Sometimes, you’ll meet new people that helps you forget what you’re doing and what you’re going through. You’d think you found the one but you’ll get your heart broken then realized that it’s important to move on and live your life.
Wait, have you ever feel being alone? Like, you don't want to talk to anyone. Like one of those places where you go to when you want to be alone, but not always the sad type of alone. I think, the room where you goes when you're feeling alone is your bedroom or whatever; mine is an oak tree. It's not located far away from my house however, it's not near either. When you walk up that place, you can only just see the tree standing there. Getting bigger every steps you made. So close yet so far is how you'd phrase it as.
Here's the story--- I'm never alone when I reach that tree. Why? Well, when I'm just a young guy, I saw a girl sitting under the branches. Of course, I was mad that she stepped to 'my property'. But I got used seeing her there. A few weeks passed and I discovered that she was a half Americana, just like me (but there's a quite difference, I'm a lad and she's a lady). Her name was Scarlet and she's so beautiful.
I guess as teenagers, we're not completely comfortable when we were telling some things to our parents. I never even told to my mom that I got a very low grades when I was in grade 8. I told Scarlet, though. She always listened, never judged.
"So you're going to continue spacing out and not help me?" Scarlet shouted.
"Wait!" I ran to her. I hold the heavy white bag and asked her, "What's this?"
"Fairies! I've been thinking about it while ago, and I thought that we could decorate that tree with lights. Fairy Lights!" she said and clapped her hands together. "What you think?"
"Scarlet..... I love you, as a friend, but you can't go 'round on that tree just to decorate it." I said and she immediately frowned. " And how are you supposed to plug the lights in, in the first place?”
“Charlie, I’m not dumb like you. They run on batteries. And yes we can! We've been together with this tree for over a decade. No one’s been bothering us!” She crossed her arms at me. “So are you willing to help or not?”
“The only thing I’m going to be doing is bring this bag up.”
“I’ll do that for myself then! You can go home and be boring and watch anime and do whatever you do!” I laughed at her. “You won’t be laughing when you realize how pretty it’ll be. I only wanted you to help because you can climb trees anyway!”
“She’s so stubborn.” I rolled my eyes, watching her arms reaching for the branch.
2 days passed and she finished decorating it. I, with my pride hanging low, helped out after seeing her scraped knees. We sat down under the ‘new’ tree together, sipping quietly on the hot chocolates.
I've got a weird feeling when she didn't come the next morning. I waited all day but my hope drops low when evening came. She didn't come. This scene repeated for some weeks. I can't call or text her because I've got zero on her number. After a month, I stopped waiting for her in our normal location, and also had enough of her silent treatment and stormed to her parents’ house.
I couldn't believe what I heard from the poor, crying Mrs. Washington.
“Oh, Charlie. Didn't you know? Scarlet is dead. She committed suicide last month after she came home. She’s been depressed, Charlie. I thought you could have helped her but I guess my baby wasn't strong enough. She was buried under the tree and she left this for you.” She gave me a letter with her weak hands.
Reading the letter was the equivalent to 50 stabs in your heart. She told me her story on how she was bullied at school, how she had a mental health problem and all the other things that many young girls go through. She told me the real reason why she wanted to decorate the tree; so her last memory would be one of her and me, or rather, filled with happiness.
Scarlet Washington was a happy girl on the outside. She smiled like a fool 24/7, made jokes that were half of the time lame. She looked fine. But that’s the thing, we don’t know how she really was. She was depressed, crying for help. She was so delicate.
This was the last time I climbed the hill to be under the tree, and I never went back down.
