The Waking Tree

She knows she killed a girl. She knows this tree will swallow her up forever. And she knows that if she is gone, there is a chance that her mistakes will go with her.

"Shadows, shadows

Shadows and darkness

In a forest of silence

Not far from here

If you ever feel lonely

If you ever feel silent

Like maybe you may not belong …

Remember me

Whispers the tree

If you ever want to be lost in my dreams

Escape from the world

In my mystical whirl

Of branches, leaves, and beautiful things

A dream so sweet

My special treat

For you… from the dreaming tree

Let’s get away from here,

And disappear

And you will only be a whisper in somebody’s ear

And fade away

Like night to day

And find yourself in an enchanting place

…No where" -The King

. . .

I wake up. It’s blurry at first- everything’s grey.

It’s black and white like an old photograph, still and silent, lifeless but real.  It’s quiet - quiet in the sort of way that’s beautiful. I’ve never heard quiet before. At night I could hear the cars rushing by or the rain on my window. This quiet is still. Comforting.

I’m laying on my side on something soft. Everything begins to  slowly come into focus. I’m in a white room, on some sort of vintage wooden bed with chipped, snow colored paint. Soft pillows are under me. Lacey. In the corner of the room, theres a long window and an antique wooden bench propped up by the wall next to it. A stack of books is piled up on the corner of the bench.

Ok.

The old Juliet Zamora would be having a panic attack. The one before the poetry. The one before the crash. The Juliet who thought she knew absolutely everything- but really she only knew about everything fake- so nothing. The Juliet who was sure she was queen- before she looked up and realized she was wearing a plastic crown.

But now, now it’s Ok. I like this. It’s like the end to a grimm brothers fairytale. It’s twisted. It’s weird. It’s original. I don’t care at all. I’m calm.

All of the sudden I hear a knock on the door. “Knock Knock” Two quiet little taps. No foot steps. No words.

It’s so familiar. And then I’m lost in my mind- flung back in that little room on top of New York.

“Jules?”

No. Not now. Not yet.

“I have some breakfast for you on the table. Dr. Harrison will be here in an hour, sweetie.”

I close my eyes tighter.

“Juliet?”

I have to say something.

“I’m awake.”

Silence. She thinks I’m a freak. I know she does. Everyone does.

“Ok, hon. Take your time. Theres no rush.”

I should hear her walking away now.

But it’s dead silent.

“I’m Ok.” It’s strained. It’s such a lie. She knows it.

“I know you are sweetie.” All we ever do is lie.

One minute ticks by. I count. Then two. Two and 32 seconds.

Footsteps.

Freaking finally.

I dont need a babysitter. I don’t need a shrink, either. I need space to breathe. I need time. Does no one get that? I pull the covers over my face. Close my eyes. Breathe a while.

“Juliet!”

I sigh.

“Half an hour until Dr. Harrison gets here!”

She says it in a fake cheery voice filled with lies. Lies lies lies. She’s  more stressed about it than I am. I’m already wondering what I’m going to say- what lies I’m going to have to come up with. Or maybe I just won’t say anything. Shut her out. Shut out this whole dang world. Get lost in my mind. Get far away from here.

That’s why I moved from Buffalo. I was so closed in. I needed to get out of there, I was trapped. After the crash everyone looked at me weird. People I’d never seen before.

I told my mom. I told her how much I hated that town. How much I hated my school- myself- my life. She cried. She took it hard - personal. Like somehow it was her fault.

I told her I needed to get the heck out of there. It didn’t have anything to do with her. The next day I was on a train to New York. Apparently my Dad had a sister - Amanda. I never heard of her before but my Mom said she would welcome me. I didn’t stop to think. I just started packing.

She told me I should stay- think of it as a clean slate. Maybe I could. But could everyone else? No. I’m out of there. But I’m still trapped. I thought I could get lost in all the people. In all the streets. Fresh and new. But it’s not like I’m in the river of New Yorkers. It’s like the New Yorkers are a river and I’m a stone- being pushed along by them all, but I’m not one of them. At least they’re making me smooth.

