Wishing in the Woods
Author's note: My grandmother's quote, "If we were all the same, life would be boring." truly inspired me.
Meeting A FriendIn the dense forest, everything seems whole again, more peaceful. As I look around, I see drops of condensation forming on the foliage. The glorious scent of pine engulfs me as I descend further into the woods. The clouds look especially grey today, as if they are also feeling depressed. I enter my special meadow where I sit silently and ponder my life. The luscious grass glistens with dew from the humid air. Finally, my eyes wander to the dead center of the meadow.
The wishing well had moss growing from all possible facets. I walk to the hundred year old well clutching my shiny copper penny. “I wish…I wish I had someone who accepted me for me,” I pleaded. I stand there listening to my echo until I hear a sudden clamor erupt from behind me.
CRRRRRAAAAAAAACCCCK! I swiftly twirl around to find a young girl peering at me inquiringly from behind a tree. How long she has been watching, I wonder. Before I actually have time to think of an answer, she bursts into conversation.
“Hello! My name is Janet. I saw you here and decided to come and see who you are. Sorry if I frightened you. I did not mean to break a stick.” She seems polite by the way she introduces herself and apologizes.
This is certainly a queer occurrence of events. “Uh…it is okay. My name is Ella, Ella Safire. I am sixteen years old. What about you?” She looks to be about my age, but I am genuinely curious to find out.
“My full name is Janet Snowbound, and I am sixteen as well. Actually, I believe we go to the same school!” Now that she mentions it, her name does seem faintly familiar. Janet just moved here. Or at least, I think she did. We went on in this manner for at least an hour and a half! Janet explains to me that she moved to Auburn Hills, Michigan because her mom is a naturalist. That is how she is so familiar with the forest. Where she came from, Wyoming, there are an abundance of forests she tells me. She had to come to the woods to see the wildlife for herself. She flips her honey golden hair like a lion would his mane. When she heard me in the meadow, she chose to investigate. Finally, it is six o’clock, and I have to head home. Before I go, I get her phone number for future reference. I say goodbye to Janet and walk home.
Dinner is exceptionally loud at my house because my thirteen-year-old sister, Violet, had cheerleading tryouts earlier that day. Cheerleading is all I ever hear about from her! The home-made pizza smells wonderful with the melted cheese and creamy tomato sauce. My mom is unsurpassed at making pizza. Violet is a silky brunette with midnight blue eyes that queerly turn purple when she gets excited! She is certainly unique, but in a “cool” way. Unlike me! I truly feel our parents favor her over me by far.
No one cared enough to ask me what I did in the woods. They would much rather hear about how many flips flawless Violet aced at tryouts. She is like a zany acrobat who escaped from the circus, here to torture me. I blankly stare at my fanatical sister. How are we related? No idea.
When dinner finally ends, and we begin to disperse, I go to get ready for bed. I am over taken by the nastiest disease imaginable, jealously. Why does Violet have to be so perfect? Sometimes I wish we could switch some if our characteristics so that we could even out our personalities. Maybe then my parents would appreciate both of us equally. I think I will survive as long as something is done soon.