The Waltz of the Thorned Rose Written by Phantom Gardevoir Prelude: The Waltz of the Thorned Rose Her tiny hand reached for the beautiful blossom. It was a vibrant crimson, the color of her wide, shining eyes. The flower was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. There were far more beautiful things in life, but she was just a child, she didn't know any better. She was at an age where life was young, and so new to her. Life was a happy place, in her eyes, there was no such thing as hatred and fear and violence. In her eyes, there was no such thing as evil. I had wished, at that moment, when I looked at the tiny little girl giggling at the flower, that I had that mind. I had that naive sense. In that sense, life was beautiful. But I had seen much, and I wasn't even out of my teenage years at the time--I had seen enough to know the world is not filled with beautiful rainbows and galloping Rapidash. In my eyes, life was a bunch of bullshit. She turned to me upon touching one of the crimson petals of the rose, and her laugh, high-pitched and melodious, filled the quiet forest around us. As she laughed, a gentle breeze made the trees, the leaves, the life all around us sway in a rythmic, soothing dance. The sun, a brilliant orb of gold, rose a little higher in the orange-yellow-pink sky, and kissed our skins to greet us and prepare for the beautiful day ahead of us. "Look! Look!" she squeaked in that imperfect child's voice, pointing at the flower and jumping for joy, "Look, Kay! Isn't it the most prettiest thing you have ever seen?" Against my will, a smile cracked the stone face I held, "Yes," I felt horribly insecure, my voice pitchy and high-pitched, still changing with puberty while her voice was pure, unscarred, "It is a very pretty flower." "What is it? What kind of flower is it?" her wide eyes were the size of my own cheeks, and they shone like rubies in the morning sunlight, "Tell me what it is, Kay!" "It's..." I bit my bottom lip with my sharpest tooth too hard, inadvertently causing it to bleed. I swore. "Ooooh, you said a bad word, Kay," she thrust her bottom lip outwards in a pouty frown, and she narrowed her eyes as she wagged her tiny finger, "nuh- uh-uh! You tell me not to say bad words!" she reprimanded. "There's a difference," I grinned, wincing at the sting of my wound, "I'm a grown-up. You're still a little kid. Grown-ups can swear." "No fair!" she crossed her arms and pouted once more. She looked so adorable, so innocent, that I just had to laugh. I laughed for a good five minutes until my stomach hurt. Wiping tears from my eyes, I walked up closer, turning serious. "Well?" she sounded impatient, "What flower is it? It's not a daisy..." "Nah," I shook my head, "it's a rose. They're one of the most beautiful flowers in the entire world. Practically everyone likes 'em. They come in different colors, too, like white and yellow and even pink," her eyes lit up at the word pink, "but usually, commonly, they're red." "Wow," her 'wow' was dragged out in amazement, "that's so cool...I wonder if I picked it--!" She grabbed the rose by the stem long before I warned her, "Don't touch it!!!" She yelped, snatching her hand back. She then looked down at her tiny hand, and I noticed there were two little red dots on her palm. When they began to drip blood she began to cry. "Aw," I really hated it when she cried. I wasn't the comforting type. Hesitantly, I placed an arm around her shoulder and replied, "Look, it's not that bad. Roses have little pointy things on their stems, called thorns, see? You always have to look before you take one. Okay? Lemme see it..." Gently, I took her hand. Her sobs turned into small sniffles as she looked at me. She had to be the cutest little kid I'd ever seen--well, the only kid, actually. Her ruby eyes were wide and curious, and the stubby red horns on the top of her head complimented her green bob she had for hair. The rest of her was just this slim, white body, and her arms were just as pale, and short and stubby. The fact that she was small didn't help her, either, it made her frail and weak. But from experience, I knew she was far from it. I've still got the bruise on my ass to prove it... "Why do they have thorns, Kay-kay?" she inquired curiously, her wound long forgotten. I strugged for an answer this time. I'd have to answer; she always counted on me for all the answers. Being her guardian, her role model, her 'Kay-kay', I'd have to provide one. Shrugging, I answered the best way that I possibly could, "I--I guess it's the same reasons as to why you've got those mind powers, why I have cheeks to store electricity...it's a defense thing. We always have to defend themselves. I have my thunder, you have your mind, and--well, roses-- have thorns...to ward off any mean Pokemon that tries to take them." "I understand now..." she pulled away from my grasp to stare closely at the rose, "...the rose is a pretty flower. But it has to defend itself." "That's right." I nodded. I was about to further explain the thorns on the rose when I heard the wild Taillow begin to sing in their melodious whistle. One note became another, and then an entire song was being performed. "The Taillow are singing their morning song a bit late today," I remarked curiously, "guess it's that time of migration...once they leave for the winter, the only songs we'll have are from the damn Snorunts and their stupid snorts--!" "Ooooooh!!!" she interrupted me entirely, running to the center of the meadow we stood in, carrying the rose with her. I didn't even know she'd taken the rose. "Hey, don't the thorns hurt?" I asked her, walking up to her. She spun around to the song as she laughed while replying, "No--because the rose knows now that I won't hurt it. Dance with me, Kay-kay! I love the morning song!!!" I shuffled my feet, a little embarrassed. I'd never danced in front of anyone. I highly doubt anyone would want to see me shaking my ass while I hum a nameless tune in the nearby lake that I bathe in every other evening. "Come on, dance with me and the rose!!!" she yelled joyously, oblivious to my discontent. I sighed, and decided to do a little jig for her benefit. It would make her happy and that was what mattered. Tentatively, I waved my arms around while bobbing up and down. "You can do better than that, Kay-kay!!!! C'mon, do what I do!" she smiled as she spun around, at the same time yelling out, "Wheeeeee!!!!" "Uh..." slowly, I began spinning around, crying out in the most monotonous, non-pitchy voice I could muster, "Wheeee...." "Yell louder! They'll sing louder if you do!" she advised as she continued spinning like a crazed Spinda doing its Teeter Dance. I winced, hating this humiliation but nevertheless doing it for her, "Wheee!!" After a while, it became a chorus of 'wheeee's, and the spinning actually got funner and funner. I actually went as far as outstetching my arms and laughing alongside her. I had never felt so unchained, so free. At that moment, I appreciated everything. The grass soaked with morning dew as it soaked my own feet, the Taillow's song, flowing and beautiful. The smell of blossoming flowers around us, and her laugh as it echoed in my ears. Finally, the warmth of the sun, beating down on my face, warming me body, mind and soul. At that moment, I saw life for its beauty and not for its ugliness. I saw her for her innocence and not for her occasional brattiness. I saw myself for a good person, and not for the bad person I believed I was. I saw not a temporary place to stay, but home. I finally felt like I belonged somewhere. I felt like I was home. At that moment, we were both free. We spun, spun, and spun, even after the Taillow stopped singing and after the morning breeze faded to midday humidity, until we finally got too dizzy, and we both collapsed on top of the now dry grass, laughing so hard you'd think we were dying from it. That's the memory that comes to mind now when I think of her. Never will I forget the day we danced. Even now, when life only gets uglier. Even now, as we both slowly die.