Red Park

A boy of about 16 was traveling around Red Park. His name was Jack. He was about 5'7" and fairly fit. He had dark brown hair, shiny, and down to about the bottom of his ears, parted and fighting their way to his eyes.1

Red Park was a curious place. Most of what you saw was the blue sky, the green grass, and the brown bark of the tree. Anything else would be the gray walkway, the assorted cars in the parking lot, or the occasional passerby that would steal a glance in your direction. The scenery was dull but in a way hard to look away from.2

Jack saw the curiousity and set out to find the reason for such a name. He figured that he wouldn't find the answer that he was looking for out in the open where most of everyone was, so he stepped into the woods.3

It was a normal wood in all it's glory with squirrels and birds and twigs and everything else you would see there.4

Jack was becoming bored seeing the same things in such a multitude. It took a full twenty minutes before he saw anything new. Trees surrounded Jack on every side and he stopped in a new curiousity. He crouched over and sat staring into the face of a rose. It had fully bloomed outstretching it's leaves. He kept going off thinking thoughts of beauty in circulation through his mind.5

A few feet away, Jack saw another rose. The strange thing was that this one was still a bud. He stood and walked towards that one. He crouched once more and stared at this one, taking a glance back at the one that had bloomed. He found this a curiousity. Most flowers would bloom all together in season.6

Another few feet Jack saw two more roses coupled together, still buds. He walked over to those and didn't even bother to crouch down this time. He looked out to the forest in the direction that the roses were leading him. He saw lots of random places of the specimens. He walked from one to the next. He began to touch each rose to see if they were real. All of them were buds except for the one he saw first.7

After about five minutes of roses and walking, he came to a field, a whole field full of roses, except these were the most beautiful out of any that he had seen. In the middle of the field, there was a single tree. The trees leaves were a vibrant red. Under the tree was a girl who looked as aged as Jack. 8

Jack stood and stared at her for a minute from afar. He imagined being under the tree with her. He walked towards the tree, kicking the roses with each stride ignoring their thorns as they tried to rip his jeans.Along the way he quickly picked up one of the roses luckily not being cut by one of them. He went up to her and tried to start conversation.9

"Hello. I saw you from the trees over there," He said as he pointed towards the woods that surrounded this romantic mixture of grass and roses,"I just really felt that I should talk to you. I picked a rose for you." He handed it to her and she just smiled accepting it, elegantly outstretching her arm.He went and sat down by her. "I'm Jack. I wanted to ask you for your name." 10

She gave a short and simple reply, "Rose." Jack gave an awkward look. She bent inward and softly kissed him on his lips. She moved over to his ear and softly whispered, "Thank you for my final memory."11

Jack woke up under the tree, covered in shriveled leaves that would have been red if they weren't there for so long as they had been. The tree was naked of its leaves. It was very strange since the sky was cloudy and blue. 12

Jack sat up and brushed himself off. The whole field was covered in dead, brown grass. A stone monument rested near the tree. He went to read it. It read,13

'A massacre happened here at Red Park and killed many men, women, and children during the spring of 1890. A whole town once stood here, but it was leveled and burnt.The wind blew away the ashes. This monument rests by the tree for the tree to signify strength when covered with leaves, then the blood shed with it's red leaves falling. We ask you to put all the people that died here in your prayers and do your best to remember all the suffering.'14

Jack looked around and then started walking towards where he exited the woods. Halfway there, he stopped. A bud rose sat in front of him. Near it lay an envelope halfway covered in dirt. On it, it said Jack. He turned it over to find the seal broken, but he still continued to look inside:15

Dear Jack, 12/28/188916

I dearly wish to see you one more time. I count the days and nights until the time that we get to meet again.17

Love,18

Rose19

... He walked on after picking the rose.20

... He now knew why it was called Red Park.21

We spread roses for the dead, for the ones that we love, but what happens when the dead, the ones that love us, give us the roses? But, then again, what happens when no one knows where to spread the roses?