W C E: The Willow Girl

Instructions

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷ Our love was slow and deliberate, taking its own pace, in those few sunlit months of June and July, before the rains came tumbling down like the heavens themselves were crying over what happened. Being ripped apart is no easy affair, and the experience broke us both, but we were mere children, and bounced back easily, finding new things to cling to. But every now and then, I remember our escapades every summer afternoon, you with your long, tumbling, sand-coloured hair which glimmered in the sunlight and freckles dancing merrily across your nose, me with my cropped, dark whisps and cobalt blue eyes that were the same colour as the creek. We would play by the willow tree, the branches shaking under our weight as we climbed and pretended to be spies, observing the small, golden fish that swam in the creek. I remember when my father made the swing, you insisted we install it on the strongest branch of the willow by the creek. I remember the tranquil afternoons we spent swinging over the icy-cold waters in our swimming gear, trying to jump into the creek, something I could never do. I remember everything, even when you went. I remember the day before, I whispered to you under the willow, "Maybe we can run away. Maybe we can go to India, like the stories say. Just pack your dolls, and a sweater, I hear it gets cold." You smiled at me sadly, a smile that didn't belong on a face like yours, sun kissed and freckled. "We can't, not now. My daddy says we have to go, and that this place is bad for me. I need to go to a better school in the city." I leaned against you. "I'm going to miss you, a lot. Our friendship is so strong, my mommy says that if we lived in the old times, we could have songs written about us and we could be in folklore. Those are old stories about fairies. What if we were fairies?" "That would be nice, Leida. I'm going to miss you too, a lot." You had smiled properly then, your dimple appearing on your cheek. "Let's swing over the creek," I offered, and you nodded, both of us getting up slowly. The scent of the wildflowers was in the air, the day before you went away, and the afternoon seemed to have lasted forever. We were swinging the time away, and in one round, we must have swung at least seven feet high above the creek. We both laughed delightedly, as the sky seemed to be so close, we could reach for the sun. "I dare you to jump!" you had called as you slipped off the wood just above the creek, but this time, I couldn't seem to be able to. We returned home, your clothes sopping and mine covered in leaves and torn all over. I don't remember your name, but you will live forever in my memory. I wonder what would have happened, if we were still friends. Would you have laughed and played with my children as I do today? Would we still be sisters, as we were then? I have told my children about you many times, and each time, they have asked me about what your real name was. I never told them, because I never knew. But to me, and to them, you are the Willow Girl, a fairy being. And I will never forget that day above the creek. ꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷ Please picture me in the trees, I hit my peak at seven feet In the swing over the creek, I was too scared to jump in...