The Girl, The Swamp, and The Blackened Tree

There was a girl standing at the gate of a cemetery. She said that she wanted to walk away from that place, but she just couldn't. Her body would not move. So the girl, without any other choice, carried her quivering self and her heavy feet inside

With her feet as her guide in a dim foggy place, she clasped her heart tight. Her eyes widened and her ears heightened. She jumped at the slightest movement around her.

The girl stopped when in front of her stood a dead tree. Leaves were none of its blackened arms. The girl's foot tried to take a step back. She tried and tried, but her foot would not. All the more, the girl shivered. With no other choice, she had to step one forward.

She sang a song only herself could hear. To blur the ghosts kept running around her head. To shut the howls and whistles of the wind blowing and passing by. To lift her spirit from the ghouls created by her mind.

She summoned courage little by little. Her song, she sang it louder and louder. Each dreaded step sent her to the blackened tree, closer and closer. Her heart she clasped, tighter and tighter.

Another step and she was freed with the haunting of the blackened tree. She dared not look back, in herself she celebrated with glee.

Her revelry was short. Beyond the rows of tombs, a dead swamp to her awaits. Thickened by mud, blackened like the tree. Her hands, and her skin, crippled with the cold. But her mind pushed her, cheered her, things will be done soon.

Below the waters, a grave of a thousand beings. Their mourning and weeping bubbled out until the surface of the swamp. Condemned, their hands chained by the jury of the mud. Until eternity, their weary souls were sentenced to drown.

The girl stood still by the edge of the water. She questioned herself, why am I here? Her once restless heart, pounding like a drum. Slower and slower, the beating went lighter and lighter.

Her hands, once cold, were getting warmer and warmer. Her dread was fading, like the night taking over the light. The girl in her baffled state could almost taste peace. The swamp before her, beckoning, welcoming, inviting her in.

With her eyes forward, she took one step to the water. The moaning, and weeping echoed, deafening, more like rejoicing. The mud, as if alive, creeping to her skin. Covering, engulfing, taking over what was left of her.

The wind howled once more, it was threatening and screaming. To the girl’s long hair, it was hurling and pulling. To the girl's unmoving eyes, the wind rammed itself. Wailing, smashing, waking the girl from perilous dreaming.

What are you doing?
Stop!
Wake up, child.
Stop now!
Hear me, child.
No more, step no more.
Child…

"Silly girl, stop it at once!" roared the blackened tree. Its shout hovered over the voices of the swamp. The blackened tree shook its creaking arms. Reaching out for the wind to carry out its words.

The blackened tree whipped the wind with its arms. Strong enough it formed blades in the air. Sharp enough, it travelled past the tombs, past the ghost, past everything else. 

Unto the swamp, and unto the girl, the blades cut through her thin skin. Bleeding and hurting, the blades stirred the girl to her stolen senses. Gasping and clawing, she tried to rid herself from the devious mud.

The girl with all her might ran faster than she could. Stumbling and falling didn't matter, she did what she could. Unto the blackened tree, she knew it could be her refuge. The girl had fallen, as the wind stopped its howling.

Hello, everyone.

I'm back again after our internet connection went on vacation for one and a half days. I was thankful it was back yesterday afternoon.

I am very grateful of you being here. Thank you for reading my rather unusual and most times silly articles. Thank you so much. See you again next time. Have a good day.

All images and words in this article are mine.