The girl in the field is always waiting for me when I go to school. She stands at the corner of her field and looks at me, when I ask her what she is doing; she says she is waiting for me.
She never moves from that place, well, not that I’ve seen and she never says anything to me, just looks at me as if expecting me to do something. Once I asked her what her name was but she just smiled and shook her head.
The girl in the field has flowing golden hair and a tall, skinny body. Her eyes are pools of sorrow that are deeper and darker than any other eyes known to man. I’ve always wondered what secrets those eyes hold, what darkness have they seen? But no matter how long I stand to watch her, she does not tell me her secrets, I want to know them, more than anything in the world, but she just stands there looking at me, mumbling under her breath. One day, I’ll have enough courage to lean forward and listen to her mutterings, but just for now, I’ll just stand and watch, for I’m too afraid that those mutterings are the answers to my questions, and to have my questions answered is too much to contemplate at this moment.
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