The Fire

A match strikes the side of it's box. small is the light it gives, before being gently tossed onto the newsprint under the cedar fuel. Soon the small flame grows brighter as the fiery tongues licked hungrily at the branches, consuming it, making it part of it's dance.

Breathing in you are comforted by the smoke. It reminds you of a time when things were simple, life was easier, and you needn't worry about the little things.

Sighing as you force yourself back to the harsh reality of the present as you hear the click of a revolver behind you. "Where are they?" Your captor asks.

"Up your ass and around the corner." Sarcasm and exasperation rolling off your tongue. "Real jokester we've got here. Where are they?" Their tone more stern as they shove the barrel against the back of your skull. "I wish I knew." You replied simply and then silence.

Soon, the pressure is gone as your captor moves to crouch opposite to you, on the other side of the fire. "They left you?" Nodding as they sigh at your non-verbal conformation. It is only now you realize the the tears falling from your eyes while remembering waking up, finding your companions, steed and supplies gone.

"Do you want revenge?" They asked. "No, I only want peace." You once again in a monotone voice. Those were almost your last words, you knew it and so did they. A shot rings out, birds scatter, deer take off, and rabbits run.

Everything spooks at the noise and your captor slowly puts out the fire you lit, as the sun peeks over the horizon, signalling a new day. Finally finding peace as your senses leave you and your soul is leaving it's flesh cage to wander the forest in which it was set free.

"Thank you" you whispered as your final breath left your lungs. Walking over and gently closing your eyes for you, your captor smiles sadly and said "Don't thank me for something that fate had decided would happen."

And then, just as soon as is started, it ends. You wake up, left with more questions than answers. "What a weird dream." You thought aloud. As you stretch you notice the revolver in it's holster on your thigh, the same that ended your life just moments ago. The realization hits you hard, you killed your past self.

Feeling both light hearted and shoulder burdened at this realization you sigh. Not quite ready to get out from under the the tree and start your day, but you do.

Although the dream will fade, the feeling you woke with will remain, and with that you leave the feeling of old at the tree and start your journey again. Hoping never to find yourself under that willow once more.