Short Tales

Everteeth Trees

"Hit!"

            His hand never moved back, but it did feel good to smack some thing. The doctors told me that smacking something would help trauma, along with music, learning a new instrument and meditation.

Meditation.

             I did none of those. I swung my elbow into his mitt and immediately regretted it. The glove, apparently, protects your hand. Like, don't swing without it protection. My skin started to bruise and swell, making me receive a really...pitiful look from the instructor.

             Thank god this is a private class.

              His pity pisses me off. I fucking hate pity. I never wanted pity, or to take taekwon-something classes. I mean, trauma doesn't warrant overreaction and a literal platoon of psychologists and doctors- sorry - neurochemists. Shit, if that wasn't the most insane reaction I've ever seen...anyway, to understand my diary doctor, I'll have to backtrack a bit.

*      *      *          

                "One...more...pull," I grunted. I flopped unto the grass on top of the plateau less than gracefully, breathing heavily after completing my fastest climb ever. I rolled away from the edge and checked my timer. Before I could though, I noticed something strange.

                  A house. On the highest mountain in Lebanon, there was a suburbian house. Sitting there. There was something mesmerizing about it, the perfectly streaked white paint, a quaint little verandah with a rocking chair being blown by the mountain air.

                  Creak, creak it went.

                   The forest behind it--what? There wasn't supposed to be a forest up here, nowhere in this frigid hellscape should have anything but ice and rocks up this high. Gods bless the few patches of grass. The only beauty was waaaay lower down, waterfalls cascading, the most beautiful pla--I digress. The important thing is there aren't supposed to be any forests. 

                    The rocking chair hypnotized me, pulling me closer, the light from the fading sun behind the trees providing perfect lighting. Before I knew it, I had already stepped past the chair and had opened the door. The creaking suddenly stopped and I broke into a cold sweat. I started hyperventilating, suddenly panicky and anxious. 

                    The door slammed behind me, the shudder shaking the floor and the flesh oozing from the walls. It spread across the whitewashed drywall like wildfire in the summer, growing eyes and teeth jutting out from odd angles, but no skin. 

Never skin.

                     I threw myself through a nearby window, rolling and sliding on the damp grass. It had turned night by now, the moon's silver glow casting a moment of beauty on this completely horrifying experience. I scrambled over the wet grass and ran into the forest, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

                      I let out a giddy laugh and ran faster, not seeing the root in front of me--I could swear nothing was there--and went careening through the air. I saw the trees though.

                      The trees. They smiled at me. The trees stared at me without eyes, absolutely perfect teeth stretched all the way around the trunk. They stretched their limbs out to me. I smiled too.

                      I took them.

                                                              ~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~ 

That was a short story I wrote for class modified cuz the picture I wrote from then wasn't really what I wanted. If you like, plez comment, mean or not (i just wanna know someone atleast read the entire thing). So, uh.....comment, i guess? :\/ byee