Spring

 Kila ran as fast as she could, out of the kitchen, slamming the kitchen door shut behind her and throwing herself onto the huge flower bed her mother had just spent hours picking weeds out of and grooming the vast amount of colorful plants.

            She rolled around in the dirt, feeling the cool, grit coat her skin. After caking  herself in the scent of clean, dirt filled air, and surely realizing she would get the biggest scolding of the century, she propped her small arms up under her head and stared up into the deep blue, wispy cloud filled sky.

            She wondered what it would be like to spread her arms and fly. Diving in and out of the clouds, forming clouds of her own. Sometimes she imagined jumping high enough to where she would never come back down to the ground, and she would float endlessly into the sky. Kila also imagined seeing her dog there, in the sky with her. The one that was hit by the train. She imagined his floppy, brown spotted ears, his big paws, and his large white coat. Her fingers would trail over the fur on his back and he would look up at her with such love. She missed Prince Thorn. He was a good puppy.

            Kila’s eyes traveled back to the flower bed, for one single rose had found it’s way over to her, and was hovering above her head. Tempting her.

            She smiled. She knew what the rose wanted her to do. With her tiny fingers, she reached up at the base of the rose and plucked the head off, gently as to not cause it so much pain. Then one by one, she pulled the petals off, lifting them into the air where they hovered where she told them to.

            When she was done plucking the final one off, all of the petals floated around her head in a circle, and she toyed around with the image of making them act like a tornado, and pillaging the garden. She sat up, and the petals floated away from her so them and her head wouldn’t collide. They were smart petals, she smiled.

            But sadly, as she looked around, she realized there was no need to create a rose tornado. She had already destroyed the garden she was sitting in.

            Footsteps from the kitchen echoed down to her, and quickly, she imagined the petals hitting the garden, and in like so , they did. They too were scared of the big, and tall man if he came outside and saw them floating freely in the air with no strings attached. Big people just didn’t understand their world, like she did. Mud crawling out of the garden, her fingers touched the small blades of grass and she rolled over on her back to dust herself off.       

            Standing up quickly, she looked down at the destroyed garden and wished all the flowers back to life, and back in the places her mother had put them.

            Slowly, but quicker with time, the broken petals mended themselves back together, leaning forward into the upright and correct positions. She promised them that she would never do such again. She would lay in the grass next time, and focus more on the trees around her. The  more spring came to life with the blossoming of petals, the more she realized that the trees keen eyes had landed on her. It was the year for growing after all. She was going to do great things this year.