New York isn’t perfect- but its so much better than Buffalo. The way people looked at me like I was some beast-  when I looked in the mirror I started to see what they were seeing. I couldn’t take it anymore.

Cars rush by, seventeen stories below. Honking. People. People people people. Why are people so darn important. Why do I have to be one? Right after the crash I always imagined I was a snowflake, a raindrop or something like that. Falling. Watching. Helpless. Beautiful.

“Juliet!?”

Yep. She’s paniking.

“15 minutes!”

I got it, Amanda. Leave me alone.

I would say that if she wasn’t so nice. She tries- really. On days she has to work early I wake up to find a muffin, coffee and note on the table, usually saying something like, “I’ll be back at four!”  Sometimes she even writes down “cool places to go.” Meusams, attractions, blah blah blah. The only place I’ve gone so far was the library down the block. Pick up some poetry. Mope around up here in the apartment some more. Take a walk. Another. Look at the buildings. The sky. Ignore the desperate calls from Mom. From Dave.

Dave.

My Mom’s boyfriend. I met him my sophomore year in high school. That fake smile. Those fake gifts. Fake fake fake. Calls with fake concern to impress Mom. “Juliet! How ARE you? How is the big city? It’s so different not having you around! We all miss you SO SO much, Juliet!” I can almost hear Mom smiling in the back ground.

I usually just sigh, “I’m fine.” It’s such a habit now. I’m FINE. I’m not good. I’m not dead. I’m fine, ok?

“KNOCK KNOCK!”

“Julie! Five Minutes!”

She pokes her head in cautiously like there’s a ticking bomb inside.

I need to pretend to be a normal person for just a second. For Amanda.

I muster up all the fakeness I have left in me and put on a show.

“Oh my gosh! Sorry, Amanda, I must have drifted off! I’ll be ready if I hurry though, no worries.” They’re like the lines to a little kid show. So far from reality. Who says that? Especially in that tone? What if she thinks I’m mocking her?

She buys it. That or plays along.

“Oh, it’s fine! Just hurry, sweetie! I’ll make her some coffee to buy you some time.” She winks, like we’re friends or something.

She closes the door, and I pull on the jeans from yesterday and dig around for a sweater. I honestly don’t care anymore.

I finger comb my hair and put it back in a ponytail.

I stare at that face in the mirror. A grim girl, like the one from an old fairytale. Like one of cinderella’s step sisters. So careless. So mean. Hah, I should have known. You can’t be the evil step sister and expect to get a happily ever after. I hope Cinderella got one. I hope she’s up there with a smile on her face and jewels all around her. Cursing me. I deserve it.

“Dr. Harrison here!”

Yipee. Hip-hip freaking hooray.

So I walk out of the room coming up with a plan. What story I’m going to make up to make myself look like I might actually not be a completely broken person. Maybe I’ll say her parents and I are close friends. We email weekly. We all went to the funeral together. We all sit together by their fireplace and cry as one. They showed me pictures. Like the whole thing came to a beautiful end.

But that would be a lie. It was nothing like that.

And then Dr. Harrison is sitting there on the couch with an Apple laptop and a cup of coffee.

“I have to head to work, Juliet. I’ll be back at five or so.” Amanda smiles at me as she rushes out the door. “Thanks again, Dr. Harrison!” She tosses over her shoulder before she closes to the door.

Thanks for what? Doing her job? Coming and talking with this freak that lives in her house? All of the above?

She looks up from her computer. Her eyes are warm, like tea on a cold winter day, but she has a straight face.

“I want you to be honest with me, Juliet.” She begins. It catches me off guard.

“Ok.” is all I can say, as I take a seat on a squeaky wooden chair by the window.

She sighs.

“Amanda told me what happened. She told me it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. You were at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Im quiet. What am I supposed to say? Yep, Dr.H, I am one unlucky duck, aren’t I?!

Hah.  

