Friday, June 15, 2012
Story: Crooked Tree
I'm doing another Flash Fiction challenge by Chuck Wendig. This story totally evolved from what I had first imagined, but I really like where it went and I hope you like it too.
Edit: Added the picture hosted on Chuck's site. FYI, the image is Copyright Chuck Wendig and I claim no rights to the image.
My mother always tells me not to play by the crooked tree, but I can't help myself. I think that the tree is very interesting to look at and fun to play around and climb on. She says that the tree is cursed and I don't know what she means by that, but I'm sure that the tree means well.
I know that the tree is dying, but every spring it still grows new leaves and last year a bird had a nest in it. My father says that the tree will fall all the way down soon. That makes me sad. I will miss the tree when it's gone. The tree is my best friend.
My mother won't go near the tree and refuses to let my father mow that part of the backyard. She says that the tree is on the edge of our property anyway, so it's fine that the grass is long there. I like the long grass and shrubs that grow near the tree. Sometimes I hide in them when I feel like being alone. My mother is always very cross with me when she finds me hiding from her there.
My father sometimes tries to get mother to let him cut down the tree. He says that the bad memories will go with the tree. I don't know what bad memories they are talking about, I only ever remember the tree fondly. She always refuses, but I don't really know why. If I didn't like the tree as much as she doesn't, I would let my father take it away. I'm always happier when he takes the darkness away at night. I don't like the darkness and he's happy to make it go away for me. My mother might be happier if she let my father take the tree away.
I'm happy that the tree is still there. I often wonder why the tree is so crooked, none of the other trees are crooked like that one. I asked my father about why it was crooked. He looked very sad and said that something bad happened ten years ago. I wonder why he is so sad, but I don't ask him about it because I don't like it when people are sad. I gave him a big hug and that made him happy again.
Yesterday, I heard my parents talking about the tree when they thought I wasn't listening. They were talking about a ten year old boy named Bobby who got hurt when the tree became crooked. I felt sad for that boy and wondered if I knew him. My name is Bobby and it would be nice to know another boy named Bobby. Maybe he could play with me and my crooked tree.