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The Bluebell Field
The Bluebell Field
Behind the mossy gate, that lay just past the village
Ivy now concealing the once gleaming metal latch
He crawls under the rotten planks, earth becoming present on his clothes
Yet he fails to take notice, as the Bluebells are in sight
Quick feet take off running towards the azure bulbs, trying to make up for lost time
A sense of guilt fortifies in his chest, internally pleading that she would be forgiving
Fingers clenched around a sprig of primrose, his attempt at an apology
A glimpse of her castleton skirt flashes in the corner of his eye
She had been waiting for little less than two hours
Fidgeting with the fresh apron to keep her hands from idle
A quick glance over her shoulder induces another wave of disappointment
For he should’ve arrived well before now
The floral scenery that had routinely brought comfort now failed to cease woes
Executing a decision influenced by despondence and irritation, she turns to leave
Just as she had began the trek home, a distant noise draws her attention
The creaking of wood sends a grin tugging at her lips
Although he had forgotten the secret entrance they had long ago discovered
A breath of relief escaped
She hadn’t been abandoned
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I originally wrote the first draft of this piece months ago but ended up scrapping it before completion. Upon being informed of Teen Ink applications by my creative writing club director, I decided to give this piece another try. After some revisions and edits, I made something that I am very proud of!