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Forget-Me-Not--The story of a budding life

Short story By: SuperLoveMonkey12
Romance



The story of the budding of a flower. They were only seven when they met. Don fell in love with her and she was in love with the wilderness. Slowly their relationship grew, only to be shattered.
This is the story of how the Forget-me-not flowers came to be and the two people they brought together.


Submitted:Jan 16, 2011    Reads: 109    Comments: 4    Likes: 0   


Budding Life
My heart opened up like a flower for the one person I loved. He landed on that flower as a bee gathering nectar from me. Then I closed my flower and locked the bee tightly inside of me.
I'd known him since we were seven. Seven and bustling free through the fields wild as can be. Don could go to school, but I could not. My school was the outdoors. He knew ABC and I knew season's of the trees.
I remember Don teaching me everything he learned in school and I would teach him all about the wild side of life. He was my escape from real life; my dad and all the horrid things he did.
One day my dad found out about my meetings with Don and he hit me. I ran far away into the woods hearing the branches break as he tried to follow me. I was fast, but not fast enough.
He caught up to me. I screamed and I struggled as hard and loud as I could. No one heard. No one was around to hear. There was no one for miles. He left me there. Beat up and bruised. Violated and in pain.
I remember that night because the stars appeared to line up in the night sky. And I remember thinking that I was dying and those stars were going to be the last beautiful part of this world I was going to see before I shut my eyes.
And that would have been fine with me. For some reason, however, it just wasn't meant to be. I closed my eyes and when I opened them again, the summer air was fresh around me and the sun beat down hard on my cheeks.
It was not death after all. It was much worse. I tried to move and the most blistering pain imaginable wreaked havoc upon my body. The pain wanted to make me scream, but I couldn't even do that for my throat was so soar from screaming last night.
All of the sudden, the beautiful morning did not seem so beautiful to me anymore and I wanted to be back with those stars. The ones who understood my pain and could take it all away. Hot tears tore down my face leaving blistering tracks of heat that seared my skin.
The hours went by slowly, yet no one came and no one saw the little girl lying in the trees; no one came to look for her and ask her if she was alright. The grass tickled my skin, as if to brush off its freedom and give it away to me.
Don would be in school right now. The sun was barely above the treetops. It was one of the many things I'd learned from my school: the forest. I wondered if Don was thinking about me. Would he become worried when I don't show my face in our swaying field? Or would he simply believe that I had become bored with our talks and found a new friend?
No. He must know that something is wrong. He must…
Don arrived at the field early expecting to see her there. She was always there before him; early or not. But today was different. The tall grasses in the field were unswaying. No one had played in them today. At first Don thought that maybe she was out searching a new part of the forest, but time drew on and she still didn't show.
The more time that passed, the more anxious Don became. One thought, however, planted a seed in his mind. That seed began to grow. Don began to think that she had abandoned him because she was more interested in nature than what he learned in school. She had shown signs of this on more than one occasion.
Soon Don couldn't take it anymore. He picked up a large rock and threw it into the field. It crashed down on the tall grass, pinning it to the dirt. "I hate you!" he yelled to the wind. "You've stolen her away from me!"
Picking up his schoolbag, Don forced himself to walk home as he kicked the dirt. He couldn't know. No one would know that she was deep in the forest wishing for a help in her pain. He wanted nothing more to do with the forest. Don loved her and he believed that the forest did also. And because she loved the forest back, the forest had won the jealous battle.
The daytime turned to night as the sun went down. Tears welled up in the little girl's eyes. "Why?" she thought. Why doesn't the forest send someone to save me. Why can no one hear my screams.
Dying was sad. But dying alone was scary and I wanted more than anything to see Don's face one more time. I didn't believe I could make it through another night. The stars spoke to me that night. They told me that I needed to hold on a little while longer.
If I did, then everything would be fine and I would get to see Don again. This new hope flooded my body, numbing the pain in the slightest. I slept soundly and awoke to the sweet song of the morning birds.
Don was upset. He decided he needed to go see her and try to convince her to stay friends with him. Skipping school he arrived at my house. Smoke was coming out of the chimney. The only sound came from the animals. No little girl's singing along with the birds or humming with the swish of the trees like he had expected.
Closing the space between him and the screen door, Don peeked inside. My father sat at the table reading the newspaper and eating his breakfast. Don cleared his throat and knocked. My dad looked up. "What do you want?" he asked rudely.
Don just wanted to know where he could find her. "I don't know where the hell she is!" Came the reply from my dad. Don turned from the house feeling in his heart that something was terribly wrong. She always played close to her house and her dad always knew where she was, or at least thought he did.
The sickening feeling stayed in his stomach all the way home. He knew exactly what he had to do. If he was wrong, then he would deal with whatever the consequences were. Don told his parents that she was missing. They had all sorts of questions.
The only answer Don could get to leave his lips was, "Her dad did something with her." It was what he felt in his heart and what he wanted to believe. The small town came together and searched all around my dad's house for me. I was nowhere in sight.
They called out to me. I could hear them, but my voice was scratchy and I couldn't call back. I tried, but nothing but a moan came out. "Don.." I whispered.
I tried to move, but the voices were moving farther away. "No…help." I called shakily. Someone had to hear me. Don turned at the noise. He didn't feel there was time to call out to anyone else so he went to inspect the sound himself. And he found me. "No." He tried to tell me everything was going to be okay.
"Don." I said. "I thought no one would find me. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." "No. It isn't your fault. I thought you forgot about me. I should have come looking for you sooner." He replied. The tears ran down my face.
Don tried to call for help, but everyone else was too far away. He looked back at me with tear filled eyes shaking his head. I could die now that Don was here and I knew he always would be. I smiled at him one last time then I closed my eyes embracing the stars prophecy.
"No! Don't leave! Come back…come back!! Please," he sobbed. "I love you." She was gone. Don rocked her in his arms crying. He never got to tell her. Don planned to marry her when they got older and they would live on a farm in the country with children running around; always curious.
When the rest of the town finally reached Don, they took her body and decided to bury her in the grassy field so it would carry on her memory. After everyone was long gone, Don still stayed. Standing; thinking. He noticed a flower in the spot where she had been laying.
It was a bright blue. One which no person had ever seen before. It was a reminder of her. He decided to call the flower "Forget-me-not" for he never wanted to forget her. Don walked over to the grassy field where the town was laying her into the ground. He knew she would be safe.
Months later, he was walking by that same field. I tried to talk to him. Don needed to know. "I love you." It came out as a whisper in the wind, but I know he heard it. He turned noticing a patch of the blue flowers growing along the fence. Forget-me-nots. He stopped, staring at them for the longest time. Then he said, "I'll never forget you…Ipomoea."




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