“If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it still make a sound?” She had heard this question multiple times throughout her life but she had never learned the answer. She assumed that the tree did in fact make a sound, but she was not positive. The sound must exist of course-for the tree is still a tree, and the action still takes place. Perhaps she was the tree, and she was falling but no one was around to stop her.
These were odd thoughts. It was even odder that these thoughts were occurring within the church service. She was however an odd girl- in her mind these thoughts were in everyday occurrence.
She was a paradox. Many believed her to be misguided but perhaps she was just misunderstood. She found beauty within the tragic and comfort within words. No one understood her being and they could not fathom the care she had for the one she loved. This caused her to distance herself further from the world in which she lived in. She was detached from her life and she found herself to be a whisper of the being she had once inhabited. Maybe that was why she clung to him so harshly. For he was an example of her essence and he understood her like no other.
Her parents did not understand him or her obsession with him. She remembered when she introduced him to her parents. She had described him so carefully and they seemed to be enchanted by her words. They fell in love with the way she described him- his laugh, the words by which he displayed himself, the color of his eyes, and the person he brought out in her. They fell in love with his kindness and gentleness- the way he understood the world. Yet when she presented him physically, they laughed. When recognition hit they seemed disturbed and shocked. She did not understand why they did not see what she did, or why they did not care to converse with him like she did.
She could not comprehend why no one else could see his beauty- for he was in all forms, perfection. He fit her immaculately. His personality matched hers and his physical appearance matched her dreams. He was flawless, crafted more perfectly than any character she could ever create. He understood her worries, and the complexity of her mind. He was-
“Darling, wake up.”
A mumble escaped her lips in response.
“Now. I’m serious. You’re so disrespectful. Did you even listen to the sermon? I swear the second we get home-“ The mother stopped when she realized her daughter was no longer paying attention.
Her daughter was focused on the black notebook in her lap. She was scribbling viciously and she held a great intensity in her eyes. The Church was large and full of people and the noise was quite overwhelming. The mother looked around and realized that the only row with space in it was theirs. The mother knew why of course. Her teenaged daughter was odd and unlike the other girls. She believed in the impossible and seemed to have conversations with her notebook- the notebook that never left her side. That cursed notebook, filled with secrets and lies. The mother was curious. She was curious of her child’s well being, and curious as to whether she still was in love with the wretched ‘boy’ that plagued her daughter’s mind.
This boy that her daughter spoke of so fondly was unnecessary. He was just another wall that drove her daughter away from the world. The Church members claimed she was crazy, that she was much too different and much too dangerous.
“They’re wrong though,” the mother whispered, trying to reassure herself. “She’s just like all the other girls. She’s just too smart for her own good”.
The girl looked up at her mother, her dark eyes shining with a light that was all too familiar.
“He said he loved me, Mom. Isn’t that sweet? Can’t he come over?”
The mother nodded, choking back the words that threatened to break their way out of her throat. She grasped her daughter’s free hand and allowed the ‘boy’ to hold her daughter’s right hand.
