The garden was full of roses. She couldn’t help but enjoy the intoxicating smells that they were oozing out into the air.

As she wondered between the hedges and mazes of flowers in the moonlight she wondered if there was any way she could find an exit before her parents realized she had sneaked out of her own party.

Finally, she came to a clearing that was surrounded by rose hedges. She stopped in her tracks, because the smells of the garden were changing. Sweet was becoming rotten. Fragrant was becoming pungent.

Holding her nose, she inched her way into the clearing to find the source of the smell. That’s when she finally realized the smell was not coming from a corpse, as she had thought, but from the flowers.

The white roses were secreting a blood-red liquid, staining the petals and dripping down to the ground below. The roses stunk of sorrow and tears, and heartbreak. And that’s why the roses were red in the morning.