In the spring of my third year of middle school, I went flower viewing with my boyfriend to the neighboring tow's lake.
~~~
"Of course the swans aren't here anymore. They've already migrated out of there."
"I wanted to see them. To bad..." Andrew sighed.
"Look, look!" Hillary picked up something, "Could this be a swan feather?" It was white and fluffy. "Did you know, swans that are joined together do not separate? If one is unable to return the other one will remain alone."
"Is that so..." He locked back out to the pond, "If it were you, I'd feel like flying to you immediately," of course he didn't look her in the eye when he said this.
"That's a given, huh?"
"It's not 'that's a given, huh'!!" he whined.
"Flying... with a stock full of bait, I'll make sure to return to your side," she smiled at him, tapping his head with the white feather.
He blushed, pulling her into his arms, "When winter comes, let's come here together again."
"... yeah, it's a promise."
~~~
But... when winter came, she wasn't here anymore.
Hillary Simmons died at fifteen years old, and so, I couldn't fulfill that promise.
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