The Rosebush

A familiar glint caught Sawyer’s eye. There it was, peeking out from underneath the trampled, rotting rose bushes. The heart-shaped locket that belonged to her mother. “Oh thank goodness!!” she exclaimed, and gingerly picked up the necklace. In it was a faded picture of a much younger Sawyer sitting in her mother’s lap, laughing, face turned up to the sun, hands covered in sticky ribbons of melted strawberry ice cream as Rufus, their family dog, sat by their feet, tongue out in anticipation of catching a dribble of a sweet treat. Sawyer sighed.

She remembered this moment like it was yesterday, and yet as she looked around, nothing was recognizable anymore. The yard she used to camp out in on warm summer nights was now a patch of dirt enclosed by an electric fence. The beautiful bright blue house she grew up in was now gray, tattered, and had no roof. And the rose bushes - the ones her mother used to so lovingly care for - were now just a dried up pile of thorns that crackled in the wind. Sawyer stared at them for a while, wistfully remembering all the bits of wisdom and advice her mother would give her as she was gardening. “Remember honey,” her mother would say, “sometimes we need to prune things off in order to preserve the plant. And sometimes, we need to do this with people too...”

She was referring to Sawyer’s father of course. He was a brilliant man but he was also cold, distant, and mean. He was never not working or thinking about working or annoyed that people kept interrupting him while he was working. Perpetually crankly, he was someone Sawyer avoided at all costs. No eye contact, no conversation, no crossing paths in the hallway. She was perfectly invisible and liked to keep it that way. She learned to recognize the sound of her father’s footsteps, the sound of different doors opening and closing in the house, and maintained her invisibility until her parents’ eventual divorce. Irreconcilable differences. He didn’t even say goodbye. Not that it mattered anyway, it’s not like they ever really knew each other in the first place. Sawyer had her mom and Violet, and that was all she needed.

“Did you find it?!” said Violet.

Sawyer sniffed and looked up to see her childhood best friend running up to her. “Yeah,” Sawyer said, fighting back tears. “It was right here actually.” Sawyer looked back down at the rose bushes.

Violet wrapped her arm around Sawyer’s shoulders, knowing how much she was trying to put on a brave face. “It’s okay,” Violet whispered, “I miss her too.”

Sawyer took a deep breath. “I wish I didn’t--”

“Don’t. Your mom knew how much you loved her,” Violet responded, looking Sawyer in the eyes. “She wouldn’t want you doing this to yourself Sawyer. You couldn’t have known.”

Sawyer stared at her feet as she took another deep breath. “I guess so,” she said quietly. She clutched the locket in her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze before slipping it into her jacket pocket.

As Sawyer and Violet made their rounds around Sawyer’s childhood home -- checking the electric fence, locking up the front gate, confirming visibility in the security cameras -- she tried to force the memories of her mother out of her mind. “I guess tonight's going to be another sleepless night,” Sawyer whispered to herself.

It was always the worst on the night of a new moon. It was when the Gnorfaxen were the most ravenous. No one knew where they came from or even what exactly they were, but the screams of those they captured were unmistakable. Especially for Sawyer. Her mother was one of the first victims of the monthly Gnorfaxen hunting spree, and twelve years later, Sawyer still remembers every detail of what happened that night. She played them over and over in her mind as punishment. It was her fault they took her mother after all.

Sawyer had insisted on camping out in the yard again - it was a beautiful, clear night, perfect for stargazing. Her mother wanted her to stay in so they could watch a movie together, but it was the last thing Sawyer wanted to do. Now, it was all she could ever think about. Had they not been out there, the Gnorfaxen wouldn’t have come and--

“Oh my god, Sawyer, did you hear that?!?”, whispered Violet, terror in her eyes.

Sawyer’s eyes darted to the security camera footage. “There’s someone outside the gate--look,” Sawyer said as she ushered Violet closer to the screen.

“Who the--what in the?! What do we do?”

“Well we can’t leave them out there.”

“But what if it’s a--”

“No, it’s not. I’ve seen one before, and they don’t look like that… C’mon we need to help them before it’s too late.”

Violet hesitated. “Okay… but I’m bringing the flamethrower with me just in case.”

“Wouldn’t hurt,” Sawyer shrugged. “I’ll bring the machete with me too.”

As they headed upstairs and out toward the gate, Sawyer felt a strange tingle go down her neck. One she hadn’t felt since her mother was taken. Then, she stopped in her tracks, frozen at the sight of who was on the other side of her gate.

It was her mother.