With force and pain, the tree drew closer and screamed, far enough that only the roots trembled and loud enough that only the air could hear. The pressure wrapped so tightly made it difficult for the tree to breath, to see anything but its death again; yet spiraling through the crevices of anguish was a warm trickle of blood, comfort that something so fresh and alive existed. Flashes of its memory surged through every root’s end and numbed them back into feeling. As the girl fell asleep, her weight would thrust the tree into cracking out their weakest pieces and rebuilding its strength. When she awoke, she pulled some of stumps from the earth and patched them over with new land so that she could be more comfortable. Meanwhile, the forest’s hope grew as wide as its smile could hold, a feeling, in its dream, so tangible. Although the trees could barely hold themselves together, the warmth of being something, becoming something was overwhelming.
The girl roamed from tree to tree until all secrets of the forest were unleashed into a frenzy of confusion, comfort, pain, and peace. But like the others, with a stride full of relief and contentment, she left the forest. She would never be able to realize or understand the immense damage, healing, neglect, love, uncertainty, and trust that the forest had felt for her. With fear, hope and contempt, they turned themselves inward and rooted up a wall with the energy she had