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Flash Write: The Five Trees

Writer's picture: A.A.

One tree held a piece of the sun. Small and golden, it had a trunk circled with spirals that seemed like speckles of golden dust.

One tree held a piece of the sky. Leaves a snowy white and gentle like clouds grew upward, pointing to the heavens.

One tree held a piece of the dark. The bark was as black as the night and eerie howls seemed to float around it like a foreboding aura.

One tree held a piece of a rainbow. Shining up all around the roots were spurts of vibrant colors, shimmering like radiant gems.

And one tree held a piece of her heart. The bark was a swirled mixture of light and dark, good and evil, right and wrong. All the conflicted in betweens that defined her very soul. It was the strongest of the trees. It was a refuge for those who needed a hiding place. She stored her heart inside the tree for fear of taking it with her and having it smashed. Shattered like a frail piece of pottery, which, she supposed, was exactly what hearts were. Every night she visited it, came to whisper a goodnight. the trees enjoyed her company and their branches song to her.

One night, after a particularly long, exhausting day, she snuck into the Cave of Whispers, appropriately named for the soft trails of murmurs caused by the howling wind. The trees sat, waiting for her, just as they always did. Their branches straightened when she came into view and her name floated through the air, resulting between their leaves. "Rhea, Rhea, Rhea..."

Rhea pushed her hood down and breathed in the air, musty, but holding just the trance of honeysuckle. Her pale, dry lips twisted up into a smile.

"Hello, my friends," she greeted, walking slowly by each tree. Her hand brushed against the trunk of each one. Sun felt warm under her finger tips. Sky was a pleasant shade of baby blue. Dark sent a chill down her spine. Rainbow made her feel at home. And Her Heart, as usual, made her feel lonely and afraid. Would that ever change, she wondered.

Her heart pulsed right in the center of the tree bark. Threads of blush pink snaked out from the heart, which was the size of a fist and shaped like the smushed bulb of a flower. Around it was a faint glowing it beat in a monotone pattern. Timidly, Rhea stretched her hand out to it. Her long fingers hovered a hairsbreadth away. Did she honestly want to touch her heart? Nothing good ever came when she did. Yes, direct contact gave her answers. But she didn't have to like them. Although some nights, the hollow space in her chest just felt so incredibly empty that she just had to touch it. Sometimes risking the pain was worth it. Rhea pressed her entire hand up against it.

The agony brought tears to her nearly black eyes. She was suddenly back in her six-year-old body, holding a hand out to her mother as they skipped away from their village. But her mother's face hadn't been looking right for a few days. Dark half-moons rimmed the underside of her pale blue eyes. Her chocolate hair hadn't been washed in days and Rhea noticed that her mother's typical curls were really more of tangles.

"Let's go, Mama!" Rhea laughed.

Her mother bent down and pressed a kiss on Rhea's mocha–colored cheek. "My mind tells me to go no further, Biscuit."

Rhea frowned. "What do you mean? Aren't we playing Fairies still?"

Sadly, her mother shook her head and untangled her fingers from Rhea's. "No, Biscuit. It's time for the games to end."

"End?"

That's when a group of grown men entered the scene. They all held purple rods with glowing orbs perched on the top. The two men in front of the pack grabbed Rhea's mother by the arms. A man behind her swung his rod and Rhea's mother gasped. Her blue eyes rolled into her head and a scream died in her throat. Rhea clenched her small fists and let out a scream of rage, rising up inside her. With a powerful force she threw herself at the man. A tall, brutish man blocked her attack and carried her away. Rhea beat him with her fists and yelled. "MAMA! WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER? MAMA!"

She waited for her mother to lift her beautiful head and call her "Biscuit". She waited for a smile of reassurance.

But she didn't get one. Instead, she watched the men drag her mother away. It was one terrible memory in a collection of many. One reason why Rhea had hidden her heart away. She'd never seen her mother after that.

Rhea pulled away and fell backwards, tears dazzling her eyes. She felt them leak down her face and imagined them washing away every sign of heartbreak she'd ever felt in her life.

The trees stood with her. The trees understood.

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