Their Last Choice.

Their Last Choice [1]

Chapter One

Claudia's Point Of View

I tore the page of my drawling of the oak tree out of my sketch book. It looked more skeleton-like than it did alive.

     I gazed at the real, and very much alive, oak tree that grew by the fence in the front right hand corner of the yard. I rolled the charcoal pencil between my fingers and looked down at my drawing again. The branches were all on the wrong angles, and the knot in bottom branch should've been tilted up, not down. All I could see was the old tree that had clearly withered over the time I'd grown up, when I looked at my piece of paper.

     Now, as I sat on the veranda stairs, leaning up against the wooden post that connected to the roof, watching the tree sway in the moonlight, it stirred memories. I zipped my hoodie up higher, attempting to stay warm, as the chilly July breeze whipped around me and down through the corridor to the front entry of the house.

     I looked back up to the oak tree. Closer. I need to be closer.

     I tucked the sketch book under my right arm and pushed my pencil through the hair tie that was wrapped around my ponytail at the back of my head.

     I got up and walked down the veranda to the base of the oak tree, and then kicked off my shoes. I reached up and grabbed the lowest branch and swung myself up. I grabbed another branch and climbed a few feet higher. My feet scraped against the dry, ashy-brown bark as I pulled myself up the tree.

     I was a few metres below the top canopy when the branches began to get too thin and wouldn't support me. I reached up and grabbed the biggest branch I could see, and pulled myself up so I was sitting in the crook.

     I willed myself to look down at the ground. I gazed out across the neighbourhood. Sitting in the oak tree gave a bird's-eye view of the whole suburb. Through the canopy of branches, I could see the rooves of houses and children playing cricket on the roads.

     The wind buzzed past, tree branches swayed above me, and a ringing sound filled my ears.

I looked up. The stars shimmered in the dark sky; black storm clouds drifted together, forming an even larger abundance of darkness.

     I pulled my sketch book out from under my hoodie. I slowly edged over slightly into another crook of a branch. I pulled my legs up onto the branch underneath, and placed the sketch book on my lap and against my knees.

     I put the charcoal pencil to the paper. I hesitated for a moment. A fair amount of the oak branches were obscured by other branches, but it looked like it had when I sat here as a kid. Not patched and old, but inviting and solid. My hand started moving, drawing what I saw.

     'See how the sun glints off the wind vane?' he pointed to the piece of the tree as he pushed his hair out of his eyes. 'Draw the dark, not the light itself.'

     I blinked, and almost dropped my pencil. Memories. This tree held memories, ones I tried to desperately forget.

     I continued to draw, letting charcoal lines flow right out of the pencil, until my hand felt tired and my knuckles cramped.

     Thunder filed around me; the silence of the night now gone. I looked up at the sky as lightning struck several times. Flashes of light bounced off the enclosing darkness, and as if on cue, the clouds opened up and warm, large droplets of rain poured down from the sky.

     I quickly tucked my sketch book back in under my hoodie and started climbing back down the oak tree.

     I slipped on a lower branch. Water dropped off the edges and down to the lower canopies-all the branches were dangerously slippery and I lost footing. I slipped off the last branch and ran across the lawn, which was lapping with water, and mud flicked up the backs of my legs. I darted around the fence and jumped up the veranda stairs.

     I threw my soggy shoes into a corner, and pulled out my sketch book. The only mark on the paper was in the top left corner where my finger had smudged the charcoal.

     'Claudia, darling, come here please.' I turned around to face the front door. My mother was standing behind the door, but holding it open.

     'Yeah, mama?' I said, as I walked through the door into the hallway.

     'I have to go out and get some things. Dinner is in the oven and Bridget's at a friends house for the evening.'

     'That's fine. Bye mum,' I kissed her cheek and walked out of the room.

     I ran up the stairs and skipped several at a time, turned the corner and stumbled into my room,  shutting the door behind me. I flicked the switch on my speakers and music started blaring. I put my sketch book, pencil and drawing on my duchess. I danced my way around to my closet and stripped off my wet clothing, dropping them on the carpet floor.

     I pulled out an oversized flannelette t-shirt and slipped that on over my head. I flopped down onto my bed and lay down in between the half a dozen pillows, pulling a book onto my lap. I grabbed my headphones and iPod, and pressed play. And slowly, as time went by, I drifted into a peaceful, deep sleep.