Have you ever heard of the Willow's Nook? Down by the pond that's just beyond the orchids? Probably not, considering the fencing that's meant to keep us out. Or maybe in, I still haven't figured that out. Not that it's my top priority.
No, my type priority is what I once found in the Willow's Nook.
Maybe I should first tell you how I came upon the Willow's Nook, instead of jumping to what I found and explaining later.
Well, to begin, I was a boy of adventure in my prime days. Meaning, before my mother died and I was shipped off to my grandmother's. My father was out of the picture, never truly apart of it. But my grandmother, yes my grandmother was the only other figure in my life aside from my mother.
I never truly understood why until my later days, but they both were single mothers. But they had each other and me, so when it came down to it, there was a little man and two woman.
But, in my prime days, my mother encouraged to be an adventurer. After all, it was her who sparked that within my spirit, with all those stories she spun with a snap of her finger and the movement of her lips. You see, my mother would've been a great storyteller, a bestseller as most call it.
She was the greatest storyteller in my eyes, and will forever be. Even compared to the ones rising nowadays.
So, I often wondered around the small town we lived in, and over the hills and into the river. To me, the river was the ocean, and it always will be in my memories. Those small hills I climbed over where mountains, where at the top I could see for miles and miles. The journey from the house to the river seemed like the biggest one to ever walk, like running around the world.
Whereas, in reality, it only took about fifteen minutes with my small legs.
You're probably wondering what this has to do with this so called Willow's Nook. Well, it doesn't. At least, in no way I can actually describe at this point in my life, as a little six year old boy.
Now, fast forward to the day my mother died. It wasn't a sad one, of her just collapsing after being healthy. But it wasn't one that had been going on for years.
No, my mother told me in advance. Every single fucking night, and I never even knew. I never knew until I pieced together that the story she told me had everything to do with the place I later found.
You probably want to hear the story. Well, I'll get to that later on, if ever.
The gist of it was the fact that a trapped bird was being kept in a small cage with a bunch of demons that teased it and tormented it. Then, one day, a small demon was bullied and took comfort in this bird. One day, the small demon saw how the bird was like him, except the bird had the opportunity of being free. So, one day, this small demon opened the cage door and the bird stayed.
Then, everyday the small demon opened the cage door after talking to the bird. Everyday, the small demon grew larger and larger, until he was so large he never got bullied anymore. The bird, now seeing he no longer needed a friend, flew away after that.
Later, the demon found the bird again. It was older and prettier, but he was a demon. He followed his instincts and trapped the bird.
Until one day, the bird got free and flew away to a place no demon could be. A secret spot within a tree.
So you see, my mother was that bird. The small demon was my father, when they both were kids. Or maybe another man in her life that scarred her, I never got to ask. I never did.
The secret spot of the tree was Willow's Nook.
Now, you're probably wondering what I found in Willow's Nook, as for I described the story and my adventurous self. But no, I have a little more to tell you.
At first, I hated myself for her killing herself. I hated myself for her leaving me on her free will, and I often thought I was that small demon, growing older and older and older to the point I would trap her, and she wanted to get away before it got to that point. I know different now, at least I hope, but that's how I was until I was a lanky sixteen year old.
That was when my grandmother told me to stop hating myself and start doing something productive. So, I started to wander again.
I saw the story before my eyes. I saw the trail of the tigers, blooming on their tail to the sun, and I saw the giants that offered shelter from the demons. I saw the mirror that the bird looked in and saw a lovely spirit, and I was convinced this was the tree.
I couldn't find the secret spot for the longest of times. Right up until I decided it was not on the trunk of the tree, but higher up. By now I was still lanky and pretty much weighed no more than what my mother probably weighed at this point. So, I decided to climb the thin but somewhat sturdy branches until I found the little hole.
Let me tell you, it took me a lot of climbing each day to just see where the hole was, let alone reach it. Apparently, my mother weighed next to nothing, that's how high this hole was.
Now, here is the point in this story where I told you what I found in this hole.
In the Willow's Nook, I did not find my mother. I did not find a bird either.
I found letters.
