The Meadow | Teen Ink

The Meadow

January 17, 2012
By Neonlimabean GOLD, Wyoming, Michigan
Neonlimabean GOLD, Wyoming, Michigan
11 articles 1 photo 7 comments

There she goes again. Off to prance in her flowery world with the devil. Who knew so much evil could seep out of such a stick of a person? They dance in the daisies, unaware of the opposite end. Unaware of the abandoned side, left to rot and fall into extinction.
On my side, dark clouds, dreary days, dead tulips lying limp on the ground. A hard rain starts to fall, pounding on my head. Making it’s way inside to chill my very heart. What have I done wrong to deserve this punishment? In the distance, I can see their perfect paradise. They have warmth. Comfort. Friendship. Love. Everything I used to have with her, stripped away in a heartbeat. Too quick to be seen, too natural to be forgotten.
I’ve tried to cross over to their meadow. The one with sunshine and happiness. The one with my angel and her demon. The one I used to call home. I couldn’t taint the putrid beauty with a single step before being attacked once more by the words. The awful words. The words that force me to see the truth that is a lie. The words that escape the lips of the demon. Such horrible words.
She watches me. Those delicate blue eyes I’ve known for so long clinging to the past. Her heart begs me to join her in the meadow, in the cheerfulness. She guides me to her and ushers me into the heat. And it’s beautiful. The birds sing, the trees sway as if they are stuck inside a song. The sun is smiling down on us in that meadow. Swooping hills welcome me with open arms, an embrace impossible to match. Each and every flower at my feet has a happy story to tell, and I listen to every one without complaint. There is no suffering here. There is no sadness here. There is no hatred here.
The demon haunting my friend quickly appears and chases me away, determined to have her for itself. I try to force myself through the blockade, through the lies and truths shrouded in mystery, but instead I am forced to sit and watch the torture like I’m at the movie theater. Where the popcorn is bad, the pop is bad, and the movie is the worst I’ve ever seen. The demon has created this feature length film just for me. Only for me. For no one but me.
The days grow danker as the meadow progresses in time, leaving me in the dust. Dead grass is added to the long list of flaws along with another layer of sorrow. The weight of each day pressing down on my shoulders like an endless gravity. I attempt to cry out in agony, to call to my angel and lure her into my wasteland to save me. To protect me. I scream and struggle and beg, crying all the time. All I want is my friend back, but the demon isn’t in a very giving mood.
I can see the angel planning. She wants me to be in her meadow. With her. Without the demon. Countless plans are thrown into the trashcan. Forgotten, like me. None of them will ever work. The demon has placed an invisible force field around my one and only hope. My one and only wish. Freedom.
I turn away from the beauty. The happiness. The wonders of life. I turn my back to all of it. No more singing birds. No more dancing trees. No more torture. I turn against the sun, bright as ever. The talkative flowers, peppy as can be. The love, warmer than I’ve ever felt. With my head held high, I resist the demon within me. I refuse to let it get to me. As my image begins to fade into the background, as always, I feel happy. In fact, I feel overjoyed. All the sorrow, all the unhappiness, all the misery swept away. All the pain, all the suffering, all the torture gone with the wind.
So focused on the release, I don’t notice the figure standing beside me, stepping in time. Our eyes lock and we know. She’s given up her perfect demon, she’s chosen the disaster. She’s discarded the good evil and replaced it with the evil good. Me over the devil.
With our hands clasped at our sides, we share a hidden smile, a forgotten memory, and darkness conquers.

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This article has 4 comments.

on Feb. 3 2012 at 5:35 pm
Neonlimabean GOLD, Wyoming, Michigan
11 articles 1 photo 7 comments
It's not about suicide. It's about a person(the demon) not letting me be friends with my friens(the girl).

AuntSue said...
on Feb. 2 2012 at 8:38 pm
I really liked your story, but I have to this about suicide?

on Jan. 31 2012 at 3:41 pm
IndigoDreams BRONZE, Wyoming, Michigan
2 articles 2 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
"We're mimics, we're parrots, we're writers." --Anne Lamott

I appreciate the comparison of the other person (a bad friend, I'm assuming) being the demon, and the good friend being an angel. It provides a very sharp contrast between the two and it adds good emotion! I thought the details in this piece were wonderful! :)

JessieMo said...
on Jan. 31 2012 at 3:41 am
Wow!! Beautiful imagery, emotion, and voice. It was extremely deep. I was so caught up in it I cried a little. Wonderful work Serena!