The Bell Tower

Chapter 1

The first thing to hit me is the sound of bells. The cold doesn't hurt so much as the instantaneous trepidation that comes with the ringing in my ears; Waking.

Questions and emotion spiral deep, culminating in the center of my mind from which my muscles are triggered into a shiver. Seconds pass before I manage a breath, shallow at best. My being is rejecting the idea of being alive.

The snow is a thick residue that's buried me. Every crystal that sparkles in the white evokes, and yet every attempt I make to hold on becomes increasingly futile as the sound of bells dissipates. Then, there's only white.

I timidly push through the snow and stand. The wind is whispering through my ears, blocking my thought process. It seems to just be temporary at first, but as time continues it remains incessant.

Ahead of me, the snowy landscape extends to the horizon, free of vegetation or any other signs of life. On the verge of all that can be seen, there stands a tower, extending far into the overcast sky above. Behind it, the peak of a sun sits, stagnant. Silhouettes are illuminated by the light.

A cluster of dark dark clouds manifests themselves in every other direction, virtually creating a tunnel. It seems a path has already been made for me by the dice of fate.

So, I trudge through the snow; every step forces me to peel away from my sunken position. But I'm gradually ascending from my predicament; eventually I reasonably stumble my way across the surface of the wintery terrain.

As my awkward trot brings me closer to the horizon, I begin to see more figures surrounding me; translucent in appearance. People? Like me? The wind refuses to let me consider the preposition.

The closer I get to the tower the more I'm able to fully grasp its enormity. From this perspective, I see that the clouds part where the tower continuously reaches into the atmosphere.

The tower had no end in sight. It's wooden, old and rustic. Engravings mark the bottom of it, cryptic in intent. As it extends, it seemed to grow more modern, with steel and other materials making up different portions. It's... Chaotic, failing to reach any form of cohesiveness as markings and materials are scattered in seemingly random fashion.

I sigh, finally reaching the tower's base. Here, the figures surrounding it are far more numerous. From what I see, most of them simply exist; failing to interact or even move. It's like this whole reality is made up of oblivion, people that exist free of burden or recollection. Something about it is unsettling.

I sit, letting myself sink into the snow as I lean back into the base of the tower. The more I sink, the more I embrace the wind hollowing out my brain. The more I embrace the state of nonexistence, the complete and utter loss of who I was and who I wanted to be.

It's then that the bells reverberate through me.

The woman looms above me, holding out her hand in the most tender way she can muster. There's something undeniably familiar about her; the look in her eyes accepting, while the teeth digging into her lip keep her refrained. It was always like that with her.

"If I could tell you..." her voice trails off, distant.

I want to ask her what. Instead, my voice gives way without my control. "Mommy?"

As she turns away, the scenery grows vivid; the faded mist surrounding her gives way to an emerald green hill, grass billowing. Atop it sits a windmill, accompanied by a wooden bench overlooking a city. The woman is approaching the vista. I follow.

"This is it, is all. This is where we met." Her smile is dreary, eyes blurred with tears reflecting the past. She's so overwhelmed with emotion she's almost laughing. "Some day you'll understand."

I nod, hugging her leg. I want to understand; why she's upset, why she has to struggle to communicate... What happened.

She looks at me, breathing deeply. Her hand clasps mine, and she walks forward to the park bench. There, we sit.

My legs dangle above the ground. I feel the warmth of the setting sun, as it illuminates the city, a shadowy, bustling foreground. I can feel the woman's heartbeat through her hand, as above us crepuscule weighs in.

"Once upon a time..." She starts, and I grasp her hand even tighter to feel her heartbeat increase even more. I look to her for reassurance, and am greeted with her soft lips turned up alongside a sigh.

"A long time ago, one summer... someone planted a seed on this hill. The soil was rough, and many doubted that it would be able to fully mature. Against all odds, the seed grew. It grew and grew, until it became a mighty tree. Despite being frail, it lived through the fall and winter. And in the spring, it grew more beautiful than ever; both inside and out. In the summer, the person to plant the seed all that time ago returned and planted another. This one was... It was different, it was... Strong. No one thought it would fail to grow. And sure enough, it did grow. It grew and grew, and as it grew its roots and its branches weaved into the roots and branches of the other tree. The first tree was a magnificent cherry blossom, while the second was an acorn tree. Yet, despite their differences, their roots twisted together until both became one being. A whole year passed, and the trees lived happily. But that next fall... That next fall, the cherry blossom grew very ill."
The woman stops, swallowing hard and breathing in shallow bursts. When she looks back at me, I can feel her body shake. I blatantly beckon with a child's lack of comprehension, "More story!"

She shakes her head, letting a streak of wet slide across her face. "The cherry blossom became something the acorn tree was unable to fathom; gone. So the tree stood there, not really sure why she even continued to stand, for many years. Until eventually, she was blown away.

"But before she could go, she had one thing to give to the earth." The woman picks up an acorn from the underbrush, holding it between her eyes as she sniffles. "This is... What she left behind." She moves her arm down, smiling bitterly as she places it just in my reach. "So... Will you take it, Willow?"

I shudder at the sound of my name. Around me, the world is blurring again, the oncoming night phasing into a thick grey. I pull the acorn from her hands, grasping it firmly as bells start pulling me back to reality.

"I promise to keep it safe."

I grasp at the white, curling it in the palm of my hand into the shape of an acorn; or maybe it was just a seed. The wind, the cold, the last toll of the bell permeating through me; it wants me to let go.

So I hold on even tighter.