October 19, 2017
By jupiterjam BRONZE, Petoskey, Michigan
jupiterjam BRONZE, Petoskey, Michigan
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

I burst through the thick green barrier, feeling the comfortable cold breeze on my skin. My breath became wary, coming out in short exhales. My legs began to ache, the adrenaline was wearing off. The running came to an abrupt stop. I glanced around, I was under a large oak surrounded by nature’s beauty. I looked up through the canopy of leaves and as my eyes almost met the baby blue sky, I saw her. She was perched above a branch, near the top of the oak. Though I didn’t have the most keen vision, I saw the girl crystal clear; she saw me too for she started on her way down. I stood and watched as her black untied high-top converse made their way down branch by branch, very smooth as if they’ve memorized every step. Her hair was seafoam green, light with a few small branches pinned in. She had glasses, big and round straight out of a silent film. Her glasses protected the deep brown marbles that held her vision and the most interesting secrets. Her mouth was small, surrounded by smile lines. She was wearing black jeans and a regular old t-shirt, nothing ordinary but what made me look twice was her skin. It was covered in art, little doodles, scenes of space, oceanic creatures, and beautiful mountains with mesmerizing sunsets. It was peculiar, different.
Suddenly she jumped down in front of me. Her eyes met mine and she smiled, very slightly but it was still prominent. I felt her take my hand in hers as I studied her posture. She was shorter than me, with a smaller frame and her legs were apart at a stance almost like she was ready to run at any moment and her shoulders were tight like she was on edge. Her hands were shaky and cold. She let go of my hand and her eyes met mine again. I looked up at the oak and when my eyes travelled back to the girl she was gone. My hand tingled. I lifted it and there it was, the tall oak drawn in black ink carefully detailed on my skin. There was a word written in the trunk of the drawing, “Ari.” I looked around me, but it was just me and the oak.

The author's comments:

My first date was with a girl named Ari. She took me to a tree a few yards behind her house. It was towering over us. I was a bit intimidated. We climbed together. It seemed as if we were ust below the clouds. It was that tree were we wrote our intitials. Forever carved into life is our love.

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