Chapter 5

She went to throw her bag in her room and not much later, it was her aunt who came home. Her hands were occupied with grocery and clothes bags.

"Hey, I met your best friend out there," Monica said as soon as she saw Regan in the corridor. Her niece could tell she was tired, but from shopping, not work. Monica was a workaholic. "She was such a nice girl."

"Oh, yeah. Vesper," Regan replied. It was weird how Vesper got to know her aunt without her even telling about it. But since they were neighbours, it was already obvious.

"I'm glad you got out of your social shield and made a good friend," the aunt chuckled, giving Regan the bags to carry them upstairs.

Upstairs, she entered Monica's room and placed the bags near the wardrobe. She had to study early today, so that's what she began to do in her own room.

But as she sat on the desk, a heavy, alluring smell hit her nose.

A beautiful red rose placed on the bedside table caught her attention. Why such vivid scent when it was just a rose? But then, she remembered that she hadn't placed it there.

Probably her aunt, she thought. She knew Regan liked roses and had found a beautiful one. Regan remembered her aunt's words that when she was little, she was obsessed with red. She wanted her room painted red, clothes red, hair red, everything red.

And of course, Regan didn't remember it. The scent of the rose was so intoxicating that it started to make her feel dizzy. She picked it up carelessly but immediately regretted it.

The thorns were so sharp they stung her slender fingers and drew beads of blood. Wincing, she dropped the rose and watched it land softly on the floor. She had never seen such thorns before, that were like sharp spikes of metal.

It was strange. A rose seemingly untouchable, almost dangerous. Where did her aunt find this?

She went to wash her hands in the sink and thought about it for a moment. What if she just asked her aunt?

When she turned back to her room, her aunt entered just at the right time. "Hey, dear, I'm going out for a while and the laundry's done. Could you fold it for me?" Monica asked, holding up a basket of clothes.

Regan nodded, hiding her hands with her sleeves. "Sure," she said, taking the basket from her aunt. She had to ask about the rose before Monica left.

"Aunt wait, did you place that rose here?" Regan asked casually, gesturing towards the floor with a nod. Monica looked surprised.

"No, I didn't? Maybe it got here from where I shopped?"

"I don't know," Regan said with a shrug, "But the thorns are like knives. I prickled my fingers."

Monica watched the rose with a frown, "I'll throw it away," she said, walking near the rose and bowing down to get it. She felt the thorns sharper than a knife.

"Seriously," she muttered, her brows furrowing, "where did this came from?" she slid the window open and threw it away. Regan watched, feeling a wave of unease.

Monica left then, saying she'll be back in few hours. Regan's mind was still on the rose. How did the rose got there in her bedside table? It wasn't like she brought the clothes there. Weird.

Her phone buzzed with a notification, drawing her from thoughts. It was a text from Vesper.

"Hey, I'm standing in front of your house. There's something we need to talk about."

Regan felt a knot form in her stomach. She watched from the window, Vesper was there, holding the red rose in her hand. She went downstairs and opened the door. Vesper's expression was unreadable.

"Hey, that rose's got very sharp thorns," Regan said, noticing how her friend was holding it so carelessly.

Vesper looked up at her, something flickering in her brown eyes. "Where did you get this from?" she asked, a hint of accusation in her voice.

"It was just there when I came home," Regan replied in confusion.

Vesper's grip tightened on the rose stem, the metal-like thorns digging into her skin without a flinch. "But how? You mean someone just left it?"

Regan's mouth opened to speak, but closed again. She had just moved in, who would even do this? And why was Vesper so pressed about it? It was just a rose. A dangerous one.

"Well, my aunt said she didn't," she admitted, crossing her arms, "What else am I supposed to think?"

Vesper watched her for a moment, narrowing her eyes. After a long second, she just dumped the rose in the trashcan.

"Probably Mike, that guy from school," she said, rolling her eyes.

Regan's eyebrows scrunched, "What?"

"You know, Mike's that guy in the class who was watching you yesterday," her friend explained nonchalantly, blowing a bubble gum from her mouth. "He must've thrown that inside your room from the window," she added.

Regan's mind raced. Mike? She didn't even know who that was. Was it the guy who had looked at her yesterday? He had followed her home? She didn't know what to make of Vesper's words. Was that why she felt like she was followed?

"Maybe he likes you," Vesper suggested, waiting for Regan's reaction.

"No, no," Regan finally said, shaking her head vigorously. And even if he had done that, the rose was placed too neatly on the table.

"Fine, don't believe me," Vesper shrugged. "Anyway, is your aunt home?"

"No," Regan replied, though now almost absentmindedly.

"Do you want to hang out?"

"Yeah, I guess."

They entered the house. Regan's mind was still rotating. She couldn't believe any of this.

"You want to watch a movie, or you want to do something else?" Vesper asked, throwing herself on the couch as if she owned it.

"I don't know," Regan replied with a shrug, "That rose matter...."

"Come on, it's not a big deal," the other just gave a roll of her eyes, "You can speak to him tomorrow. Or I'll do it if you're shy."

"No no, there's no need," Regan said quickly. "But I had to fold some clothes first," she added, remembering her chores.

Vesper raised an eyebrow, "Oh....fine then. I'll come later."

Regan released a breath after she left.

But the rose's matter wrapped around her like an anxiety vine.

She went back to finish folding her clothes, and then turned to studying. The track of time was lost and she stopped when she heard voices from downstairs.

It was Vesper, engaged in a deep conversation with her aunt. Regan wondered what they could be discussing, speaking like they had known each other for years.

"Hi," she greeted, voice sounding raspy from her lack of water.

"Oh, hi Regan. I was just going to leave," Vesper said with a smile and stood up from her seat. Monica looked at Regan.

"We've been talking for a while and she has a very good sense of humor," she said.

Regan forced a smile, "Yea, Vesper's pretty funny," she replied, her throat burning for water. "I'm going to drink some water."

She left to the kitchen and poured a glass of water. The liquid rolled off her throat, soothing it with its coldness. When she turned back to the living room, Vesper was gone.

"Oh, did she leave?" Regan asked.

"She said it was late," Monica said, taking a sip from her coffee. "And she said something that this Mike guy snuck the rose inside your room."

Regan's eyes widened, "No aunt, I don't think so, I don't even know that guy."

Monica shrugged, "I don't know my dear. It's weird. But if it goes like this, you have to sort it out."

"Yeah, I'll do something about it," Regan muttered, going back to the kitchen. She grabbed a sandwich and ate, the rose still on her mind. She had moved in just yesterday and strange things had started to happen.

Like Vesper, there was something strange about this girl, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. She didn't know if it was normal to feel that way. They just meet a day before after all.

Sleep wasn't coming at all. Regan was left to drink one of those sleeping pills Monica had left for her, and wait for them to work.

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