It's been a Long, Long Time

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I blasted '60s music through my headphones as I sat in the long grass, pencil and pad in hand. The graphite scratched at the paper, long streaks creating the outlines of the beautiful scenery in front of me. The view was ethereal. I found it hard to believe that something so incredible actually existed. I felt so small in comparison, as if my life was meaningless when I looked up at the slow-moving clouds and the giant mountains covered in a blanket of mossy, green trees. The sun shone down on me, bathing my skin in a delightfully warm glow, ensuring I never had to wear my discarded hoodie.

I had chosen to sit in a spot far away from everyone else, but not so far that my teacher couldn't see me, though she wouldn't care too much since we were juniors and were allowed to head back by ourselves once we were finished.

I could feel someone approaching me, and I instantly knew who it was. I let out a sigh, gently placing my sketchpad into my already full bag, before turning to face him. He pointed aggressively to his own ears, hinting at me to take off my headphones, so I did with an eye roll, letting him know that I wasn't happy with his demands.

"Hi Zach! Taken any nice photos of the dead volcanoes?" I asked sarcastically, a sweet smile plastered on my face, contrasting to the scowl on his. He stepped closer, not speaking until he was standing above me.

"I'm gonna fucking kill you," he said, gritting his teeth as he spoke. I blinked slowly, absorbing the severity of his extreme threat.

"Oh," I replied hesitantly, unsure how serious he was. I knew his parents were rich and that they could probably buy some pretty good lawyers, but I doubted he'd want to test their ability to keep him out of prison. "Why don't we take in the view instead? I have a KitKat we could split," I suggested, holding up the chocolate so he could see I was being half-serious. I didn't exactly know what I was hoping for, but it definitely wasn't Zach slapping the KitKat out of my hand and grabbing my wrist to get me to stand up.

"You made me look like a fool," he sneered, capturing the attention of everyone on the field, including my teacher, who looked at me with sympathy, aware that Zach's father could get her fired if she intervened. I struggled to twist out of his strong grip, the soft skin of my arm already starting to bruise.

"You don't need my help to do that," I retorted, enjoying the flare of anger in his eyes but less enjoying the tightening of his grip.

"Your little friend can't save you now." His other hand went to swing at my face, but I kicked his shins before he was able to do so. His grip on me loosened and I was able to break free.

I grabbed my bag and the KitKat off the floor before sprinting down the hilly meadow. As I ran, I couldn't resist shouting back at Zach, "Doesn't look like I need him."

Cheers of encouragement called after me as I dashed over colourful flowers and through long grass that whipped against my uncovered legs, instantly making me regret not wearing long trousers. I knew Zach wouldn't be far behind so I quickened my pace towards the forest that lay between me and the safety of my house.

Weaving between tall trees and vaulting over their knotted roots, I risked a glance back at the boy chasing me. He was quickly gaining ground, and I knew I couldn't stay ahead of him for long. An idea popped into my head, forcing me to change the direction I was heading. His loud huff of confusion confirmed I had made the right choice.

As the forest thickened, navigating through the maze of trees became more difficult, and my pace slowed. My breathing grew laboured, my lungs burning for air and my legs begging for relief, until finally, I burst into a garden. Zach's cursing rang out behind me when we both noticed a woman tending to her plants.

"Watch your back y/l/n," Zach whispered, turning to get away from the redhead who was walking towards us, a concerned look in her eyes. Fearing for the bully's life, I desperately cleared my head of any bad thoughts and quickly came up with an excuse.

"Yeah, see you next week for cross-country practice." I called back to Zach, nervously brushing off the interaction so Wanda wouldn't know what was actually happening. She reached me, looking at my disheveled state, and raised her eyebrows. I glanced down at myself, taking in my ripped clothes and scratch covered legs with a tired sigh.

"Who was that?" She asked wearily, guiding me over to a swinging bench so my aching body could have a rest.

"Oh, that was one of my friends. We're both trying out for the track team this year," I said while intentionally avoiding her gaze, aware that she would instantly recognise my lie if I did. The word 'friends' being associated with Zach made me feel sick, but I tried to keep my composure. She hummed, knowing that I wasn't being completely honest, but also that I wasn't going to open up about my unusual entrance.

I tried to steer the conversation away from my incredible feat of escaping the gingerbread man from Shrek and nodded towards her abandoned gardening equipment, which lay by a bed of plants, "What were you doing?"

I could tell she loved gardening by the instant change in her demeanour as she started to ramble on about what she was growing. I took the opportunity to scan her backyard, my eyes widening at its beauty; with the hues of different coloured flowers and tall, growing greens that I assumed were vegetables. It would have been impossible for any normal person to grow plants this quickly, but Wanda Maximoff had a little magic on her side.

I grabbed my sketchbook out of my bag and turned to a new page, deciding that the view in front of me was way better than any mountain, occasionally chiming in with another question or a nod of my head to show I was still listening. I paused only to offer the woman half of my KitKat, which she accepted gratefully, before excusing herself to resume her gardening. I continued to draw the scene, concluding that I should include Wanda as well, since the drawing would seem empty without her.

Time seemed to slow down. The soft chirping of birds and the rustle of leaves in the light breeze mingled with the scent of fresh flowers, lulling me into a tranquil state of concentration, my gaze only leaving the paper to look up at my reference. The sole indication of it being late was the setting sun, which I noticed once my artwork was complete.

Wanda came over to the swinging chair and looked over my shoulder, a soft gasp escaping her lips when she saw what I had been working on. "It's beautiful y/n," she said gently, her green eyes sparkling with sincerity.

"You can have it if you'd like." I stood up and handed her the drawing shyly, picking up my bag after she carefully took the paper from my hands. "Thank you for letting me stay here; your garden is incredible."

"You can come anytime," She smiled back at me, giving me a small wave as I left, my drawing held safely as though the wind could snatch it away.

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