When the Wildflowers Die

Wildflowers swayed in the cool summer breeze. The same breeze that rustled through the curls on Eli’s head. The dark swirls almost looked golden in the melting sunlight. His deep brown eyes turned to pools of honey staring back at me. Perfect pink lips turned up at the end that lead to his dimples. My favorite smile.

The hum of crickets fills my ears while we are swallowed by the deep burn of the sun. As we lay in the grassy field, my mind wanders, leaving the deep song of the night creatures behind me. Somehow time slips when I’m with him, the sun fades and the moon glows over his suntanned skin. Why do the best times have to go by so quickly? Time is something my sleep deprived, and summer fried brain cannot comprehend at the moment. I shouldn’t be thinking about the time we’ve lost when we still have time left.

His hand slipped into my hair and around the back of my neck. Our eyes locking onto each other with the moonlight beaming down on our intertwined bodies. For some odd reason, this random field has been our summer spot. Stumbling here after drunken nights or coming here to have a drunken night. We can do whatever we want when we’re alone here, no one has ever found us and no one will.

I stare at his soft face all the way from his dark brown hair down to his sculpted eyebrows which were in much better shape than mine. Down to his nose that almost came to a point but didn’t quite make it. Then down to trace his slightly parted lips that speak my name. My hands fall to the side of his face feeling his unshaved stubble under my palms. His golden eyes stare into mine before he finally closes the small space between our faces. There is a sense of urgency, but also a feeling telling us to be slow and savor every kiss. I do not think that’s going to happen.

I woke up to the blinding sun beating down on my already sunburned skin. Well, this is definitely going to hurt later. I picked his shirt up off of the dead grass and slung it over my red skin. I peeked over checking to see if I was the only one awake. His messy brown hair tangled.in the wind and the sunrise shined upon his naked abdomen.  I pulled the blanket up to his chin just in case the morning breeze was too cold.

I wanted to be selfish and wake him from his slumber just to have a reason to look at him. I turned on my side to get a good look at the sleeping boy next to me. I put my hand on the warm skin of his chest and traced his muscles with the gentle touch of my fingertips. He began to stir and his long eyelashes fluttered open to reveal his sleepy brown eyes. He took a deep breath in and rolled onto his side. Our green and brown orbs staring back into each other. His large hand grabbing the strand of hair closest to him. After twirling my hair in his hand for a few minutes, he finally spoke. His voice was raspy but still soft. The morning grog that filled my head disappeared when I heard his voice.

“Good morning Ronnie,” His words elongated while he stretched. There was a small crunch of grass as he rolled onto his back. I watched his eyes squint at the blinding shine of morning sun.

“Morning Eli,” I said, turning towards him with a smile.

Eli looked at me and did not say anything. The look on his face seemed to read, tired but excited. I wanted to know so badly what he was thinking and what thought had brought that dopey smile to his face. He let out a small laugh, and for a second I thought that he had heard what I was thinking about him.

What a boring brain I would have for someone to read. The same constant thoughts all the time. Imagine having that power to read people’s minds and you come read mine. Who wouldn’t think that a seventeen-year-olds brain would be interesting, but all that is in there is this stupid boy and his stupid smile and his stupid hair and his stupid face and occasionally my dog.

My eyes peer down to the crunchy grass and colorful flowers under the blanket we call a bed. I pick up one of the bright yellow wildflowers and begin to pick the petals off one by one. The bright color slowly drifted to the ground every time I plucked it off of its pretty green stem. I continued to watch them fall gracefully until a large hand pulled the stem out of my grip. I shot a look at him trying to hint that I wanted my flower back, instead, he ignored my annoyed look. He pushed my hair behind my ear and carefully placed the yellow wildflower in my hair. He let his hand slip and he rest it on my cheek. I just looked at him.

It is so hard to think or focus on anything while looking at him. Everything about him has me distracted at all times. It's like he takes up every bit of space left in my head.  Every thought I have is about him: a memory, a worry, a dream. Whatever “lovebug” I’m infested with needs to be exterminated immediately. I don’t not want to be in love, it’s just frustrating that every second of the day my mind is racing about him.

This one question keeps running through my mind and there has to be a reason for it. Is he too mature for me? Am I too young for him and he’s going to eventually find someone his age who is on the same maturity level as him? Will he ever bring someone else to our field? Will it become their field? Am I just some dumb kid he hung out with one summer? All of my worrying is interrupted by a hand touching my waist.

“Nice shirt,” He spoke into my neck as he pulled me close to him. He snuggled his face into the crook of my neck and tickled my waist which led to a fit of giggles from the both of us. We rolled around poking each other and erupting in laughter for way too long.

I really hope I’m not just some dumb kid he forgets when the wildflowers die.

After spending the rest of the day lazily in the field, I finally decided to go home. If you could call it that. Absent mother, schizophrenic father, dead older brother. No wonder I run away to that field to be with Eli.

I slowly walk through the deeply wooded forest behind my trailer, 2 miles away from my field. I always call Eli on my way home just in case a murderer pops out from behind a tree, but tonight I didn’t. I thought he might be worried about me getting home by myself but I could just shoot him a text when I got there.

As soon as I pulled open the rusted door to the small trailer I call home, my father was standing there blocking me from getting inside. He looked drunk and angry which was never a good mix for anybody but especially my mentally insane father. Without looking him in the eye I tried to squeeze past him and rush to my room but I was stopped again. This time by a lamp crashing into my back.

I felt the blood oozing down my favorite orange shirt. Eli’s shirt. I tried to get up as quickly as my body would let me but I knew that he would stop me again. I called out for Eli, knowing that it was hopeless and that he would never hear me. I cried out his name just wishing that he could get here before my inevitable end.

I thought I heard the door of the trailer creak open, but it was just my imagination. I peered around to make sure my father wasn’t in the room, I sprung to my feet reaching for the door handle when I felt something hit the back of my head and everything went black.

My mind was clouded and it was hard to open my eyes but when I did I was met with a bright fluorescent light. I was looking at a ceiling, and definitely not the one of my trailer. A familiar smell filled the room and I suddenly knew where I was. The hospital. I grabbed the side of my bed and pulled myself up into a sitting position. There was no one here, no visitors, no Eli, no one. I pressed the help button next to my hand and waited for a nurse to come. Where was Eli? Was he not worried about me? Has he already come to visit? Did he go to my house and my dad did the same thing to him?

My thoughts were interrupted by a petite lady in scrubs asking me how I felt and telling me that I had been out for four days.

“Has anyone named Eli visited me?” I asked, not sure if I wanted to know the answer.

“No ma’am I’m sorry no one has come to visit you yet.” She looked down at her clipboard as she spoke. “We have also discovered that you are in the early stages of schizophrenia, which might have caused some hallucinations like creating new friends or talking to people in your head that don’t exist.”

No field, no wildflowers, no Eli.