The Little flower | Teen Ink

The Little flower

July 6, 2011
By LostinMusic SILVER, Los Lunas, New Mexico
LostinMusic SILVER, Los Lunas, New Mexico
6 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
Every end always has a new beginning...
Imagination always wins...


I see darkness, than every little second I see flashes of light in thee distance. The flashes start coming faster and faster.I could see figures, but thee picture was to foggy like a blurred camera lens to see. Then just like that I am standing in a field. Its endless withe grass, but the grass is burned, thee sky is dark and depressing withe strikes of lighting wrapping around it. I spot something in thee middle of thee field; its a sad weathered old tree. Everything looks like its died slowly. I started walking carefully towards thee tree. Each step I took felt like every ounce of pain in thee world has settled in this spot. As I get closer, I see a girl. Shes young, but not too young. Her hair is flat withe a faded color of brown. She is pretty, except she looks furious. Her hands are clenched so hard you can see thee indents when she lets go. She looks down at thee ground, her face filled withe pure hate. She gets up and starts to walk toward a spot on thee ground. Each step she takes you can feel thee air static and tense. She stops in front of a piece of burned grass. I can see her arm tense as if she's ready to throw a punch. Everything in that moment slows, I can tell every minute and second her arm moves, but when she gets to thee spot she was aiming for she stops. All thee hate leaves her face; I could see her green eyes clear. She walks back to thee tree and sits down as if it's was a simple act, but this time she sits withe a smile. I try to talk, but I can't. Then I realize in this moment, I don't exist. I look back at thee spot that made her furious, but I see nothing. But as I look closer under all that burned grass was a little blue flower. I can't understand why she could ruin everything else, but not this tiny flower. Then it click this flower was her happiness; all of it was, but for a reason I may never know why this flower meant everything to her. Then like noting ever happened it vanishes, and I am in darkness again.



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