Calling Ryan

All Alone

There once was a tree

It's mighty branches

Flew in the breeze

Shading a city

Beneath its leaves

The colors of Autumn

So lightly fell

Replaced with cold and icy hell

Leaving the people

With deadly peace

Forever frozen beneath the tree

I feel like the world is plummeting into chaos. It's hard to deny. Plagues have spread, and wars torment the east. I no longer live in a safe place, armies have burnt my village to the ground. I survived, but only because I am, dare I say, smarter than the general population.

I believe everyone was born with a gift. Some may call it a superpower. For instance, one can make the best cake this kingdom has ever tasted, while another could climb vertical cliffs or heal at an expediated rate. Then there are others like me. I am invisible to a lot of people. This doesn't mean that they can see through me, or that they don't know I exist, only that I blend in and I'm just to typical to care about. People ignore me, not seeing any threat in something as significant as a gal, of dust beneath their bed. I also have a knack for overhearing information and news that might actually be useful. It kind of brings a smile to my face now that I think about it.

When I was younger these gifts made me feel like an outcast, and sometimes I wanted to wander in the wilderness, but my duties kept me back. Other children would spend their days chasing grimy rodents and stray animals that by chance walked in their path. I was much more content being at home and learning to fight. My older brother was a skilled fighter and was about to join the army. Back then, it seemed like an honor rather than a cruel task enforced upon men. No women were allowed to join the army, that saddened me, but it is only because the children need more care and protecting. If you ask me, children seem pretty useless. Yes, I was once a child, but even now I find my former self idiotic and pointless. Besides, the whole childbearing process seems to difficult, not to mention, PAINFUL!

Anyways, my brother is presumed to be dead, alongside my father and mother who perished when the enemy overtook our little town. I would have tried to save some people, but I barely escaped with my own life. It is kind of sad to watch wooden houses, barns, and markets go up in a roar of flames, but what could I really do? Nothing but sit atop an old cottonwood tree listening to the screams echo off the rolling hills and black ashes swirl up into the sky. In a way, it was almost peaceful.