She made her way to a peaceful location in the province. Soft winds brushed against her, and the location was devoid of life, besides the lush greenery and the occasional native cat nearby. The land was filled with inscribed stones, the memorials of loved ones.

She made her way to her mother's memorial. The date was the same as today, just two years ago. It had some gifts from relatives still on it, and there were no roses on it. She died due to her chronic illness..

She remembered Mother's Day, when she was 6 years old. She gave her mother a handmade card, when she was getting off work. Her mother was sad the year before, when she didn't give her anything. So she gave her a beautiful glittery card.

"Aww how cute!" Her office mates said.

"I know, isn't my daughter such a sweetheart."

But when they got home, she was met with another reaction.

"I made you take art classes for a reason. Why is this so ugly?"

"..."

"You've taken after your father again, even in this aspect."

She shredded it into pieces and dropped it on the floor.

"Pick it up and throw the trash you've made." She said then left.

She remembered again, when she went with her mother to shop for clothes.

"Mommy, can I have something like this too?", a kid in the store told her mother.

"Sure sweetheart, but why would you want to have clothes like your mommy?"

"So that we could match mommy!"

"Aww I love you my cutie pie."

While she was there, looking at her mother pick clothes for herself. She was only there because her mother was required to look after her. After her father separated from her mother, she wore the same clothes for five years, plain, bland, cheap, easily worn out, disassociating her from her mother. She only had a handful of beautiful clothes she could wear for special occasions that were once in a blue moon.

Then, Lilian remembered how she went to her mother's greenhouse garden in the backyard of her home. She wandered off there when she was five. She saw a magical world with beauty and life she had never seen before. She smelled the roses and it smelled delightful. In her small hands, she held one of the flowers in her hand.

However her mother was nearby, she smacked it off her hands.

"Who told you you could come here?"

"You didn't tell me I couldn't"

"YOU ONLY GO WHERE I TELL YOU TO GO."

"Just like your father, you cannot follow simple instructions! Therefore just like your father, you do not deserve any delights in your life."

"These flowers are only meant for me! If you dare to pluck these roses ever again I'll pluck off your fingers with my gardening tools."

"I didn't-"

"Don't talk back to me. Go to your room."

Once she scuttled away, she heard through the door of her room the complaints of her mother.

"Ugh, stupid child touched my Juliet roses. She doesn't know how they are worth so much more than her life.

Back then, she felt the ominous presence of her mother, the glare in her eyes, but what was worse was how confused she was, to have a mother that once loved her, but does not anymore.

Then, her memory of her three years ago overlapped with that glare. Two years ago, she looked at her with a pitiful look on her face,

"Take care of my garden. Make yourself useful."

It was like she was once again telling her, 'This is the reason I birthed you. I molded you to become a useful person. Be grateful to me. This is the least you could do.'

She placed on her grave the Juliet roses.

"You already know what I do to the prettier ones."

"..."

"I will continue to do what I have done."

"..."

"I will never give you anything ever again."

"..."

"...Goodbye, mommy."