Categories > Original > Drama > New Leaves of a Dead Tree
Thoughts of a Desperate Child
0 reviewsShe's sad, she has done nothing - nothing at all to better herself. Why fight the present?
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Thoughts of a Desperate Child
The trees were so tall, that she'd swear if she climbed to the top, she'd be able to reach heaven. The grass between her toes was softer than fur. Everything around seemed like she was looking at a painting. She could look in any direction, take a photo and think, 'that's beautiful enough for a postcard'. But the part of Bluend that persuaded her come back every time...was the lake. The lake was 'the blue end'. After work, she always sat in Bluend Wood. It was her wood, and nobody else's. She had a connection with the place that was impossible to describe, in the simplest terms...home, a shoulder to lean on. Every nook and cranny was associated with a part of her memory; the reddish leaves, the tall trees and even the lake. Everyday, she sat on the same bench, and looked at the same edge of the lake, thinking about the same things over and over again. Some days, she ended in tears from the sickness of being stuck in this life she despised. And others, she walked home emotionless.
Walking along the path, the cold hugged her body and the whistling of the wind, whispered into her ear. It soothed, "you're safe here", just like it always did. Looking up at the night sky, the stars twinkled upon her and the moon beamed a "welcome". She smiled back, while proceeding along the path toward her bench. All of a sudden, she jumped at the sound of the flapping of a bird's wings. The foolishness of her being startled caused her to chuckle, but ceased when she noticed the feel of dirt and strands of grass between her toes and thought, 'my path never changes'.
Sitting on her bench, she took a glance at her surroundings. And breathed a sigh. A sigh is all she could muster when thinking about all the events and experiences that had made her into the person that sat on this bench. Flashbacks and old faces she used to see on a regular basis, now were gone. Disintegrated into thin air and all it took was a stupid choice. A decision. But what a difference it all would make in the long run...who knew? Bad decisions had been made all her life. Even when she tried to think of good times, the bad ones followed them instantly. These thoughts alone caused a sting in her nose and a tear to materialize and cascade down her face.
The trees were so tall, that she'd swear if she climbed to the top, she'd be able to reach heaven. The grass between her toes was softer than fur. Everything around seemed like she was looking at a painting. She could look in any direction, take a photo and think, 'that's beautiful enough for a postcard'. But the part of Bluend that persuaded her come back every time...was the lake. The lake was 'the blue end'. After work, she always sat in Bluend Wood. It was her wood, and nobody else's. She had a connection with the place that was impossible to describe, in the simplest terms...home, a shoulder to lean on. Every nook and cranny was associated with a part of her memory; the reddish leaves, the tall trees and even the lake. Everyday, she sat on the same bench, and looked at the same edge of the lake, thinking about the same things over and over again. Some days, she ended in tears from the sickness of being stuck in this life she despised. And others, she walked home emotionless.
Walking along the path, the cold hugged her body and the whistling of the wind, whispered into her ear. It soothed, "you're safe here", just like it always did. Looking up at the night sky, the stars twinkled upon her and the moon beamed a "welcome". She smiled back, while proceeding along the path toward her bench. All of a sudden, she jumped at the sound of the flapping of a bird's wings. The foolishness of her being startled caused her to chuckle, but ceased when she noticed the feel of dirt and strands of grass between her toes and thought, 'my path never changes'.
Sitting on her bench, she took a glance at her surroundings. And breathed a sigh. A sigh is all she could muster when thinking about all the events and experiences that had made her into the person that sat on this bench. Flashbacks and old faces she used to see on a regular basis, now were gone. Disintegrated into thin air and all it took was a stupid choice. A decision. But what a difference it all would make in the long run...who knew? Bad decisions had been made all her life. Even when she tried to think of good times, the bad ones followed them instantly. These thoughts alone caused a sting in her nose and a tear to materialize and cascade down her face.
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