One More Time | Teen Ink

One More Time

January 1, 2011
By wannabeaphotogirl BRONZE, Forest, Virginia
wannabeaphotogirl BRONZE, Forest, Virginia
3 articles 14 photos 27 comments

When we were younger my older brother took me by the hand he led me through the small woods behind our house. Through the woods there was a small field with a single tree. He took me there and said it was our special place. Everyday in second grade I would run home to go to our special place. Everyday he would be waiting because the middle school bus always got home first. He would ask me about my day and we would play tag until it neared dark. Sometimes he would bring snacks and everyday for the next few years it was our special place. One day, when I got home from school, he was there. He was with a girl. I was hurt. That was our special place and he shared it with someone else. "This was ours!" I yelled right as he leaned in to kiss her. Both of themm looked at me. I ran as fast I could to get away. I never went back there.
A few years later I was in high school. My brother was in a car accident. I was devistated. My boyfriend and I were very close but I refused to take him to our special place. He took me out for coffee but I couldn't talk about it. I had never fully forgiven my brother and now he was gone. As we sat there, I just cried making a scene. My love did his best to shield me from the onlookers. He had never met my brother because I thought that love was what had driven us apart. As I wiped my eyes a girl walked by. It was a girl from the field a few years earlier. She reached over and handed me a note. "Your brother asked me to give this to you. He said it was important that it come from me and he said I would know the right time to give it to you. I know things are hard, trust me I'm hurting too, but I think you should have this." She walked away. My love held me as I opened the note. It read, "Sis please meet me one more time. If you never want to go back again I understand just meet me one more time. I wait everyday just to see if you'll come. I love you." I cried even hardly. Wordlessly I grabbed my love's hand and took him to the field. I told him everything and I introduced him to my brother because I could feel he was still there.
Seven years later I brought a small group of people back to the field. It was there I said "I do" and felt my brother there as the wind rustled my hair.



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