Rose Coffin

by M. P. Kozlowsky

  Her mother’s hands fell on her shoulders, rubbing them. “Speak, Rose. He can hear you. I know he can.”

  This is it, Rose thought, and it was as if she were reliving her first visit to this room. Let him hear you. Wake him up. Bring him home. It’s what you fought for.

  She squeezed his hand even harder. She raised her chin. She moved closer, her lips practically brushing his ear. You can do this.

  With a small burst from her lungs, her lips parted, and she spoke, clear and strong. “I’m here, Hy. It’s me, Rose. I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long. I needed to be stronger for you, like you’ve always been strong for me. But right now I need you to listen to my voice. Please. If you can hear me, give me a sign. Anything. Let me know you’re still there. Let me know you’re still fighting.”

  Trembling, she searched his face for a sign. She watched his eyes, his lips. She kept entirely still, so as to not miss a thing. She refused to blink. She refused to breathe. But seconds passed. Then minutes.

  Her mother’s hands tightened over her shoulders, and Rose closed her eyes, her throat raw with pain.

  Did she actually fail? Was the Abomination still tearing through Eppersett? Is that why the queen didn’t follow through on her promise? Or was it all a dream? Did none of it actually happen? Was there no strength in her after all?

  She lowered her head, tears dropping on the sheets. A deep sigh escaped her lips. It was time to go. She began to pull away, and that was when she felt her brother’s fingers tighten around hers.

  Rose had never been so happy going to school. Her father had woken her, and he looked like a new man, his guilt about the accident finally replaced with hope. He had even prepared a grand breakfast waiting on the table. She felt like a new person, one who was ready to conquer the world. It was the feeling she had been waiting twelve years for.

  She entered the school, practically throwing the doors open, announcing her arrival. A broad smile was on her face, and she nodded at everyone who was staring at her. Some were snickering, some made comments, but Rose didn’t care. She was through hiding. Nothing but life was ahead of her.

  Chin up, striding toward her first class, her backpack bouncing on her narrow shoulders, she saw Mr. Fendorf, her favorite teacher, in the hall, lab coat billowing as he tried to remove something taped to the wall. Rose had seen these flyers up all over the place, but in her euphoria she couldn’t be bothered to stop and take a look at them. But when she noticed how Mr. Fendorf reacted when he spotted her—the look of both surprise and terror as he quickly tore the paper off the wall—a sinking feeling emerged in her gut.

  “Ignore them,” Mr. Fendorf said when she reached him. “They know not what they do.”

  “What is it?” Rose asked, the familiar dark cloud of middle school closing in.

  “You … you didn’t see?”

  “See what?”

  Mr. Fendorf crumpled up the paper and put it behind his back. “It’s nothing. Forget it. Go on ahead to class.”

  Rose turned her gaze and saw the same yellow paper lining the entire hallway, the entire school for that matter, one every few feet. She walked over to one and pulled it down.

  It was a Wanted poster, like back in the Old West, only this one had Rose’s picture on it—a horrible one at that—and instead of “Wanted” it said “UNWANTED.”

  Mr. Fendorf walked up behind her. “We’ll find out who’s responsible, Rose. I promise. They won’t get away with it.”

  Rose felt her throat constrict. “I already know who it is.”

  “You do? Tell me. Let us handle it.”

  “No, Mr. Fendorf. Thank you. But I’ve got this.”

  Rose barreled off down the hall. She didn’t stick to the walls like she usually did, her shoulder brushing up against the lockers, ducking the crowds and cowering in the shadows of the school. She walked dead center, and this time everyone moved out of her way. She stormed through the east wing of the building until she spotted SallyAnn’s locker at the far end. Sure enough, she was there, surrounded by her friends, all of them cackling their heads off in the most obnoxious way possible.

  “Sally!” Rose shouted, but it wasn’t loud enough. She took a deep breath. “SALLY!”

  SallyAnn’s laughter cut off as if there were a switch. She glared down the suddenly hushed hall, her brows raising at what she saw. “Rosie!” She slammed her locker closed and made her way closer, shoving two kids aside—the boy and the girl who were holding hands went flying into the lockers—and, arms crossed, stood facing Rose. “It’s SallyAnn.”

  A crowd immediately gathered, pushing in tight. Rose could feel a hundred eyes on her. But she didn’t shrink in their presence. If anything, she grew. And not once did her face turn red or her voice go weak. “And you can call me Rose.”

  “I’ll call you—”

  Rose shoved the flyer in SallyAnn’s face. “You responsible for this?”

  SallyAnn lowered Rose’s arm, but Rose shot it back up, the flyer remaining an inch from her nose. When she tried it again, the same thing happened.

  Finally, SallyAnn said, “It’s just a joke. Relax.”

  From down the hall came the shouts of teachers saying to break it up and get to class.

  Rose, a familiar tingle running through her body, crumpled up the flyer and threw it at SallyAnn’s chest. This got the crowd humming, and Rose straightened up even more, a slight smirk breaking out across her face.

  SallyAnn looked from the ball of paper to the crowd of kids encircling them, her lips stuck in a snarl. She backed away, gesturing to the crowd as if putting on a show. “Little tough girl when you know there’s teachers around, aren’t you?”

