The Game Of The Trees

Outside The Wall

I woke early, and put on two thick jackets, then grabbed my bag. This was the last time I would see everything I knew. My bag had a picture of my family (when my mother was alive), bags of dried fruit, water bottles, and a glass shard. My bag could not be to heavy, or I would not be able to run as fast.
"Goodbye" I said to my room.
"Goodbye" I said to the houses.
"Goodbye" I said to the cruel people of the town. This was all in my head of course. Telling the people "goodbye" without a reason they knew of, would be like suicide for me.
The snow crunched, like it always had. Everyday was cold. Everyday there was a snow storm, and everyday, we had to work. Finally free, I ran through the town, to the boxes stacked on the wall. I climbed them with all of my hope. Finally at the top, o dropped to the other side. No going back. My lungs started to sting. Finally I was free. No more work. No more cruel people, that I knew of. This forest could hold anything. This whole earth could hold anything for me. All I had ever known was the town. How was I different? Why do I want to leave, and nobody else does? Why am I the only one with ambition?
The trees were dark, and were connected to a wooden trunk. This was something never seen by me. I walked farther into the brush.
The snow was thinner out here. A bird flew from the tree, making me jump from fear. The sky was gray, as usual. The sun couldn't peek through, making everything a bit more terrifying.
Birds flew out of the trees. They were pure black birds. Rose plants grew from all over. I had never seen one before. Thorns from the plants cut me all ober, as I walked through. Puddles of black mud were everywhere. I had been searching for adventure, and now I have one. This is terrifying, but also everything I had been looking for. At the other side of this torturous brush of thorn plants, must be something good.
The Forest was silent. I kept walking, starting to lose my breath. The ground started becoming more uneven. My feet expect another step, but are poorly mistaken, as I start sliding down a hill. I land on my bottom, and slide faster down. My stomach feels as if frogs are jumping around, uncontrollably. Heights We're a fear of mine, that I had hidden from everyone. I was petrified. Oh God. This can't be how I die. No way. God odvioisly has a sense of humour. Finally, I stop rolling. I had hit rocks on the way down. My arms and legs were alreadyh cut and bruised, within an hour of being here. The trees were like a roof above my head. They were beautiful. They were really what was calling me. I stood up, weakly, and walked over to a tree. I placed my hand on it.
I was made to be here. I am meant for the trees.