Undecided

Daydream and Nightmare

I didn't ask for this life. I certainly didn't plan it, it was just a big mistake, or so I thought. I mean, when a half man half goat comes into your life with a big stick, some hat hair, and a goat tee that looks like a spearhead, raving on about ancient Greek gods, you tend to question the fates. I know I did.

Yup, that's me. Your average teen, just sitting there on the swings, waiting for something exciting to happen. I dreamed of life and love like any sixteen year old girl. Almost seventeen, and never been kissed. But it had to happen soon.

I swung higher and higher, the cool June air blowing through my hair. I was on a child's swing set, so it rocked when I went too high.

I waited for the swing to slow to a gentler pace, and jumped off, landing in the sand that lay in a thin layer over the hard dirt below. I stood up, dusted myself off, and walked toward the chain link fence that separated me from the creek bed below. I came to the gate, ignored the lock, and climbed over.

It was against the rules to go down near the creek, but nobody ever listened to them. You could see evidence of children's adventures scattered all over. The sand was soft here, and the kids just couldn't resist soft sand. It ended up all over in their hair, and the parents didn't need to look far to see the trail of sand that followed the little ones wherever they went.

I passed the countless buckets and shovels that littered the small beach, and walked downstream. I followed the steady trickle of the creek, hopping over pieces of driftwood from the most recent flood. I came to a spot in the creek where some rocks had been laid down by some of the older kids as a way of getting to the opposite bank without getting wet. I balanced on them, jumping from one to the other. The moon began to peak over the tall, rocky hill that towered above the little town I was from. The moon was nearly full, and its glow provided enough light to safely pick around the larger rocks with.

The area on the far side of the creek bed was saved for the older kids. The teenagers had all come together to make a haphazard shack sort of thing away from the prying eyes of the parents, though the adults did put two and two together when old boards began to mysteriously clean themselves out of the dumping field.

I passed the shack and walked down the bank a little more. I came to an old tree. It was still miraculously alive, despite the constant flooding that seemed to go through the old washout. It, unlike the teen shack, was not on high ground. Still, it managed to survive. I assumed it was due to its deep roots.

I journeyed up the base of the tree with the help of an old rope ladder. I climbed. The tree was unlike any of the other trees in the area. It hadn't grown naturally. It was most certainly planted, and how it had survived this long, I had no idea.

I was pretty sure the tree was a mulberry tree, but there was no real way to confirm it. I climbed higher and higher.

The creek gurgled gently as it passed over stones in its path. It was a peaceful sound that could be heard from my perch in the giant tree. I stretched out in the nest of branches and wings and leaves that made my resting spot. I could see the stars twinkling through gaps in the tree's canopy, and I felt more peaceful than I ever had. My mind began to conjure up impossible scenarios, each more far fetched than the last. I began to dream of a boy in the small town that rested just off of the opposite bank. He walked with me in my dream, on a long path that stretched up and around the town. The covered walkway intertwined delicately at the top.

We talked for a long while about things long gone. We laughed, we fell silent, and we had a lovely time.

After a long while, we came to a small bridge that stretched over a small brook. The little stream babbled merrily as it emptied into the nearby pond.