The Tree House

Six Years Old

"What's that, Georgie?" Billy asked in his high pitched, six year old voice. He fidgeted with his blue baseball cap in fright. He stared straight ahead at the massive tree before him. Far above the two boys the branches twisted like distorted limbs reaching out towards them. The monstrous mass in the tree created a shadow pool at their feet.

"I don't really know. It wasn't there yesterday after school." Georgie replied. His curiosity had finally gotten the best of him, as he made his way towards the raggedy rope ladder hanging gently from the tree.

"Don't go up there! You don't know what you'll find and who knows if it's safe?" Georgie peered down at his friend, a smile dancing across his lips.

"That's whats so fun about it!" He replied.

Inside the mass, his eyes were drawn to a figure in the corner. The figure was violently convulsing and sobbing uncontrollably. Its back felt turned to Georgie, but something about it was eerily familiar. Without warning, Georgie's head began to sear with pain. It seemed to him that something was picking through his mind, fingering through moments like his brain was a filing cabinet and they needed a certain document. He stumbled back to the ladder, struggling to get away from the tree. The moment his shoes hit the soft earth, the headache dissipated. He turned on his heel only to be met with an empty yard. Billy was nowhere to be found. Georgie closed his eyes, imagining that everything was a dream.