When Things Fade

Untitled Part 1

The clock read 6:19PM. I looked out my bedroom window to find her sitting beneath the tree that sat outside my neighbor's fence line. At the same time everyday I would watch her walk up to that tree and sit there contemplating what to do with herself until the sunlight that had once illuminated the tree's leaves was gone. She was a senior at my high school, but with me being a freshman I didn't have much of an excuse to talk to her. Occasionally I would see her in passing between classes. I could see in her eyes everything she kept bottled up inside that was hidden behind her exhilarating smile. I never thought to ask her why she would go and sit under that maple tree everyday, but I think it was because I was too caught up in trying to see past her facade.

After one rainy day in April I watched as she dropped her act and unbottled all she had kept deep within her. It was 6:19 and there she sat at the base of the old tree. Her arms were wrapped around her legs, pulling them into her chest while her head rested on her knees. Quiet sobs seeped from her lips and traveled up to my open window grabbing my attention. I sat at my desk for hours watching her through the window, how she tried to fight off the pain, but it kept creeping back, pushing her further into a pit of her own sorrows. You could tell by her softened weeps that she accepted the thought of her persistent pain. Her tears soon subsided leading her to leave the tree standing alone as she trudged off with her head down, back to reality.

A week had gone by and I had seen her throughout the halls at school more than usual, but there was no sight of her under the old maple tree. That following Tuesday evening I was sat up in my room writing when a sudden motion from outside caught my attention. She was descending the hill on the little path she had created that led to the tree. I turned from the window to glance at my clock. It was 6:19. There was a strange grace about her presence as she began to play with the earth that formed the base of the maple tree. With her back to me I could see a small mound of topsoil forming to the right of her which was later redistributed back in front of her.

Clouds gradually started to roll in with drops of rain escaping their hold. Dirt stains blemished her ensemble as she sat under the tree, dressed in white, and putting off crying. The exertion of the rain had forcefully increased turning the girl into nothing but a blur. She sat there throughout the storm unbothered by the concept of being soaking wet. Before leaving my house for dinner I took one last look at the girl, and with a heavy heart I turned away, leaving her there under the maple tree that personified something that once was, but is now no more than a recollection of precious memories of which she mourns.

I took the next day off school to relax and destress from all the pressure of exams. After finally getting out of bed I made it a point to go out to the old maple tree to see if the girl had left any trace of her presence. While walking down the stairs from my back deck I quickly glanced at the spot where she usually sits and could see the outline of something out of place. As I neared the tree three little orange bottles became more visible, prescription bottles. My curiosity heightened at the ominous sight, but that curiosity soon transformed to horror when I knelt down to read the bottles and saw a lifeless porcelain hand around the opposite side of the tree. I crept around the tree to find the girl I once knew to be full of sadness and hurt now at peace with the world, her soul nothing but a floating fascination amongst all others passed. Her dress was dampened and stained by the earth beneath her. After arriving dressed in white she left her safe haven under that old maple tree enveloped in black for the very last time. I looked down at my phone as they carried her away; it was 6:19.

Pictures of her with family and friends scattered the halls at school, the news, and all the local papers. She was thought highly of amongst her peers, and left an impression on almost everyone she met. This was all evident by the melancholy feel that lingered in the air at school.

While sitting at my desk looking out my window to the lonely tree where she once sat, the image of her lifeless body flashed in my head. That's when I thought back to earlier that day when she was digging around the tree's roots and the dirt stains on her dress. It was a strange sight in the moment, but after I thought about it, it all made sense. My desk chair slid across my floor as I flew out of my seat, racing down the stairs. After abruptly approaching the tree I collapsed to my hands and knees and immediately began shoveling the loose dirt at it's base. Moments later I reached what I was hoping to find, a wooden cigar box filled with pictures and mementos, and under that a letter. I contemplated taking it to the police for them to give to her family, but it didn't seem as if it was meant for them, but for someone else, a lover. Her words were like a broken record, constantly playing through my head for days on end; words of love, betrayal and just life overall. I could relate to what she was saying, but it all had a backstory to it that I wasn't knowledgeable of.

It wasn't until a couple weeks later that all the pieces of this unsolved mystery came together. School was out and I was sat out on my deck enjoying my new found freedom and the warmth of the sun when I noticed movement out of my peripheral vision. It was a sight all too familiar, but this time it was a boy crying under the old maple tree. It took only a few seconds to realize who the boy was. With this realization I went to retrieve something of which I felt belonged to him. I walked slowly to keep from startling him with the little wooden box in my hands. He lifted his head from his hands with an inquisitive look that quickly turned to solace once he caught sight of the box. I handed it down to him as he looked up at me with thankful green eyes. He picked through the box with care, replaying the memories that came along with each piece it held. The last thing he picked up was her letter. Tears stained his cheeks as he read each meticulously placed word.

I loved him, so I let him go. There was nothing I could do to prevent him from thinking of her when he looked at me. Watching the sincerity of his love fade away while we were still together hurt more than the idea of us being apart. My misery was inevitable, and that's what I feared the most. Without him everything changed, some things for the better and some for the worst. My possibilities were endless now that I didn't have to worry about how my life choices would affect our relationship. I was able to set out on any adventure my heart desired, but I couldn't think of anywhere I would want to go without him by my side. I began to override all of the good things that came from our love story ending with the bad, pushing myself to a place that refused to appreciate all the wonderful things life had to offer. That's when I decided to come back to this spot under the old maple tree. Little things littered the ground, triggering old memories of all the times we spent here. When I closed my eyes I could still see his emerald green orbs looking down at me. Sitting in silence and listening to the echoes of what we used to be provided a source of temporary relief from the pain, but when away from this spot and watching him transform into something he wasn't is when the pain would then settle back in. Not only did I watch the guy I gave my whole heart to become a stranger, but I also got to see every last bit of his love for me disappear as he intertwined his soul with another girl.

That's when it all changed and I accepted defeat to my sorrows.

So here under this old maple tree I leave a temple that once embodied one of the brightest souls along with tokens of the most memorable moments in my life. To whomever is reading this, don't feel like it ended too soon for me for I was able to experience what it feels like to give my whole heart, body and soul to someone, and for them to do the same in return, even if it was only for a short time.