It was end of July near August. The air was brisk and perfect out. I felt my leaves moveing with the little breeze their was. It felt good,because all summer it was extraordinary hot out. Now it was finally perfect. I looked at the paved path before me. Then I looked at my tree friends,and I smiled to myself. Every little thing was perfect. The birds who were nesting in my branches were asleep for once. It was around midnight,and everything was silent. Not to silent,but like the comforting silence you get when you read a book. The silence you could snuggle with and drink maple syrup. I let my thoughts drift. Till I heard the sound of a twig breaking,and causeing me to snap out of my train of tree thoughts. I looked around to see the source. All I saw was a girl 10 or 11 with dark brown hair,and soft chocolate eyes looking at the swing on my branches. It was old and white. I saw that the girl was broken. She was lost and broken. Not the physical broken. No the far more worse type of broken. The mental kind of broken. Like she lost someone or something she loved. The girl had silent tears streaming down her face,but I don't think she noticed. She would have wiped them if she did know. I felt her sit on my swing. She swang while crieing. It broke my heart. She was so young and already broken. She would need some glue to fix her. I heard her voice after 15-30 minutes after she airvied. It was small and weak. Not many humans accept the fact trees are just like them,because for millions of years trees where objects plants. Humans didn't realise that trees always listened. From the beginning of time. Till this day in late July. The girl started speaking to a friend who passed away. Her voice was soft as silk,and she spoke barley above a whisper. Her voice was quivering,and her entire frame was shakeing more than a deer caught in headlights. I heard a few words along the lines of suicde and how she should have stopped it. I've heard those words many a times. I am very old and very wise. I have this comforting sense to people. I heard her sobs, and I felt her tears being shed on me. Soon she finshed talking. She looled exhausted,she just poured her heart and soul out to me. She didnt even realise it, or maybe she did realise I listened. Maybe she did this,because she couldn't tell anyone else. She had friends,but she didn't feel friends enough with them to tell them. So she sought out a stranger. A random thing. Something old and wise like me. I heard her state clearly 2 words "Thank You". Her breathing slowed down and she soon fell asleep. I put my branches around the swing like a bubble. A protective bubble.
Its been 20 years since that night. Nothing has changed very much. She still vists every day. She tells me everything,and sometimes she was smiling. Other times she was crieing. Her friends death still affected her. She wasn't as broken now. She even got married and had 2 kids. She taped their photos onto me,so I could see them. Her husband was in the Air Force. He was deployed in Syria. Today she looked even more broken then the first night. She sat down on the swing. For the first time ever she didn't speak. Didn't say a word. I felt this feeling something was really wrong. I heard 2 words "He's dead" come flieing out of her mouth. It took me a little while,but I figured out he meant her husband. Her husbands dead. I just sat their,and heard her drown me in all this feeling and stories about her husband. She shead 1 little tear. It was like the first night all over again. She slept on my swing,and I protected her in her bubble. She whispered "Thank you". Before sleeping on the swing.
It was 40 years since that day her husband died. She still comed to talk to me every night. Every single night. Even though she's in her late seventies now. She was slowly dieing of lung cancer. I could tell she didn't have much time left. This woman could barley walk,would walk a hour to and from just to speak to me. A old pine tree. I didn't even grow pine cones no more. Everytime she would say 4 sentences she would have a coughing fit. I would worry every time she talked. She always was smiling. Even when she was coughing. She looked so frail,but at the same time so young. She rarley talked anymore. A few words here and their. Today was the 60th anniversary of the day she came to me and cried. I listened to her more than I did anything esle. I knew her better than the back of my tree bark. She said 2 words with her last breath "Thank You". I finally spoke and said "No Thank you. She stopped breathing soon. I knew she was gone. I covered her body in green leaves. Forming a circle around her,because I felt like that's what she wanted. I got in my position of protecting her, and I cried my heart out. 60 years I had these tears built up. 60 years. I couldn't cry. To everyone esle I am a tree. Just a tree. I don't feel things. They are so wrong. I soon gave my last breath to. I died protecting her
