The Girl in the Field

Chapter 1

I stared out the dirty window of my grandma’s farmhouse, trying my best to ignore the pain in my chest. I was sitting on the old grey couch, knees tucked under my skirt and against my flowy black shirt as I squinted out into the field. It was crazy, the things people miss when they weren’t looking for them. No one else would ever know what magic that field held. The memories it carried, tucked safely away in the roots of the trees that surrounded it, the secrets that it kept hidden from the rest of the world, and the dreams. The dreams of kids who weren’t yet poisoned by the harshness of reality. 

When I was a little girl, that field had been nothing but dried-up corn stalks and dead flowers. But even then, it was the perfect escape. Me and my best friend would spend hours there, playing games, racing with the wind, and looking for the little animals that called that field home. 

Now, 10 years later, it was alive. The brightest yellows and purples sprung up from the ground, swaying gently in the summer breeze, careless and free. 

The way I used to be. 

At the very edge of the field, I could just spot the corner of my grandpa’s old ice fishing shack. I knew without having to see it that the paint was chipping. Every summer  my grandpa and I painted it, restoring it to its “original beauty," as my grandpa would say. And even though I tried not to, I wondered who would take care of it now that he was gone. 

I leaned against the window and watched the crows soar high over the field, scanning the ground in search of their dinner. It amazed me and horrified me to think about how quickly life could change. It was like I’d been lining up dominos perfectly for years, and then someone came and tapped one. In seconds, they'd all fallen, and I was left broken, my life destroyed by a single tap. 

That was what it was like to lose someone you love. Everywhere I went I saw him. Sitting on the couch, talking to Oliver, trying and failing to cook, laughing when he realized he messed something up, waiting for us with open arms, asking how we’ve been, smoking a cigar in his favorite rocking chair out on the porch, humming “Rocky Raccoon” like he said his dad would do when he was a kid. 

Part of me didn’t want to believe it, part of me knew it was true, and all of me longed for him to be sitting at the dining room table, his arm around my grandma as he told some ridiculous story. 

But it was a fantasy. A wish. 

I closed my eyes, willing myself not to cry. Everything had been perfect. I’d just been accepted into Princeton, found out that my friend was going too, and was looking forward to one last golden summer. 

But nothing gold can stay.

I closed my eyes and drew in a shaky breath, no longer able to think about him without crying. It was time to let go, but something in me twisted at the thought of forgetting him. 

I can’t let you go.

Was the last thing I thought before drifting into a peaceful silence, which part of me didn’t want to wake up from.

 It wasn’t the yelling downstairs that startled me out of my sleep, but rather the sharp rapping on my door that nearly made me fall off the couch.

“Jade!” I recognized my mother’s voice instantly and groaned as I braced myself for whatever bad news she had for me. “Get up, get your things, we’re leaving.” I heard her heels clicking as she made her way back downstairs. I rolled my eyes, laughing as I leaned my head back onto the arm of the couch. 

“Leaving,” I muttered to myself, making it obvious that my sleepiness has not worn off yet. “We’re not leaving, we just got here.” Then it struck me. I popped up,  eyes wide and very awake. I then dashed to the door, grabbed the golden doorknob, forcefully opened the old white door, slid around the corner, and practically fell down the stairs, slipping in my rainbow socks. I ran through the velvety purple curtains into my mom's bedroom, where I found her holding my whiny baby sister Cara in one arm and shoving her makeup supplies into her bag with the other. Not a minute after me, my older brother came crashing into the room. 

And me. 

I stumbled forward, regaining my balance by gripping the dresser in front of me. Oliver regained his balance by grabbing my shoulder, panting. I responded by shoving him and flipping him off. 

My mother, who hadn’t said a word or even stopped what she was doing, raised an eyebrow at me. 

“What do you two want?” I opened my mouth to logically explain why we couldn’t just leave, but Oliver beat me to it. 

“Alex just said we were leaving!” he exclaimed, running a hand through his curly blonde hair. He was the spitting image of my dad, with his pear-green eyes and a charming but crooked smile. Meanwhile, I looked more like my mother, with wavy auburn hair and dark brown eyes. My mom set down the mascara she was packing away to turn to us, the baby resting on one hip and her perfectly manicured hand on the other. 

The look on her face was stern but sorry.

“I’m sorry guys. But you know how these reunions are, especially because--” Her voice cracked momentarily, and I knew what she was trying to say. Especially because Grandpa wasn’t here to stop the fighting. She exhaled quickly, shaking her head.

“The point is, we’re leaving. And please don’t argue. The decision was hard enough as it was.” I shared a glance with Oliver, who had his lips in a tight line and his eyebrows furrowed, something he does when he’s thinking. I shook my head, telling him that there was no point in trying. He just looked away, still deep in thought. I sighed, pinched the bridge of my nose, and sat down at the foot of the bed, feeling my chest get tighter.

I couldn’t just leave. Not after everything I’d been through here. This was my home. I leaned against the hard mattress, my mind drifting to the field. I imagined myself standing in the middle, surrounded by the flowers. I imagined the feel of the grass underneath my bare feet, the deer running through the field, playing with one another.

I saw the crystal blue sky and heard the song the birds were singing as they circled overhead. The wind whipped my hair around as the sun beat down on my back, and the sweet smell of summer filled the air. I inhaled it, taking it all in. I closed my eyes, feeling calm and steady. When I opened them again, I was back in the house. I wasn’t ready to leave this place behind, to leave him behind. So I stood up, turning around to face my mother. 

“I’m staying.”