The Dead Widow's Heart

     If you journey Northwest of the Sonnet Village for about a weeks time, you will come across a wide river. Take the river West by boat for a mile or two until you see the first signs of a dark, redwood forest. Enter the forest at the grove of lilac bushes at the West entrance and take the narrow trail straight for five days time. At the end of these days you should come across a clearing in the trees and along with that, a small village. The Village of Scarlet Oak.

     It’s no secret that from the moment you enter the clearing these people call a village, the air shifts. It’s almost as if a spell was casted on the air, or a heavy tension just hangs over everything. If you ask the people that reside in the village, don’t expect an answer on what exactly it is, not even they know. Instead a better question may be when it started. They know the answer to that like the back of their hands.

    They’ll tell you a tale that is only told there, no outsiders have heard it. However dark it may seem, they discuss it like it’s a child’s tale, and to them it is. Some say it’s a myth, some claim it’s real, the only ones who could really confirm it, however are long dead so now the issue is just left up to debate.

    This story begins two centuries ago, back when now-ancient songs were modern tunes. A small cottage rested on the far Southern side of the clearing and there lived a beautiful woman and her loving husband.

    The couple was not rich, even in the standards of the tiny village. The couple knew that had almost nothing but they could not have cared less. In fact, they were one of the happiest households in the entire village. “As long as I have you, my dear, I have everything.” They would tell each other each night as the sun set.  

    They lived happily for a while but, like all good things, it shortly, and unexpectedly, came to an end.

    No one knows, or perhaps remembers, how exactly he died. Fowl play was not suspected and he was too young for natural causes to be a logical explanation. Perhaps the village didn’t care much about how it happened, as what happened afterwards was much more concerning.

    The wife, now widowed, was heartbroken. The one person she loved was gone forever. The others in the village tried to console her the best they could, but nothing seemed to work for her. The villagers knew she was broken but no one could have predicted what she did next.

    Driven by madness, grief, and hopelessness, she took herself out into the woods a mile from the clearing and took her own life. In her eyes it was the only way to regain happiness, the only way to see her beloved husband again.

    A note left in her cottage was all it took to find her and in a matter of hours, her body was collected. The people of the village had never experienced anything like this before, it was normally a quiet place where the worst that ever happened was a drunken brawl between two men late at night, and even those only ended up with a few cuts and bruises, and not to mention broken pride.

    The people decided to send her body away in the river, the kind of send off only used for those who were meant to be remembered, and she definitely was. The villagers also decided to plant a tree where her body was laid when they found her, a sort of memorial. The tree grew healthily, strongly. The people nurtured it and made sure it had everything it needed to survive.

    The tree turned into a kind of phenomenon after a while as, no matter how much nutrients it was given, it never grew anything on it. The branches were bare and black, like it had been caught in a fire, and no birds or squirrels made the tree their home.

That’s when the tree adopted the name “The Dead Widow’s Heart”. They named it after her for the sole reason that it was very much alive, yet appeared so dead. Just like she had the days that lead up to her death.

From then on, the widow, the tree, it all became like a bedtime story for the adults to tell to their children at night. Not to mention the tree became the top place for villagers to commit suicide by hanging.

So, yes, if you do happen to find this book; if you do find the Village of Scarlet Oak. Just remember the true meaning behind the haunting lullabye:

There once lived a happy family, a kind man and his wife
His light faded early on and there began the widow’s strife
Her beacon of joy faded never to return
The beginning of the end she soon would learn

The tree never sprouted flow’rs nor leaves
The Dead Widow’s Heart they named this tree
Hanging corpses sway in the gentle breeze
Of the ones who ended it all just to make their sorrow flee

She sold everything she owned, every service every good
She left her old life behind and retreated to the woods
A knife to the stomach, she bled and she bled
The fallen leaves were stained in her shade of crimson red

The tree never sprouted flow’rs nor leaves
The Dead Widow’s Heart they named this tree
Hanging corpses sway in the gentle breeze
Of the ones who ended it all just to make their sorrow flee

The village was grieved as her gold faded to grey
They planted a great tree where her still body once laid
Just like this widow’s heart, dead seemed this tree
That is how the trees name came to be

The tree never sprouted flow’rs nor leaves
The Dead Widow’s Heart they named this tree
Hanging corpses sway in the gentle breeze
Of the ones who ended it all just to make their sorrow flee

Those who were troubled, those who despaired
Hung themselves from the tree in the middle of the air
The bark held carved wishes that never would come true
Placed there by lonely souls just like you

The tree never sprouted flow’rs nor leaves
The Dead Widow’s Heart they named this tree
Hanging corpses sway in the gentle breeze
Of the ones who ended it all just to make their sorrow flee

Carve your last wishes into the bark
Gently let your life’s shine fade gently to the dark
And join her chorus of tormented souls
Run off, leave now, let the sorrow make you whole

The tree never sprouted flow’rs nor leaves
The Dead Widow’s Heart they named this tree
Hanging corpses sway in the gentle breeze
Of the ones who ended it all just to make their sorrow flee

The End