塵風之夜 Dust Wind's Night

Outside my window, there was a tree, a very ordinary tree. It had a very ordinary tree trunk, which was neither thick nor thin. It had very ordinary branches, which were neither leafy nor leafless. It had very ordinary leaves, which were neither shriveling nor thriving. It was a tree that was commonly seen in the park, by the sidewalk, in the garden, and even outside of another person’s window. Even though there was nothing unique or distinctive about this tree, it was different for me. It was special, very special.

During my years studying in elementary school, I would not say I was the most outgoing person, nor would I say that I was one of the famous ones or one of the leaders in the school. I was the complete opposite. I was the anonymous. I was the quiet one. I was the ghost. Due to the fact that I felt miserable about myself easily and lacked the skills of socializing, nobody really paid any attention to me, much less than talking to me. Thus, I became the ghost of my elementary, the Silent Legend as they called me. Luckily, nobody bullied me at school or they just did not even know that I existed.

Anyways, life was not the most exciting thing for me at that time. School life especially, was exceptionally boring. Daily school routine goes like this: wake up; go to school; listen to teacher talking on and on; recess; teacher talking again; lunch; teacher talking again; and then home. Boring? Yes. Exciting? No. So, to prevent myself from being devoured by a monster called boredom, I started to observe the tree, the ordinary tree outside of my window.

As days and months go by, I found out that the tree adopted a different appearance and behaviour as each season passed by. When Spring came and spread life across the land, the tree would sway happily from side to side as if it was welcoming Spring. As Summer approached and the temperature was at its highest, the leaves would gather as if shrouding the tree from the searing sunlight. When Fall rested upon the land and the leaves danced away with the wind, the tree bowed forward as if it was sad about the leaves leaving. As Winter crashed angrily into the world and armies of snowflakes dyed the world white, the tree stood there motionlessly as if it was hibernating through the cold, harsh season.

To me, the tree had emotions. To me, the tree was not just a tree, it was a person. No, not it. HE. He was a person. He was a person who knew my loneliness; he was a person who would be by my side and listen to my stories; he was a person who would be my best friend. And so we did. We became best friend. Everyday I would rush home after school. Everyday I would be excited to see his new behaviour or appearance. Everyday I would tell him new stories about school, about me. Everyday no longer was a boring routine but an exciting adventure. I found a friend. I would never be lonely anymore. I was happy. However, the feeling did not last long.

High school was unfamiliar and I thought that life would still be the same as it was in elementary, but I was wrong. High school was a much larger place than elementary school; it was a completely different world full of very diverse people. Lots of people started to notice me due to my imaginations and creativeness. They started to approach me and before I knew it, I became one of the members of their social circle. I made friends. I was happier, happier than the time I spent with my tree. And soon, instead of rushing home after school everyday, I stayed and spent time with my friends. Soon, very soon, I stopped observing the tree. I stopped talking to him. And slowly, I forgot about him. He went back to the ordinary tree just like the first we met. We no longer walked on the same path; we were strangers.

Now, standing in front of a mall that used to be my house, I saw trees swaying with the wind. But they were not my tree; my tree was gone; he was gone for a long long time. I did not know if I was sad or not for I only felt emptiness in my heart. Nothing. No emotions. But, I felt some part of me died. Some part of me died with the tree. Some part of me was buried deep down at the exact same spot the tree used to stand.

“Thank you, my friend.” I whispered softly. I knew he had heard me. I knew he would not be lonely anymore. Because, I heard him. I heard him clearly from the soft wind.

“You’re welcome.”

Special Thanks to ThinkWritten for Creative Writing Prompts:

"365 Creative Writing Prompts - ThinkWritten." ThinkWritten. N.p., 2016. Web. 08 Sept. 2016.