The Easter Proposal

January 26, 2011
By Anonymous

The copper strands whipped around my head getting caught in my mouth and eyelashes. My face became tight and tense while squinting against the wind. A bell tolled in the distance and I heard the buzzing of music and celebration. The sensation of flying was unlike anything I could ever describe. The music grew louder and I searched the town, hovering lower over the busy intersections until everything went black. Forcing my eyelids open was a difficult task. Unceremoniously, I raised my head from my comfortable pillow and reached a blind hand toward my radio alarm searching for the off button. The music was so much more inviting from 50 feet in the air. I glanced at my calendar, it was Tuesday. Tuesday was the hardest day of the week. It is right after Monday and that means being expected to not be quite as tired as returning from the weekend. But it’s also so far from Friday. Not to mention all of my projects are due. Lately my teachers have been planning projects at exactly the same time with exactly the same magnitude of work.

Groaning, I rolled out of bed and stared into my body length mirror across the room. My flannel pajamas were wrinkled and faded. Red hair fluffed out and framed my face like a lion’s mane, almost as if the wind from that cloudless dream really did affect my body. Face flushed, mascara smeared, and greasy hair, the girl standing in front of me did not look ready to face this merciless Tuesday morning.

I fight the same battle every morning. Forcing myself to shower, wash my face, get packed, eat breakfast, make lunch, and sluggishly find my way to the door from where I walk to first period Spanish. I mean honestly. You’ve got to let a girl wake up before you make her speak another language. I have enough trouble talking to people in English at 7:30 AM. But regardless, here I am doing my best to keep up with the expectations of a high school freshman. When the bell rang, la profesora gives instructions to grab a book and take notes. I got up to take one from the shelf, but the rest of the class is still staring at her blankly. At least I’m not the only one who’s brain dead on Tuesdays. Spanish was as boring and uneventful as it always is, as was the rest of the day. Most people spaced out on the projects and classes were spent arguing with the teachers, trying to convince them it was their fault they didn’t finish their work on time. Only thoughts of my beautiful dream got me through it all. I would close my eyes, feeling the wind in my face, tears welling in my eyes from its intensity. If I’ve learned anything from high school, it’s that daydreaming will get me through anything.

When I was walking home after school, I saw a bright pink Easter egg on the sidewalk. Curious enough to pick up what others might say is “diseased,” or comment on how “you don’t know where that’s been,” I found it wasn’t empty. I tried prying it open but it was sealed shut. Perplexed, I pocketed the egg and walked home as fast as dignity would allow to find some way to open it. When I finally arrived, I clumsily scrambled for my house key and bolted inside and down to the basement where the tools are kept. I looked through the drawers and found nothing that could pry it open. Eventually I decided on a hammer and brought it down on the egg hard enough to break the plastic, but not too hard that I break its contents. It split neatly apart and I brushed away the bits and pieces to uncover a gorgeous ring. The diamonds formed a delicate flower that was situated on a lovely gold band. I stared in awe at what would be the perfect wedding ring until I spotted an engraving on the inside of the band. Jenny, you have my heart forever. I searched through the plastic shells once more and found a note, Will you marry me? At first I was puzzled. Who would put a wedding ring in an Easter egg? That quickly turned to a feeling of horror. Easter was last Sunday, Which means someone must have been looking for this for two days! I picked up the ring and note, scribbled a barely legible message for my parents, and ran back upstairs and out the door to get my bike.
With no idea how to find these people, I decided to start on the street to school. It took eight times going back and forth before I gave up and went elsewhere. About fifteen minutes afterward, a flyer flew across a deserted street landing not far from where I was. Wincing at my squeaking brakes, I leaned over and picked up the flyer. My eyes searched the page, desperate for any information that could lead to these unknown fiancées, “Couples’ Easter egg hunt this Sunday in the plaza @2 Pm.” This could be a perfect explanation! The plaza was about 10 minutes away on bike so I was sure not to waste any more time. I knew my parents would be scared out of their minds by now. Especially considering I never go bike riding and my handwriting is fairly decent when I’m not scribbling a two second note. My mom, being the worry wart that she is, probably thinks I was kidnapped and the man that took me made the note to buy him time. Well at least I am worrying them with a good reason. Maybe I’ll get out of trouble once they hear my story.
The time it took to get to the plaza went by faster than I expected. The decorations from Easter were still up and plastic eggs were littered outside shops. I looked around for something to point me in the right direction until I found a man in his mid-twenties looking through bushes. His face was handsome but red and scrunched up as though he were thinking hard to remember something. I jogged over casually, trying to hide my excitement.
“Looking for something?”
“Oooh, I hid my engagement ring in an Easter egg for the couples’ hunt. I had a plan for my girlfriend to find it but when we got here, it was gone. I thought it might’ve fallen out of my pocket during the hunt because I searched every inch of my house.” I pulled out the ring and note beaming.
“Is this what you were looking for?” Relief washed over his face. The look of worry and self hatred vanished. His eyes drifted over my shoulder and widened even more. He snatched the ring and note out of my hand rather rudely and whispered “Thanks” in my ear before darting over to the entrance of a nearby drug store.
“Jenny!” A woman with pretty features and several plastic bags exited the store. She was what one might think was a model with long golden hair and big pouty lips and what I might interpret as a typical dumb blonde. But somehow she seemed very familiar… Of course! She lived in a house I walk home by. The egg must’ve fallen out of the car when he picked her up. I strained my ears to listen but they were too far. Although I had a pretty good guess when he knelt down on one knee and she dropped her bags to hug him. I smiled to myself. Moments like these are much much better than flying.

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