One - Roses Without The Red

Hiya readers! Her Immense Curse volume 2 is here and I'm starting to write more and more of it! I hope you all enjoy it as much as me.

"And what would you like for your birthday Micheal?", my grandfather was patronising when asking me what I desired for a day that I take no thought into whatsoever. He suddenly closed his eyes and gave out a little smirk, "you sure do keep a lot of things from me huh", my eyes blinked wanting to focus to the side but they directed back to him, "no I'm not a sequestered being pops". Washing the dishes with mildly warm water grandfather fell asleep on his sofa, whilst I saw my own reflection through the ceramic plate every so slightly in the blur. My mind envisioned a smile of a lady that I had thought about a lot five years ago, she seemed lovely.

"Micheal you new someone didn't ya?", my grandfather slowly opens one eye looking at me sneakily. Nodding he sat up straightening his back, "oh boy I new a wonderful woman when I was your age too!", I wasn't expecting to hear that actually and when washing my last dish my head told me to sit with him and listen.

"She was beautiful, with the biggest eyes and fairest of skin that seemed to never brake. You see I fell in love with her exactly when I laid my boring eyes on her, taking my hat off to pay respects to whatever god there is out there that made this being."

Listening to grandfather talk about his first love struck a smile on my frown, it reminded me of experiences I should be looking for in life now that I'm a successful lawyer with descent earnings.

After a case that we had received of an old man that was convicted of a murder that wasn't his fault, everyone could see it in his eyes; erupted my sadness. It came back once again and my will power weakened. Walking into my old room at the care home my eyes begin to water feeling an emptiness in my heart, who was she? When did it all end? Where is she? Looking around my room braking everything with force ripping off my blazer, Mary rushed in and tried stopping me. "MICHAEL STOP! YOU ARE HURTING YOURSELF!", pushing her away I cry and cry with pain until something dropped from the top of my closet. A gift.

Later on me and Carer Mary sat together with tea and my hands with bandages they opened the gift gently, it brought back memories; memories of a girl with light red hair who smiled every second that my eyes opened to view her. The gift was a book, very old one with a title of:

"Her Immense Curse", me and Carer Mary where in shock and looked at each-other. What book is this and why did she give it to me, "who gave this to you Michael?". Pausing for a while closing my eyes as my eyelashes laid gently, "it was a woman called Ladybug". Carer Mary let out a sudden surprised look and then a worried one looking to the side playing with her hair, "was she a possible lover Mister?". With concentration I didn't want to answer her as even I had no idea what my feelings where towards that woman from my past. Opening my eyes, "I have to go now thank you for the help Carer Mary".

She nodded and escorted me to the exit after saying goodbye to my grandfather.

When pressured to feel the need to read something that doesn't seem yours hits it is a hard challenge to face, this goes with any object that is not yours and you are using it. But what made me more nervous is the thoughts of why she gave me this book, this story; what will it teach me? When was it written. And the worst of it all the only way I found out the answer to these questions in my head is by reading the damn thing.

I stare at it walking around my room holding my chin "what is this? Could it be a bomb!?", she would bomb me!? Panicking I grab my shoe and throw it at the book jumping behind my sofa... after minutes lifting my head up to look at the book, "no she wouldn't bomb me. I'm so stupid". After preparing all reading materials, cookies, coffee, a light, bookmarks, notes in case I need to remember something I finally sit down and prepare my mentality for this journey.

The discovery of Ladybug; opening the first page my eyes read cautiously:

'This diary belongs to Elijah Lawton from New York'

'1929, 10 of September being a Saturday.'

'My small legs where already growing as I walked beside my mother listening to her favourite jazz in the eye catching performances of New York'

'I found myself distracted as I was looking at my mother she smiled allowing me to fall by accident, watery eyes and sniffles began to occur until something was rubbing my face with such a soft touch. Looking up immediately it was a shining woman who looked like an opera singer of some sort, she gave me a little handkerchief and left'

'In this current time I'm a thirty one year old man with great ambitions of achieving to become the lions share successful writer, yet i shall not lie to you or myself but my writing still has a long way to go when it comes to being a literature king. We learn through experiences and studying, being a politics student in the nineteen six-tees meant that the civil rights movement will be marked on you for the rest of your time. It was a beautiful movement, the celebration of humanity in equal rights no matter the colour of your skin.'

'The summer of nineteen sixty me and my colleague students decided to take a trip down to France, in hopes that my inspiration will kick in within me. We had arrived in Lake Geneva with our travel bags, "here we are everyone make sure to get the rooms you where assigned too", all of the colleagues ran fast into the three star hotel. It was still a good one to say the least, giving you the necessities needed. Standing outside the hotel my watch caught my attention as it responded with the wrong time as America.'

"It is half past two Monsieur"

'A gentle voice ascended beside me as I turned it was a small looking woman with long bright hair, she whore a floral long dress that suited her physique perfectly. It was as if she was an authentic doll human sized talking to me.'

"Merci, and what is your name Mademoiselle if you do not mind me asking?"

'She chuckled shaking her head a bit walking towards me she lifted her arm to poke the tip of my nose'

"My name is Felicia"

'My eyes blinked watching her every move cautiously, unable to react fast if she will poke my nose again or not. She didn't. In fact she began to speak to me normally and her English was quite delightful to listen too, it had a slight french accent but it was perfect for my ears to receive.'

'Felicia'