where are your parents, Rosie or Rosa or Rose?”

I smiled, and then frowned. Should I tell her the truth? “They’re… um… out.”

She suddenly turned around to look at me. “That’s a lie, I can tell. If it makes you feel any better, I don’t have any parents.”

I hesitated. What? “Well… what a coincidence. Neither do I. I’m sorry I lied to you; I just couldn’t let anyone know… I don’t want to go to an orphanage.”

“I understand. I don’t either. Are you a—” she looked me in the eyes for a second.

“Am I a what?” I asked, getting out the soup pot from the lower kitchen cabinets.

“No, never mind,” she said. I set the soup pot on the table.

“That’s al— AH!” I gasped, falling to the clean linen floor. Magnolia’s head snapped towards me.

“Rosie? Are you alright?” She asked frantically.

“OW! My back! Dammit, that creep has strong legs!” I cried. The sharp pain in my back had just increased tenfold. It felt like someone was jabbing a knife in my spinal cord.

“Rosie!” She paused for a moment, worry in her eyes. She looked as if she was deciding whether or not to do something scary.

“Magnolia, don’t do anything stupid!” I warned. “You’re hurt too! Don’t push yo— AH!” The serial stabber had returned. I wouldn’t be surprised if there actually was someone stabbing me right then.

“Rosie!” she cried again, rummaging through her purse. She got a bottle with a drop of purple liquid left in it. “Shoot, all the healing potion’s gone!”

Healing Potion? Magnolia…thought she was a witch, didn’t she? The strange get-up, the stick-like object (which she referred to as her wand), and now potions? This was strange… Beyond strange!

“Rosie, you may think I’m crazy right now but this will work, trust me!” Magnolia tried to get up; but winced because of the pain in her leg.

“Magnolia, if that really is a healing potion then why don’t you just use it on,” I paused and took a deep breath, the pain worsening for a brief second, “yourself and cast a spell on me?”

She paused, the worry in her eyes deepening. “Well, I’m not the best at spells. It could go wrong…” I cried out again, the hurt was just getting worse and worse. I didn’t know what else to do put go along with this. I couldn’t call the police. “Alright, I’ll do it!”

She took a sip of the potion, and stood up, picking up her wand.

“Wai—you’re a witch?!” I exclaimed. I couldn’t believe it, she was actually a witch!

“Yep, now be quiet, I need to think of the Healing Spell…” she closed her eyes, pointing the wand at me.

“Waitwaitwait!” I said so quickly I could hardly understand what I’m saying. “You said you weren’t very good at spells and I don’t want this to go wrong what could happen if you cast it bad wait I’m not sure I want you to—”

She ignored me. “Kelma… Zofla… Chinami!” she exclaimed. There was a puff of pink smoke that slowly faded to blue and dissipated, and I fainted.