“Can you tell me what happened, Juliet? From your point of view?”

“I killed a girl.”

It’s quiet. She taps down a word or two on her laptop.

“With details?”

“Thats it. Details don’t matter. She’s gone. Because of me. So yeah. It’s my fault.”

Except theres so many details.

Dr. Harrison looks me in the eye.

“Juliet, I want you to  tell me what happened. I can tell you have never told anyone what happened before. Everyone knew from the news, from stories.  But I want it told from the person that was there. I want you to tell me the truth.”

She wants the truth. She wants honesty. Well what do I have to lose? My last little drop of dignity? Well heres a girl that thought she ruled the world four months ago and now  who’s now sitting on her aunts creaky wooden chair with her shrink.

Honestly, I don’t have anything to lose.

“Juliet?”

Here goes.

“Do you not want to say?”

Deep breath.

“Jul-”

“It was the week before homecoming. I remember - the trees were all orange red and brown. I had an F in math. I didn’t care. I thought school was a joke.”

I laugh. What a bitter sound.

“I was a joke. I found this dress online - it was red, sleeveless- short. I had black boots that would match. I thought it was perfect. Meant to be. It was 125 bucks. I remember - I printed it out in color and put it on the front of my binder. Told all my friends it was going to wear it to homecoming. They all loved it - or pretended to at least. I don’t know. All my friends were pretenders.”

Dr. Harrison is hammering away at her keyboard.

“What do you mean,” She asks without looking up from the screen, “by all your friends were ‘pretenders’? ”

“They all pretended to like me. To like each other. They laughed at my jokes. When I was mean to someone they all joined in. When I said I hated something they all did too. When I loved something, they all said it was to die for. Who knows what they actually thought.”

“If you knew they just agreed with whatever you said, why were you friends with them?” She asks.

“I didn’t know then.”

“When did you find out? How?”

“After the crash. They didn’t talk to me. They found a new leader. Real friends stick together.”

She clicks something on her computer.

What the heck is she doing?

“Go on.”

“So I told my Mom I needed the dress. I didn’t even ask. She usually gave me what I wanted. She reminded me about the F. I freaked. Said she never gave me anything. Said I was good in school- said the teacher sucked. She said if I got it up to a C by before homecoming she’d think about it. I thought my life sucked.”

Dr. Harrison looks at me with warm eyes. For a second I’m tempted to hug her. Cry on her shoulder. Sob. It’s been so long since I’ve had a hug - since I’ve cried.

“So I grabbed the keys- slammed the door. In Buffalo it’s easy to find a long, deserted country road. I found one three miles from home, I put the top down on the convertible. Flew down the street.”

My voice cracks. My throat choked up. Something wet on my cheek. Stupid tear.

“Go on, Juliet.” Her voice is soft.

“I didn’t see her.” I squeak.

Another tear. Than another.

My hands are shaking. My face is wet. All the sudden everything hurts.

I can’t.

Dr. Harrison saves me.

“Apparently you had the right of way. Her parents should have told her to stop.”

Apparently deserted country roads aren’t always deserted.

“All I saw was golden curls. A pink bike.”

I swallow. Realize my breakfast from Amanda is still on the table. A krispy Kreme doughnut. Coffee. I grab the cup and chug it down. It’s cold. bitter. Reminds me of my life.

Dr. Harrison takes a sip from hers.

“I slammed on the brakes.”

A shaky breath. Let it out slow.

“Too late.”

Dr. Harrison sighs. “Tough things happen, Juliet. Life isn’t fair. For anyone.”

“I jumped out of the car.” My voice is high now. Unreal.

“And there she was. The bike all bent. The white convertible had red spots. Parents running. Her mom dropping next to her daughter shaking. Sobbing.

“What about the child’s father?”

I shudder. Adrian.

