• "...It's so pretty. Look, its so pretty."

    A soft smile curved the little girls lips. Benevolent laughter encircled the dandelion- covered meadow. Cool rushing water cut through the white and green land creating a spring that seemed to glow in the sunlight, and vanish in the moonlight. The trickling water led to the bee's. They caressed the flowers as they fed it yellow pollen that dirtied their soft whiteness. The little girl trotted through this land, snatching up dandelions at will. Invariably she ran through the meadow echoing laughter, leaving behind a deep trail of naive happiness, and a shattered life.
    She had jet- black hair, pale, yellowish skin, and soft brown eyes that seemed to have seen things tha a mere child of six should not have seen. She was deathly thin, for the only food she had consumed since that dreadful night of war had been the dandelions of the meadow, and the occasional butterfly. Yet as her frail body entrapped in a tattered yellow dress sprang through the field, her eyes shown nothing but content, and a past that she wasn't willing to accept.
    In the middle of the meadow was a wooden shack. It was bullet ridden, and an oak plank that was used as a door had been kicked in. The child ran in without a moment's hesitation. It was familiar to her; the shredded rug, the skylight, a torn teddy bear that was missing a button eye. All this was familiar to her. This was her home.

    " Mommy? Daddy? Mommy are you home?"

    A grin spread across her lips, but her eyes weren't smiling. They were filled with dread. She knew her mother wasn't there, and that she would never be back again. She wandered around the shack for awhile, oblivious to the maroon blood stains caked on the walls. She kept strolling until she felt a sharp pain under her foot.

    "Ow!"

    She skidded back, clasping her injured foot. Soil from the meadow was caked on her sole, and with the newfound slit to her flesh, blood would reside there too. She wiped off the dark red liquid with her dress and leaned forward to see what had caused such an injury. The cause was a piece of glass; no... a picture frame. The little girl kneeled down to get a closer look. There were only two people in the photo: a young woman and a little girl. They held a strong resemblance to each other. Tears pooled into her eyes, but wouldn't give her the relief of falling.

    "Mommy..."

    After moments of dejection, she felt a great languor. Her heart was so heavy she couldn't sustain it. Hot tears finally swelled her cheeks, but she wouldn't allow them to stay. She hastily wiped them away, and looked up at the skylight. It was nightime, and the moonlight slivered into the windowless shack. With a sigh she trudged out of her former home for even though it held so many warm menories, it filled her with feelings of pain and fear. She was back in the meadow now, surrounded by hundreds of dandelions swaying in the wind. The moonlight created a white blanket around her.
    She was about to bask in its beauty when the pain came. Her tiny hands clasped her stomach. It was only hunger pains, but it felt like she was being torn from the inside. Energy was draining from her already frail body. Feeling lazy, she stumbled over to a recessed log. Growing on the side was a single dandelion. She plucked it, crawled into the log, and closed her eyes to rest. Beneath those closed eyes darkness reigned.
    She saw her mother. She saw the men at the door. She heard the bullets erupt through their wooden shack. She felt her mother's clammy hands as she carried her into the meadow. She tasted the warm, red liquid as a bullet penertrated her mother's back. She remembered the words her mother had carved on the very log she was laying in:Amarante, the flower that never fades. The little girl's heart slowed and her pulse became lazy. Her breathing became inert. She lasped into the land where she and her mother would meet again. Her grip loosened on the dandelion, and the moonlit breeze blew it away. Amarante's spirit did not fret, for a dandelion was a flower that never completele faded...