If the mountains could speak

Whoosh

Whoosh

Whoosh

The wind ran through the trees, bringing them to life; speaking to them, answering long forgotten questions, picking up old conversations.

I pressed my palm to an old elm and felt it creak with age...Just standing there, I listened, trying to decipher the ancient language it was speaking, trying to connect with its soul.

After what felt like a lifetime, I straightened up with a sigh. Of course I couldn't - the fairy tales and folklore I obsessed over were just that; tales, tales to to sooth frazzled young minds to sleep. No matter how much I wanted it to be true, it never would be. Not while I was still sane, anyway. I shuddered at the thought.

My brother was at his wit's end. He wanted me to be normal, to have lots of friends and go to parties. Instead I grew up to be weird Autumn, the girl whose hair got pulled, whose face got sneered at. I never fitted in anywhere, not me, who had one friend and only one. Sam. Sam, whose earphones were permanently glued to his ears and whose attitude revolved around his middle finger. Me, who didn't go to parties and liked the darkness more than the light. Me with my bare feet, ratty sneakers and long dresses, my long, untamed red hair and wild hazel eyes. I was an outcast in the simplest form of the word, the piece of cloth left after you made a dress. I accepted the fact that I was different and when Sam came along and taught me that different was beautiful, I came alive. I owe my life to Sam, I thought as I started walking home. That thought frighted me.

The sound of a twig snapping broke my train of thought.

A bird fluttered past my ear, its magenta wing glinting in the sun. I stretched out my hands, reaching for the sky as if I would float up and soar with the bird.

A ghostly chuckle floated past my ear, making my toes curl and my hair stand on end, making my finger tips tingle and warming the tip of my nose. I swung around, my hair whipping against my cheek, but no sign of the owner of the chuckle could be seen. I looked around, searching the trees. Suddenly I felt that gut wrenching feeling, the instinct that tells you when you're being watched. I stumbled backwards and started running, my scarlet dress bellowing out behind me, tripping me. I stretched out my arms instinctively reaching for the light on the edge of the trees, like a child that was afraid of the dark. As I burst into the sunlight I heard it again, that voice, this time just my name. Autumn... and a little laugh. Somehow, it filled with me with a overwhelming sense of sadness. It was twisted and bitter. I fleetingly glanced at the tree line and in that glance I thought I saw a boy, with long black hair twisting in the wind, hand outstretched as if he had lost something.

I ran all the way home (which wasn't very far; it was just down the road from the forest) and opened the door, slamming it behind me. The familiar smell of sunbaked laundry and fangi pani greeted me.

I slowed down until I was completely stationary and turned, pressing my palm to a tree.

"Hello?"

The green light filtering through the canopy of trees overhead gave nothing away. I shrugged, turned back and slowly made my way home.

''PHOENIX!!'' I called.

''I'M IN THE KITCHEN!'' came the garbled reply. I made my way slowly to the kitchen, already knowing what the first words out of my brothers mouth would be before he even said them. They were written all over his face.

''You were in the woods again, weren't you?"

I couldn't lie, not to him. I just nodded mutely, biting my lip and staring out the window. I watched as a bird rested on the sill and scrutinized me with its little pebble eyes. "Tams,'' he sighed.