From upon a poppy field...

One teenage girl. One teenage boy. They first set eyes on each other in 1914, July 28th, and begin to fall in love. But will an event, which changes history forever, tear them apart?

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20. 28th July ~ Edward

I sigh and shake my head frustrated. I am being forced to leave Rose, and knowing that my best friend was also putting his life on the line made me want to curl into a ball and cry until my heart was broken and stopped beating... But I promised Rose I would return to her, and I felt new strength coursing through my muscles. I had to fight. I turn to Tristan and grin awkwardly "Wouldn't want anyone else fighting beside me!" I pick up a stone and turn it casually in my hand, the smooth surface brushing beneath my fingers. I pull back and the stone arches in the air.

 

Next thing I know, a nearby window rains glittering glass over our heads. I hear an angry yell and caterwauling cat screams, emerging through the smashed window. "Oh shit!" I yell. It was the crazy cat lady, Mrs McDearingly. I turn to Tristan, who was gasping for breath and laughing his head off but It wasn't so funny when cats start flying at us, claws extended as Mrs McDearingly started running after us, her oak cane raised threateningly over her head. The lady seriously knew how to hit someone with that stick. 

 

I spin around and start to drag a hysterical Tristan behind me and shouted "Run!" as I ran as fast as I could, feeling the rows of houses breeze past me and the wind slamming into my face with such a force, I was pretty sure I swallowed a fly. Or a bird, more like. I felt a laugh building up in my chest, and I collapse on the ground by my house. Tristan and I lay there, trying to contain our laughter. My chest heaves and Tristan wheezes "Water...need water ." I stumble to my feet and pick him up, and together we walk over to the river.

 

We sit by the bank, drinking the water like we hadn't drank in ten weeks. I lay on my back, feeling like I had drunk too much water. I gaze up at the sky. It was a perfect shade of blue, like a clear lake in the spring. Clouds float lazily past my vision and I smile tired and yawn contentedly. I look beside me, and a beautiful blood red poppy is fluttering softly in the breeze. I pluck it from the grass, and spin it slowly in my hand, and I admired the perfectly formed crimson petals, the raw obsidian poppy seeds. It was such a pure type of beauty, like Rose. There was something about her that drove him crazy. He just didn't know what.     

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