His father had burned 'her' body in the backyard as the boy sobbed, but his father didn't kill the fire any less. In his father's perspective, it must be done. 'She' can hurt his son even more, and the boy's wellbeing had been their priority.

The boy ran outside, ignoring his father's yells. He knew what he has to do. He will have her back in his life, no matter what the cost may be. He ran outside, into a flower shop.

"Good day, boy," the florist greeted him. The boy turned his head towards the florist. "The usual?"

"Make it two," the boy requested. The florist nodded as she walked to the back of the store and soon came out, holding two red roses.

"That'll be 5.81 ringgits," she said, handing him the two red roses. He took the money out of his pocket and handed it to her. The florist nodded as he left, heading for where her ashes had been scattered. The boy fell down to his knees as he placed a red rose on the Earth in front of him.

"I'm sorry!" The boy wailed and sobbed. "I'm so sorry!"

No answers entertained him, just as expected. He's sick of it. He's sick of the silence he met each time he tried talking to his mother. He kept kissing the Earth as if it had been his mother. In a way, it had been his mother.

Where is his mother?

His belief stated that she's reborn as an animal or something similar, but where is she really? Is she in Swarga? Dear Shiva, he hoped she's in somewhere one of them, she had been such a kind-hearted lady. He sure hoped she's not in Naraka, she truly doesn't deserve that. He would be furious to know if a lick of red had touched his mother's delicate brown skin.

"Mama, where are you?" The boy freely and shamelessly sobbed, standing on his knees as tears filled both his eyes.

The boy bowed his head as he remembered the one other red rose. He knew what he must do. He knew how to chase back his mother. He will be reunited with her, no matter what.

"Turn rose to knife!" The boy chanted. True to his words, the red rose has turned to a silver knife, serrated and sharp on both of the sides. The boy admired upon the sight of his creation, yes. This will do the job fairly well.

He lifted the knife to his throat, he will slice it. That way, he can't be saved. He doesn't want to be saved. He doubted, will he meet his mother? What if she's in Swarga and he goes to Naraka? What if it's the opposite? What if she's reborn already?

Doesn't matter. He needs to go first to know.

With one move, the knife had slit his throat. Red immediately filled his neck and his vision as he choked on his own blood, gasping for breath. The last thing he had seen had been a red rose. Her red rose.

"GOPAL!"