Young Writers Society

I wave my arms frantically and call out, “Hello! Please! Stop! I’m stuck out here,” but no one stops. They drive past so quickly that I can hear the rushing of the air even before I feel it.

With a, “harumph,” I drop to the ground. It’s only when I’m lying flat on my back that I hear the wildflowers whisper, “You’re dead, that’s why they aren’t stopping ”

“Obviously I know I’m dead,” I reply, “if I was alive they would stop and help me. But It’s been three days and I’m still here, so I figured I should probably try something.”

“Well good luck with that. Even if you weren’t dead they still wouldn’t be able to see you. We are easily three hundred yards from the side of the road”

“Well then maybe I should move closer to the road?”

“Why? Just stay here where I can watch you. The grass is soft here and the air is warm. You haven’t been hungry or thirsty since you woke have you?”

“No”

“Then why leave?”

“Because that what you are supposed to do” I said, “ Im not a wildflower, or a tree, or a soft patch of grass. I’m a person, and people are meant to DO things and go places. People are meant to be with people, not flowers.”

“ how do you know what people do, you’re just a girl!”

“Am not, and what do you know. Flowers live only for a season. So you are far younger than I.”

“Flowers may fade child, but I’ve been here for far longer than I can explain. I know exactly what people do.” The flowers pause for a moment, and all I can hear is the far off rushing of the cars, “ People leave, and people die, and people do far more harm than they could ever hope to undo, even if they had the chance.”

Tears welled in my eyes, “Do you know how I got here; Do you know where I came from?”

“Yes, I do”

“How?”

“I cannot bear to answer you that, and you cannot bear to hear it, but all people do is hurt, and leave.” The Wildflowers drew closer to me, and I could feel the silk of their petals move with the rush of every passing car. “Stay here, I’ll keep you safe and warm where no one can hurt you.” They said.

But once again, all I can hear was the rushing of the cars on the road, “Can I try one more time,please.”

“I don’t understand, they will not see you.” The Wildflowers said.

“Then I should move closer”

“ If you leave, I cannot protect you. Here in this meadow I can keep you, safe. But past that, I am powerless” they warned, “ and the living can’t help the dead anyways, they won’t help you. People only hurt ”

“ If the living won’t help me, I promise to return. It not like people can hurt me any more than I am now.”

As I stand the wildflowers tried to whisper in my ear one more, but the rushing of the road is too loud for me to hear.

I walk toward the road, waving my arms and shouting “Hello! Please! Stop!”, but no one notices. Five, ten, a hundred cars pass me by, and soon night begins to fall.

My teeth chatter and the temperature start to drop, and soon the only light I can see is the moon.

I callout to the Wildflowers, “ I’m coming back to you. I remembered my promise!”

But It’s quite dark, and I’m unsure of what direction the Flowers are “I will find you eventually!”

I walk forward, sure that I’m headed home to the wildflowers and the green meadow, and in a split second the rushing of the wind fills my ears before I can even feel it on my skin. Two beams of light come barreling through the darkness, and I turn to greet them. I wave my arms, “Hello! Stop!” But it’s far too late. The living can’t help the dead, and they can’t see them either.

In the seconds after impact, I’m afloat, I rise up and roll through the air, and fall back to the the earth. I land flat on my back and I whisper, “wildflowers?”