Beneath the Wishing Tree

Chapter One: Through the Glass

"I remember what it felt like." She shut her eyes. "Not feeling anything at all." She reopened them. Her head rest on the mossy side of the tree with a closed book in her crossed arms, over her chest. She was astonishing. She looked like a rainbow, while I looked like the rain. Her name is Hope. She has a very brittle figure, and she's pale. She had dark wavy hair that seemed to accent everything around her. A maroon hoodie, black ripped jeans, and a black beanie on her head. She smiled at the sky, and the branches that looked down at her. I could hear her music playing faintly, from the distance between us.

She sat up, looking down at her phone and furrowing her eyebrows. She grabbed her brown satchel bag, folding it over with the book placed inside and put over her shoulder, and rested by her thigh. She started making her way down the road. From where I sat on a red bench, I watched her walk away as she vanished like mist in the rain. I took a huff and looked up at the clouds. It was bright just a few moments ago but the clouds seemed to move in and turn gray. I got up from my spot and started moving towards home with the gloom dimming the sky.

I stared at my gray shoes the entire way. The sound of cars zoomed by, shitty mufflers and loud music, with the groan of engines. I reached my street, which was very long with big houses, mine being the smallest. I walked down the pavement reaching my house, further away from the rest. I walked up the white driveway and into the atmosphere of my parental units. I greeted my aunt at the counter, grabbing myself a water and heading to my room. The cascading staircase was a straight walk up, I sat on the maroon couch in my room after opening my curtains to allow the sunlight, that wasn't really there, to fill my room. I lived in Ohio so the weather kind of decided what it wanted to do. It was mid fall and the leaves roamed the ground and blew in the wind. There was a forest with a creek behind my house but I wasn't really in the mood to walk through the mud and to my treehouse. I plugged in my stereo and hooked up my device. The music blasted through the speakers and I kicked back on my bed. I stared at the little glow in the dark stars on my ceiling. I shut my eyes.

A couple hours had passed because when I woke up it was dark. I looked over at the little alarm clock beside bed. nine twenty-three. I lifted myself off my bed and stood to my feet. Walking over to my desk I picked up my pack of cigarettes, and my lighter beside it. I slipped them into my pocket and made my way out my door, and down the stairs to the closet. I grabbed my long black boots and threw on a light jacket. I opened my front door, where my aunts car was not. I shook my head thinking 'whatever'. I stepped out, shutting the door behind me. I walked around to the back of my house.

The muggy weather kind of put me in the type of mood where I just wanted to curl into a blanket with sad songs and hot cocoa. I trudged through the woods, mud gripping to the bottom of my shoes. I stepped and cracked leaves, broke twigs, and heard the small animals rustling around. I stared at the surroundings around me as I passed the familiar waters. The creek flowed from the small pond a couple miles up, down to a couple states lower.

I walked and walked until I finally reached the small rope ladder which led up. I huffed and began climbing the old ropes. The treehouse was a lighter shade of wood than the tree. It smelled good and looked like it never changed, considering I haven't been here in a couple months. The house was a little bigger than me so I could stand fully straight up. There were leaves resting all over it. The stupid glass windows were still screwed in place considering they were filthy from rain dripping from the tree and down over, bringing excess dirt along. From where I was standing I could see that the wood was damp from top to bottom. More damp by the top and less reaching the floor. The rope swing was still on the side. The fresh air flowing in and out of me. It seemed to creak more than usual but I didn't mind, old or not, this is my place. I entered the small house above the ground. I opened the small door, having to duck while entering.

Everything seemed to still be in place. I heard a large thump. Running to the spot where the windows, I looked outside. Through the glass I saw a slight glimpse of long dark hair and a maroon hoodie hurrying away, not taking a glimpse backwards. I sighed, knowing who it was but distraught because she was in my place. When I find things I care about, I keep them close, never daring to let anyone threaten them. I walked leisurely to the little black beanbag resting on the blue fuzzy carpet I had.

I reached in my pocket for my cigarettes. I pulled out my lighter and put the hot flame to the death. I sat, relaxed, thinking- but never too much. I took slow, immense drags from it, letting all the chemicals and nicotine flood my body. I shut my eyes. What would it be like if he was still here?, I thought.