“He looked at his dead daughter. Then he looked at me, like I was the devil or something. Maybe I was. Am. I don’t know. I realized that lives are so precious. Beautiful. And I realized how stupid I’d been- picking on Mindy Abernathy at school. Sneering at her thrift shop clothes. Spreading rumors about Abbie Smith doing drugs. When Jane Foster’s drunk Dad came into school on a toy donkey- yelling at her outside the classroom. When she came a week later- the things I said to her- what we all said to her…

“I deserved it. And so much more.”

“Deserved what?”

Curious eyes.

“It was so weird. Cindy was dying- dead on the ground. Her Mom next to her with arms around her.

“Is Cindy the little girl’s name?”

My heart lurches.

“Yes.”

But her father- I don’t know- he started yelling at me. Screaming. Sobbing. I just stood there. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t concentrate on what he was saying- on what was going on. I heard things like “how can you live with your self… what have you done… what were you thinking… what is wrong with you…”

I take a bite of the doughnut. It’s so bland.

“I spent a month and a half at home. In my room. Staring out the window. In the mirror. My Mom actually bought me the dress three weeks later when I wasn’t talking. Like that would fix everything. Like that was the problem.” I roll my eyes and ten more tears slip out.

“I went to school one day. No one said a word to me. Not one. I wasn’t queen of the school anymore. Maybe I never was. I got a note from the counselor telling me to go down to her office. I did. She tried to get me to talk. I just stared out the window. Didn’t say a word. I think I scared her. Everyone. So I went home. Said I couldn’t take it. I spent more time at home. Tried school again a while later. It was the same- but worse. People looked at me like I was some sort of monster. It scared me. I needed to get away from there- from everyone.”

“So you came here?”

“So I came here.”

She puts her computer to the side and leans towards me. Serious.

“Can I ask you a question, Juliet?”

I nod.

“Have you ever thought about- considered… ending your life?”

I’m quiet.

“How would that fix anything? Then I would have killed two people.”

“Thats true. But people- people in situations as difficult as yours usually can’t take it. You’re strong, Juliet.”

But I remember my first night at Amanda’s. We were so high up. New York wasn’t how I thought it would be. You can’t run away from your problems. I opened the window. Clicked open the screen and sat there on the ledge, my feet dangling over- the world underneath me. I thought how easy it would be to just slip off- fly. I thought maybe you couldn’t run away from your problems- but you could fly away from them. I took off a bracelet and tied a piece of paper around it, saying “should I?” I dropped it. It was so beautiful. It fell and was peaceful. I think I saw someone pick it up- a man, mid thirties. Coming home from work.

All of the sudden I panicked. I didn’t know what I had done. What if he called the cops? Got hundreds of people below me screaming at me not to? I’d have to go to some rehab. Take pills. Have everyone think I was more of a freak. But he looked up. Maybe he saw me. I think he shook his head. It looked like it. Then he walked away. That was it.

I climbed out of the window and went to bed. And never thought about jumping again.

*  *  *

Here I am back in the white room in the middle of nothingness. I walk out of the door and down a long hallway, to a fancy room with a chandelier and a grand piano. There’s warm tea on the table- but there’s no body here. I can feel the aloneness around me. There was no hand behind the knocks. I drink the tea. It’s warm for a second- but then I feel just like I did. My throat goes back to lukewarm a moment later- but the tea is steaming. I jug the whole thing down- something that would normally burn my tongue for a week. But it burns for a moment- and the I feel completely normal again.

Theres a door to my left. There’s snow outside- a forest. It’s lovely dark and deep. It reminds me of the poem by Robert Frost. It’s cold for a moment- but then I’m lukewarm again. It’s annoying. I pinch myself on my arm. Ouch. Ouch for a split second. And then I’m fine. No red mark.

I walk through the forest for a while. It’s beautiful- but all the trees are alike. They’re all tall with wide branches. They’re each the same tree it looks like. Like God took a cookie cutter and made hundreds of the same perfect pine. I look behind me. No footsteps. Curiouser and Curiouser. Finally I get to a lake iced over. I lay on it. Hard cold. Then nothing.

“Getting a little annoyed?” A voice.