  “I’m not scared of you anymore, Sally,” Rose said. “I never should have been. You’re a joke. A troubled, insecure mess. And if you don’t do something soon, you’re going to fall apart. And everyone will see it.”

  SallyAnn looked as if she had been slapped. Her brow furrowed. Her eyes narrowed, her teeth were bared. Fists raised, she charged forward, and Rose didn’t move an inch. She didn’t even flinch.

  Just before SallyAnn reached her, as Rose felt bigger than the Abomination, Mr. Fendorf jumped between them.

  “SallyAnn!” he snapped. “Let’s take a walk to the main office.” He was holding one of the flyers, and as he escorted her away, Rose thought back to the conversation she’d had with her friends about regrets. It felt so good to finally shed them.

  Unfortunately, it was during the bus ride home that Rose realized that although she was done with SallyAnn, SallyAnn wasn’t done with her. Based on the evil looks being shot Rose’s way from the back of the bus, she knew that when she got off at her stop, SallyAnn and her friends were going to be right behind her.

  When her stop came, Rose, who had been sitting near the front as usual, climbed off the bus. She made sure to do it at a casual pace, even though her heart was racing. Sure enough, SallyAnn and company departed too, ignoring the bus driver’s comments about it not being their stop.

  In the street, as the bus idled beside them, they stared Rose down. One of the girls already had her phone out, recording. Rose knew they were only waiting until the bus was out of sight. It was half a minute, but it felt like forever. Then, when it was gone, SallyAnn pointed at her and cried out, “Get her!”

  Instinct took over and Rose was off and running.

  She knew she had to face them, that it was now or never, but she wanted to do it on her terms. Where she felt safe.

  So instead of heading home, she ran straight into the woods.

  She found the path but didn’t bother to keep to it—there was nothing that frightened her about these woods anymore. The girls’ voices trailed her, all vile comments and horrible threats. Rose ran as fast as she could, and it was like the part of her that had existed in Eppersett returned. She was hurdling fallen trees, darting around branches and bushes, leaping over ditches, and little by little, the voices behind her diminished, until they couldn’t be heard at all
. Eventually, she managed to lose every one of them. All but SallyAnn.

  Rose entered a clearing and came to a halting stop—she had run far enough. When she turned around, SallyAnn was standing at the other end of the clearing, facing her. Her chest was heaving, her hair was a mess, her face flushed. Rose had never seen her like that, so unraveled.

  “No more running, Rosie. You get what’s coming to you,” she said, huffing and puffing. “And you get it now.”

  “You’re right,” Rose said, her breathing steady as her hands. “I’m done running. I’m never running again. From you or anything else.”

  “Good. That’ll make this easy.”

  Rose’s body tightened. She flexed her fingers as her breathing suddenly intensified. Inwardly, she was searching for the strength she had found in Eppersett. The rise of courage, the flow of power. She would call forth a force SallyAnn could never imagine. Her eyes closed, and she felt that familiar tingle. It spread throughout her body.

  SallyAnn stepped forward, a sadistic grin on her face. Her hands were in fists, air shooting from her nostrils like a bull, her eyes locked on Rose. Tossing her head side to side, SallyAnn exaggerated Rose’s voice, a sad and whiny tone. “ ‘Please, I want to be in your band! I want a life! I’m a loser and my brother’s a vegetable!’ ” And then she guffawed so hard she bent over.

  Rose’s entire body was humming with energy now. She extended her arms, a large wingspan, and her fists opened up.

  It was like Rose had unfolded the world. She could hear it stretching and pulling. The trees were moving all around her.

  SallyAnn heard the noise too, and her laughing stopped. She looked up, a bewildered stammer escaping her mouth. Aghast, she tried to back away but fell right on her back.

  Rose never turned around. She didn’t have to. The trees moved right past her as if they were her personal army. She could hear them whispering, “She’s the one. The sacrifice.”

  Slowly, they encircled SallyAnn. Rose watched as her tormentor grew small, raising her hands in defense, cowering before the strange sight. “What’s going on? What’s happening? Rose!”

  The trees’ branches extended, wrapping around SallyAnn’s body. They lifted her high into the air.

  “Let go of me!” SallyAnn cried. She was actually bawling now, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  The trees carried her back past Rose and out of the clearing. Rose turned around to watch them depart for Eppersett and whatever new danger faced them. Gazing out into the forest, where one world met the next, she saw three figures in the distance. One was on four legs, one had a new set of wings, and the other was gold.

  Rose waved to them, her heart twisting up tight inside her, and when they waved back, it unwound so fast she nearly fell down. A part of her wanted to go back, but she knew that it wasn’t possible. Eppersett no longer needed her, and she no longer needed Eppersett.

  As the trees carried SallyAnn off, Rose heard her desperately call out to her.

  “Rose, please! Help! Help me! Rose!”

  But Rose didn’t help. This was the moment of SallyAnn’s struggle. Would she fight or would she succumb? The answer would make all the difference.

  M. P. Kozlowsky is the author of Frost, Juniper Berry, and The Dyerville Tales. He lives in New York with his wife and two daughters.

  Copyright © 2019 by M. P. Kozlowsky

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available

  First edition, October 2019

  Jacket art © 2019 by Julian Callos

  Jacket design by Baily Crawford

  e-ISBN 978-1-338-31049-8

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