The ghost of a rose wilted in the city.

	Triggers and things that may disgust you ahead. Be prepared for a wild ride in this story.

	To not exist, while still existing. A fate I'm trapped in, never to return. I'm just a vagrant soul, wandering through the world. Strange people make me happy, and those who succumb to the average out of fear disgust me. I'd decided I was sick of observing, and today I'll start to live. I just needed to find the perfect host, and then I could return for the duration of their life. Then I'll be forced to restart the cycle of hiding in fear, waiting for opportunity to leave this world of nothing. 

“Isn't that a terrible way of thinking? If you changed your mind, you could simply create a world where you're not there.” The girl I knew as Rose said. The name was due to that personality being wonderful to experience, yet covered in thorns if something undesirable were to happen, in that both you and those close would just suddenly die. There was no second chance, or a way out, but certain death awaited the victims of Rose. I was called Ghost, due to the fact that unlike the rest, I don't truly exist at all. I'm real only when possessing someone, yet as soon as they're dead, everyone simply forgets that they existed. I'm only remembered while I'm alive, except by those who only exist in the world that doesn't exist. That's why I loved her, because we both didn't exist together. 

“I guess. That would really be mean to my host, although I don't care about them anyway. I'm really getting sick of observing, although there's no alternative that doesn't end in death.” I told her. “Oh. Perhaps instead of not existing, and being stuck seeing, we could choose to see this world with our own eyes. Become a human with me, please?” Rose said, with her legless body that shined with all the beauty of a rose seeming to become something more. “I guess I might have to, considering if I don't enter reality soon, things won't be the same for me anymore.” I said, and we began our search.

The world that wasn't real

Triggers and things that may disgust you ahead. Be prepared for a wild ride in this story. Chapter two of "The ghost of the rose that wilted in the city"

I began to fall, until I was in the middle of a grid of skyscrapers. There were roads and sidewalks connecting them, but nothing was so much as an inch off the grid layout. It was perfect within about a millimeter. The buildings went high enough that if I decided to climb one, if I reached the top I was likely to get hit in the head with a plane. They were so huge that I was unable to see the tops through the earths clouds, nor the city's clouds. The people there were all the same, and it was horrible. There weren't any major differences when they all wore there masks. I wanted them to shatter, but that would cause bad things to happen. Worse things would happen if they continued to ignore what they felt, and never broke the mask on their own. Rose had finally followed me here, and I noticed that something was off about her. Nothing major enough that I felt the need to ask, because she always seems to be off randomly.

“The masks are on here, but there are places where they break.” Rose said, “If you want to find someone strange enough for you, I'll help.” She said, with her face in the light of the city becoming even more beautiful than it was when there were just the two of us. Very few humans came close to being that pretty, and that personality was like cake. “Yes, I'd like to finally find a host I can approve of, due to having the courage to not become a slave to society.” I replied. “There's buildings nearby where people don't live in fear. There's places where people live lives they enjoy here.” She told me, as if she understood the feelings I had to people like that. The stranger the differences, the better I felt watching them. It made me happy to see someone like that.

“OK, here's the first building where things are normal.” Rose said to me, smiling. I just ran straight into a room, and was greeted with a horrific sight. There was a man on the end of that rope in the ceiling. His body was coated in scars like his heart had been. He must have been unable to accept himself, and drowned in his pain. This is why I like those with courage to be different. They won't die on me, and I won't find them in a crane from the ceiling. I didn't want things to have to be that way for the person I'd become. I want her to have a reason to live, and interests that others couldn't approve of. Those are a sign of strength, wearing the mental chains that come with it. Provided I could join in, she would live.
Words or Knives?


Triggers and things that may disgust you ahead. Be prepared for a wild ride in this story. Chapter three of "The ghost of the rose that wilted in the city"

	I was still concerned after walking into that room. “Rose, there was a suicidal man in there. Are you sure this is the right place? That's only something that happens when you resist the love of the world.” I asked her, unsure of her response. “Well, there's some resistance everywhere. This place also has people who accept themselves for who they are.” Rose explained to me. “Alright, I'll let you pick our second room.”  I told her, hoping she had a better sense of happiness than I do. 