I look over my shoulder. A young man with dark brown hair in his eyes.

“No.”

“This is what you wanted- isn’t it?”

“I suppose.” I hate this guy already. I don’t know who he is- but he seems amused by me.

“Already bored?”

“Not yet.”

“Well get used to being bored.”

“I’m not bored.” I demand.

He chuckles.

“So why did you want to disappear?”

“Because I wanted an ending to my story.”

“Explain.”

“No.”

He smiles. Theres something about it thats evil.

“Are you happy you’re here?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“You’re making this hard for me. I’m just going to tell you and leave you alone.”

He acts annoyed but looks pleased.

“Do you have any idea whats going on, Juliet?”

“No.”

“Do you want me to  tell you?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

And I try. I think back to after Dr. Harrison left the apartment. We decided it was time for me to move on. Amanda and I found a high school in the area. I made a friend or two. I took poetry classes and read poetry after school. It was the only thing keeping me going. When the year was over we had this huge party at Central Park. We put lights on the trees. We put poems on their trunks. It was so beautiful. Girls ran around in dresses and boys in Tuxedos. I walked around reading the poems. I knew some of them. I knew all the authors at least. I read and read deeper and deeper into the forest. And then there was one left- farthest away from the party. I could barely hear the music and the people from where I was. A poem on a huge tree- filled with lights. I read it.

Disappear into darkness

Wake with me

To feel no stress

In the room you will see

This place has harmony

But do not say

It cannot be

Follow the way

Far from the tree

He will find you

Very soon

Vengeance as big as the moon

Never to wake

Or to be found

The king will rise up

Ashes on the ground

Then you will see

What is in the tree

A tree of darkness

For you and me

It’s not like I wanted to disappear all my life- it just seemed like the perfect twisted ending to a twisted story. Wherever I went- I felt like poor little Cindy went with me. From Buffalo to New York. From Amanda’s to school. But disappearing into a tree of vengeance- it seemed perfect for me. So I climbed up- branch by branch- the lights all around me. Just me and the forest and the words- the promise. The ending.  And I fell asleep there. And I woke up here. It’s like a dream. Maybe not a dream come true- but a bizarre dream that you can’t make since of- its so far from reality- but in a way it’s oddly beautiful.

And in this place- wherever I am- nothing changes. Everything is the same. You are. The world is. If you walk across the snow you won’t see your foot steps.

“Who are you?” I ask.

I’m still laying on the ice.

He lays down beside me.

Tells me a story.

Something about him asking a witch to become great and powerful, but the more powerful he got the more people forgot him. He killed his one and only son and demanded the witch make him as young as he- and she granted his wish- but nobody knew who he was- no one remembered he was the feared king at all. So he made this tree- this world I suppose for people who wanted to disappear.

It reminds me of something. Something familiar. The more popular I got at Buffalo High, the more people feared me as I walked down the halls with a sort of power that could make people sink to the ground or rise to the sky- the less I really mattered. Look at me. Here I am in this place- away. It’s better being here than at a gas station- or something like that. That’s where I would have ended up.

The more we want- the less we will be remembered. All of the sudden I’m jealous- jealous of Mindy Abernathy and her thrift shop clothes. She had that friend- Emma Holland. She looked at me and knew she was so much better than me- that Mindy was. She looked at me like I was a piece of dirt on the floor. She knew I would be nothing someday.

Hah.

Thats ironic, isn’t it.

Look at me. I disappeared. I am nothing.

Maybe years have passed. Maybe Mindy and Emma are the fashion designers- politicians- who the heck knows what.

Why is power so important. Making people feel like nothing so you can feel like everything. I should have known. Karma is real. God- I should have been more careful. Lives are so precious, aren’t they? They’re so easy to ruin- to end.

Then he asks me for my story.

I tell it.

Author's Note

the assignment was to write an imaginative story. i kinda liked it. juliets character feels unreal to me, but eyy. its art. :) leave comments! id love to here from ya.