Oblivion

Chronicles of a Dryad

I could feel the laughter and bustle around me. Peaceful nights, cheerful days. I was very accustomed to the movement near me. Some time ago, I had many friends by my side, keeping me company, but they made them disappear. They burned them to the root, reduced completely to ashes. Yet, one of them had survived; she was amusing, used to provide ammunition to the little ones during the warm seasons. We enjoyed the warmth of the sun together, swayed with the wind, and in the nights, we joined our branches to withstand the cold and storms. When the tiny silhouettes left, I could enjoy my solitude, and it was then that my memory traveled to the past.

Yes, it was during those afternoons, as the sun began to set, when all my memories returned. I remember my walks along the coast when my roots were large enough to hold me upright but not so much to sink into the earth and make me rest. I was young, had no intention of that yet, did not feel the fatigue that later overwhelmed me. Although I was young, my species is gigantic, so I didn't usually go unnoticed, only during walks through those spectacular, ancient, and gigantic forests did I discover what it is like to feel small.

I sometimes remembered my childhood as well. The moment when my then-small eyes saw for the first time the star that gives us life. When a little later, I was still nothing more than two scrawny twigs, with only two or three leaves on each of them. When I feared the wind, thinking that at any moment, it would drag me with it to its home. When I yawned long before lying down to watch the clouds after running and playing with my sisters and brothers.

And I also remembered the fatigue I mentioned earlier, that mortal fatigue. We were told when we were little that we were free to explore the world, to walk to the end of the trail, that we would have plenty of time to enjoy our youth. Yet, we were also warned that a crucial moment would come in our lives. We had to prepare for that moment because we would have to make a decision, a decision that would accompany us until the end of our existence. A decision that, if we regretted later, we would not be able to do anything to amend it. I remember the beginning of that stage: my feet began to grow rapidly, the roots extended over the ground trying to cling to it. They sought to submerge underground, and each time it became more complicated and painful to keep moving forward. If you stayed too long in one place, the roots began to bury themselves in the earth, and then, if you wanted to move forward, it was very difficult to detach them from the ground. They stretched and cut because they didn't want to let go. I suffered a lot finding the ideal place for me; in reality, I was not able to find it by myself; it was the place that found me. I remember that day; I could barely keep pace in search of the ideal place to finally rest. Night fell, and I gave up. When I woke up, everything had changed. I haven't been able to decipher if it was me who moved incredibly far during a sleepwalking night or if it was the place that moved to where I was. Regardless of how, the important thing is that the second important stage of my life had just begun, my adult stage. It was difficult for me to leave behind what I believed meant being free, resign myself that I would never explore a new place again. However, I was wrong. Because not only by walking do you get to places never before seen by your eyes, but when you find your home, it also changes, and suddenly it can amaze you with something completely new, something never before experienced.

And that's what happened. After many solar cycles, many springs, and many autumns, a rumor began to be heard. The word was spreading that metal machines would come to invade our lands. And so they did. They swept everything; everything and everyone. They mutilated my sisters and friends, chopped them into little pieces, and burned them. It was terrible; I can't help but cry every time I think of them. Still, it comforts me to think that now their souls are free once again. I, on the other hand, remain in the same place. The metal machines left, and others arrived, built homes around me, and then the little ones arrived. They ran around me; some bold ones even tried to climb me, most failed. They used to bounce spheres on the rigid, grayish ground; they called them balls. Sometimes, they fell on my head and got stuck in my hair; it was fun, but they stopped laughing, and they had to get a new ball.

Time continued to pass; the little ones grew, and I was still there, aging slowly at my own pace. One day, a new autumn began; it didn't seem to be anything different from the previous ones, and it wasn't, the different one was me. I didn't know it at that moment, but that would be the last time my hair was dyed green. In spring, the others regained their greenery, and I didn't, I remained with dark brown hair. Soon, my soul would leave what was once my body. And when the moment came, I closed my eyes, took my last breath, and reunited with my sisters.