Crush of a Rose

         He smashed the vase down on his desk, shattering its glass existence into a thousand tiny pieces.

         "What the hell did you do?" came his mother's voice, rushing down the hallway. Ironically, the flower that had previously resided in the vase still stood in his hand. A single rose given to him by Isabel as a "parting gift" had caused his infuriation to boil until it surged out of him, lighting fires in his mind as the molten frustration flowed along his limbs. He contemplated having let his anger become destructive, but the release felt too satisfying to regret. Glancing at the rose he was now holding in his grip, he laughed. The beautiful rose causing destruction and pain - he had also crushed part of the neck in his hand and other shards had skittered across his desk and floor - seemed like the perfect and most ironic metaphor for Isabel. After warily crossing his room and incurring two more injuries from the glass, he awkwardly hobbled down the hall as fast as possible so as to not leave a noticeable amount of blood.

         "What did you do?" his mother called again, this time without the hurried adrenaline caused by the breaking glass sound.

         "I just tipped over the vase, sorry."

         "Be more careful, you little idiot. Vases don't grow on trees, I don't have a vase tree in the back. They cost damn money, little shit. You're going to have to pay me back for that. You understand? The whole price, cause I'm gonna need a replacement." No she didn't, she had a cupboard full of unused vases, but she didn't care so he just responded with a quiet affirmation of her request. He made it to the bathtub, ignoring his mother's further reprimanding. The luke-warm water stung his feet and hand. Miraculously, none of the cuts were deep, and he could cover them with a few bandages. Getting stitches might have been a good idea, but he'd live without.

         After cleaning up as much glass as he could find, he sat back down and looked at the rose. It'd be a pity to just throw it away, it was beautiful, but it couldn't stay. So he threw it out back among the bushes, somewhere he'd never see it again.