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Christmas Rose

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Chương 1: Why you are Helle

"A long ago, in Bethlehem, on the night of Christmas, a girl cried as she did not have any gifts to bring, and when her tears touched the ground, the Christmas rose bloomed." Lorraine pressed her hand on her daughter's head, caressing with the feather-like hair of her child.

"But how does it form a connection to my name?" Helle inquired, her voice crisp and clear, holding innocent curiosity, but Lorraine had no strength to speak.

She simply gazed at her child, unsure of whether the little one would even be able to understand the term 'scientific name' or 'I will leave you because your father is an unbearable man'. It would be too cruel for a child who had yet to see the world, right? Instead, she gently placed her warm palm against the little girl's eyes and whispered, "I will share and tell you tomorrow. Good night"

There was silence. Helle didn't answer, but rather, something moist pressed on Lorraine's palm.

"You always say that! I just... I just want to know! What's wrong with it?" Being a little over six years old, Helle threw a tantrum, unknown to her, that her mother was tired. Tired of everything. The world. Her husband and now, even her daughter.

"Listen Helle. Be quiet and sleep." The sudden change in the mother's temperament made the child stop her fits and sleep.

"Helle, have you tended the floors? Uh, everything is untidy." Lorraine had grown older as the years passed. The month of gratitude, November, had come to the doorstep, while everything had remained the same or even worse over the years.

"I'll clean them up right away," Helle replied from the bathroom. Tying her hair into a bun before turning on the cold water. It was cold. Goosebumps appeared on my hands and thighs, but the water didn't stop.

While exfoliating the dead cells, Helle took a glance at the mirror. She was now twenty-two. The bags under the eyes indicated her lack of sleep. Her hands were cracked in certain places, and the texture was rough, but it was fixable with some moisturizer and glycerin.

It had been a few years since her father had passed away, and although she had graduated from university, she was the only one stuck in this tiny town. After all, she couldn’t leave this place—not until they won the case.

The water ran through her, soaking and waking her senses, giving her the true meaning of being awake and alive.

"Helle, what is taking you so long?" Lorraine's shill voice showcased the thin patience.

"Coming!" she instantly stopped all her thoughts and closed the water tap. Changing into a dress and an apron, Helle ran down the stairs. Along the stairs were plenty of pictures of herself and her mother.

"Look at you. When will you learn? The dishes aren't done, and the floor isn't cleaned. Always only ever looking at me, expecting me to do everything. Tsk, just like your father. Insolent." Just as Helle appeared, she was bombarded with mean words, which she had gotten used to.

"Now clean the floor! What are you glaring at? I will be leaving for the town, so be sure to make no faults." With those empty threats, Lorraine left the house while Helle took the dried mop from the back garden and started to clean.

Her hand clutched the wooden stick tighter than usual as she moved it on the floor, which had mold and cracks. Biting her lower lip to control the frustration, Helle continued with her daily chores. Hoping that the case would somehow take a turnover. Hoping that she could one day take her mother out of this filthy town.

While it was maybe eight am in the early morning, Helle started to prepare for the dishes. But firstly, she took out her phone and turned on the camera. Capturing her cooking skills and the entire process of dishes.

"Ting~" The bell on top of the door rang. Helle, who was writing her analytical critique for the book she had just completed, was startled to the core. Her hand swirled an unusual doodle on the text copy, and her lips gaped.

A man wearing a loose black shirt that was folded up to her elbows walked inside casually with frustrated eyes. 'Tsk," he clicked his tongue while running his hand through his hair, which was a mix of chestnut brown and jet black.

"Is it a restaurant?" He murmured. The fresh, earthy scent mixed with the different flowers roamed in the room.

Meanwhile, Helle walked towards the counter, expecting the taunting neighbour or her relatives, or, she hoped not, her fiancé, but instead an irresistibly handsome man had arrived. His hands were inside his pocket. Quick to notice the heavy gold chain on his left wrist, she was startled when the man spoke, "What do you have here?"

"Uh?" She was dumbfounded. Never had she encountered such a handsome man with such a striking aura. His presence filled the room.

"The menu"

"Oh, well, the shepherd's pie and beef with rice, sir." There was a slight stagger in her voice. The man had a very strong presence. While he spoke very little, his expressions were like an open book. The way he rolled his eyes, knowing that there were only two items, made it clear that he disliked even being there.

"Make me both. Quick," he commanded. Taking a seat at the farthest corner of the room where no one could see him, he took out the phone inside his pants pocket while trying to call.

Within the next ten minutes, Helle brought out the fresh Shepherd's pie and placed it on the table. The plates were the fancy porcelain, too luxurious for a small ragged shop, which made the man raise his brows, but he didn't complain.

The pie had the aroma of fresh herbs and meat, and the pie was flaky and crispy. Still unsure, he took a bite of it, hoping to not get any stomach aches. To his surprise, it was as good as the restaurants in the city. Keeping the poker expression, he continued to devour both items, savouring them until there was nothing.

"Ting~" The doorbell rang. Helle, who was busy making the dessert as a complementary, left the stove and peered at the door. The customer had left no traces. Quickly wiping her hands, she rushed to the table.

'oh no...' The sudden rush of adrenaline passed through her blood after all; what was she supposed to do? They had barely gotten one customer, and she had yet to get the money!

Taking a deep breath in, she gazed at the table and saw empty plates and a few coins. Only then did she feel slight relief. Walking back to the stove, Helle stirred the liquid and turned down the heat.

"What a weird man!" Helle said, collecting the cash on the table. It was three times the original price, yet he quickly left. What was he doing here? In the small country area where there was barely any unity.

'Perhaps he's an investor.' That said, while wiping the table. That afternoon, once she was done preparing the food, Helle went up to her room and started to edit the videos she had taken. They were just a few meagre videos, just a way to cherish the only dream she had left.

Adding a gradient rustic feel to the video, she posted it on her account "Christmas Rose," feeling somewhat content, yet she only had a few hundred people, and the views barely reached about a hundred.

'Uh,' she sighted standing up from her seat. The way her videos had little to no progress was just like her life. 'Let's hope for the best.' reminding herself to be positive, she walked downstairs to clear up the dirty dishes. Time had flown by as the soaring sun started to set little by little.

Wiping the tables and floor, suddenly the door opened once again.

'Um? Mum has returned earlier today' Helle raised her head, "Welcome-." The presence of the person made her choke her words, and her stature frozen. Unable to do anything. Her lips were quick to shut and set into a thin line.

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