	“2-0-5; second floor.” Rose said. I followed her, to the door that read “2-0-5”, that had the two other letters scratched out. That made me feel uneasy, but we entered, and I saw something like I was hoping for. The woman inside here was odd, definitely. Her clothes were expensive, and frilly. Her hair was filled with expensive ornaments. Then I looked closer, and found the beautiful woman had a secret. This “Girl” was neither male or female. She seemed to be able to switch between the two at will. I was impressed, and was happy. “Rose, what do you think? She OK?” I asked her, unsure myself of whether a host that was close to me was worth it. “I think we should look more.” As we began to leave the room, something was odd. I noticed that writing appeared on the walls, and the rooms temperature dropped to 60 degrees Fahrenheit, from the 70 degrees earlier. “Words or Knives? You decide.” It read as though it was a threat.

	 I thought for a second, and the answer was obvious. Knives are better, because it's a pain that goes away. The pain of a word never dies, it repeats, cycles, changes, and makes others suffer again. “The answer is words.” Rose said. “No, the answer is knives. Words never die, but the pain of a knife goes away eventually.” I told her. “But there are no kind knives. There are kind words.” she explained. “I haven't thought of it like that.” I said, and suddenly, the clock on the wall began counting down. “20:00, 15:00” it said. That girl seemed to be confused. “Should one of us save her?” I asked. “No, whatever she did to warrant this is a crime. God's made his move, and this 'woman' shall atone.” Rose said, as she began to laugh. “This isn't justice. Suffering isn't the answer.” I said, as the clock reached zero. “Knives” she said. A knife appeared out of no-where, and cut between each of her fingers. “How tasty…” Rose said, as if this scene didn't matter to her. 

	“Rose, why are you acting like this?” I asked. “This scene is less intense than the hell I went through in my previous 2 lives. I was a child soldier in one, and the hallucinations and withdrawal wouldn't stop after their experiments. Having fingers cut open is nothing like that pain. The other one, I was kidnapped. This man would cut every inch of my body with his knife, and if anything looked like he could cut it off, he pulled it off with his own hands. Scenes like this will never affect me like they did ever again.” Rose explained, and the memories brought tears to her eyes. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you.” I told her. “Mine were all more pleasant than that. I didn't realize that earth was that close to hell. I'm an ignorant fool,  and I'm sorry for it.” I told her. “There's no reason for you to apologize. It's my fault, and mine alone.” Rose said. “Now, let's get out of here. I don't want to watch this any longer.” I said. The real world might be more than it seemed on it's surface. It looks like a good place, but this is insane. These apartments are cursed or something, but they're still more interesting than my world.




	“Now it's your turn to pick a room!” Rose said, with her face still reflecting a beauty I'd never found before. After that last room, I'm more concerned about what's next. There also has to be something behind this, and it's likely not human. I'd heard myths of “Tsuu the rogue”, a soul that loves pain. I'd also heard that they're a kind person, who seems to love everyone, but I don't get how they're both the same person, so someone has to be lying. “The one across the hall.” I said. 

	The door read “2-4–3”, with the same spaces scratched away. I hoped this wasn't a sign, because I don't want to see that again. I could already hear the screams from outside the door, and they weren't good. “Why can't you bother to at least try to understand how I feel?” A masculine voice screamed at someone, as if he were in tears. “Freaks like you don't even deserve to be understood. The fact remains that you are someone who's not normal. Those who bother to engage in things like that and enjoy it… are freaks and demons in a human body.” A more feminine voice seemed to be upset, but she sounded a lot like the other voice's mom. “Rose, I'm sorry. I can't go in there. Can we please find a new room?” I asked her. “I understand, Ghost. Someone's insulting the kind of person you look up to. I wouldn't go in there either.” She said. “So, what room?” She asked, with a concerned face.

“Let's do the one next to the stairs on the next floor.” I said.