Reach Too Far

A vast open field. Green grass, prickling her bare feet, and soft, yellow petals of millions of dandelions caressing her skin. It was quiet besides the gentle breathing of the copper thoroughbred nudging her shoulder. She stood, staring into the horizon, at the boy with the chocolate brown eyes. The boy with the short, soft hair. With the sweet smile. The boy she reached too far for.


1. Prologue

         Nothing has ever worked right for me in the begging. Well, it hasn't for anyone, not the first time you give something a go. But I'm a little different from anyone, I'm different in a sense that I thought I could rid myself from pain with death. Death. It's such a common word, like orange leaves in the fall that have been stepped on too much. I thought death was unreachable, surreal, but death and I became so close, I could tell you he likes the smell of peaches. 

         My family and I used to live in a small city, full of business men and lawyers. The tops of building were so high, they visited the clouds. Our house wasn't very big, but it definitely wasn't small. It was a pale brown color, with a darker color for a roof, and small windows speckling the walls of the house. Walking the small path to our doorstep, we had a worn down "Welcome!" rug, rubbed by too many shoes. You would have to knock on the cooper-colored door or ring the fading white button. 

*Ding Dong*

   You would step aside when you hear the soft padding of bare feet. A woman, not too old and not too young, opens the door and smiles warmly at you. Of course, she would be wearing some lightly loose pants, a silky blouse, and bright cardigan. In addition, she would have her favorite apron snugly tied around her waist. It had a horse on it. A copper thoroughbred. You would give it a quick glance and smile back at her, fallowing her welcoming gesture.Stepping inside, you would notice the family pictures hung ceremoniously around the house. All smiling and happy faces. She would ask you if you wanted anything, you would tell her "No thanks." You watch as she shuffle back into the kitchen, and decide to look around the room. The soft, homey furniture gave the home a happy mood. The bright windows were adorned with yellow curtains and small droplets of rain. The fireplace mantel held pictures of a person individually in a brown, wooden frame. Your eyes fallow the familiar face of the old man, smiling softly at the camera, to the cheerful yet cheeky smile of the old woman, to the grinning boy and girl, holding hands, looking into each other's eyes. A rush of familiarity would rush into you. You would jolt when the woman in the apron approaches you with a platterof freshly baked cookies, and two mugs of steaming mint tea. You help her take the mugs to the coffee table, and sit on the couch with her


      "Now, what was it you wanted to tell me, dear." The woman asked kindly. 

      "I heard about the girl, I'm so sorry." You let out in a rush. The woman frowned slightly before composing herself to the same welcoming, happy lady. 

      "Oh, dear" was all you hear her mumble after a silence drenched with exhaustion. 

      "I loved her, so so much, you know?" She said with a fleeting glance in your direction. 

      "Tell me about her please, about the girl." You would rush out without a second thought.

      "The girl? Well, she was all alone from the very beginning. She was a sweet little thing, two years old, and dressed in the cutest little dresses, all flowers and bright colors." She would smile from the memory. "She grew up with a caring Opa and Oma, who would care for her like a second set of parents! After she turned five, they passed away... Along with her beloved mother." 

You would jump with the same sudden rush of familiarity. You would suddenly remember why the house smelled so familiar.

 The scent of peaches, clinging to the tip of your nose. 








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