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Writing Prompt 4: Dandelion Seed
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Literature Text
Dandelion seed
The old field was finally starting to come back to life. The entire plot of land was covered in bright yellow dandelions. This place holds terrible memories. Memories of war, or pain, and betrayal. But it was something that had to be done.
I can still smell the blood slicked ground, muddy from all the rain. The shouts of my men resound through my head and cannon fodder fills the air. And then, through all the gunfire and wounded men i see him. My mentor, my brother. I didn't want this to happen, i didn't want to cause him pain. But he had crossed a line, several even, and i needed him to let me go.
I needed to be free.
The world ceased to exist except for me and the Englishman in front of me, wounded and hurting, as his own brother -whom he had raised from a child- turned away from him. But i was thinking of my people, not my own emotions. It would have been selfish of me if i had.
That day was my independence day.
A day of glory and celebration.
A day of morning for others.
But i do not regret that day, in fact i look on it with pride. Not pride at hurting someone i cared about, but pride at becoming a free nation. Somewhere the homeless could belong and the persecuted could find rest. I am proud of my country.
Still i stand in this field as the memories wash over me and i see the new life springing of from the ground. I spot one dandelion older then the rest. It's top white with age, and i smile. At least something can thrive here, and this little old plant has many more seeds that will in turn bring new life. Even the things of the past can present life for the future.
i pluck the small plant from the earth and hold it between my thumb and index finger and examine it closely. It seems hundreds of seeds are holding tightly to the top.
"You have to let go if you want to thrive, you can't hang on here forever or you'll die as well." With that i blew on the fragile plant until every seed had been freed, off to dig new roots and start their lives.
I looked up to the blue sky and secretly thanked the man who had let me thrive.
Thank you England, thank you for letting me be free
The old field was finally starting to come back to life. The entire plot of land was covered in bright yellow dandelions. This place holds terrible memories. Memories of war, or pain, and betrayal. But it was something that had to be done.
I can still smell the blood slicked ground, muddy from all the rain. The shouts of my men resound through my head and cannon fodder fills the air. And then, through all the gunfire and wounded men i see him. My mentor, my brother. I didn't want this to happen, i didn't want to cause him pain. But he had crossed a line, several even, and i needed him to let me go.
I needed to be free.
The world ceased to exist except for me and the Englishman in front of me, wounded and hurting, as his own brother -whom he had raised from a child- turned away from him. But i was thinking of my people, not my own emotions. It would have been selfish of me if i had.
That day was my independence day.
A day of glory and celebration.
A day of morning for others.
But i do not regret that day, in fact i look on it with pride. Not pride at hurting someone i cared about, but pride at becoming a free nation. Somewhere the homeless could belong and the persecuted could find rest. I am proud of my country.
Still i stand in this field as the memories wash over me and i see the new life springing of from the ground. I spot one dandelion older then the rest. It's top white with age, and i smile. At least something can thrive here, and this little old plant has many more seeds that will in turn bring new life. Even the things of the past can present life for the future.
i pluck the small plant from the earth and hold it between my thumb and index finger and examine it closely. It seems hundreds of seeds are holding tightly to the top.
"You have to let go if you want to thrive, you can't hang on here forever or you'll die as well." With that i blew on the fragile plant until every seed had been freed, off to dig new roots and start their lives.
I looked up to the blue sky and secretly thanked the man who had let me thrive.
Thank you England, thank you for letting me be free
This is the fourth of 435 writing prompts on a list that i'm going to attempt to get through
Hetalia: Himaruya
Prompts: [link]
Hetalia: Himaruya
Prompts: [link]
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*Nods in admiration*