Tattered Ribbons

The wooden door swung open revealing an array of torn paper and cut up ribbons. The floor, the bed, the benches were littered with it all. My heart nearly stopped from the shock. What I saw around me was the gift I had spent hours folding, starting over, folding and starting over several more times. I had decorated it with black and purple ribbons, that had been carefully placed to produce a stunning flourish of colour when the origami structure shifted forms. The product of 16 hours of work was given to Rosalie on her birthday this year, and it now lay shredded before me. As I stepped into the room, I spied a note laying on the bed. It boasted a single dreadful word.
Goodbye.

I couldn’t believe it. James gentle, comforting hand on my shoulder was like a train pounding into me. His words were buzzing mosquitoes in my ears. I broke out in sobs, as tears began rolling down my cheek. The screen door downstairs clattered, signaling the return of Rosalie’s parents, and Liz. They were shattered too. They couldn’t even issue a search; we aren’t citizens of a country and the last thing we needed was media attention.

The distraught atmosphere thickened when Arthur, Jack and Peter returned. It hurt more realizing I was the last to know my best friend had run away in the night. Not to mention this was my fault. The arguments of late revolving around Lisa and Courtney had only piled on to the regular pain she suffered, mostly due to her parents. She was gone.

Will she come back? Did she have to destroy my creation? That gift showed how important she was to me, and in defiance, she destroyed it. So many questions are running through my head right now. I can’t believe I did this to her, and didn’t see it coming.
I want my cushion back.
I want my best friend back.
I want my Rosie back…