I don’t have long to type this out and I don’t know how to begin, but I need to warn you so that you don’t suffer the same fate I am. Posting it here is the best way that I know how to get this to you.
A few years ago my great aunt Agatha passed away. Until that point she had never missed a family gathering and kept up to date on all the family gossip and affairs. I guess she kept the will up to date as well, because there wasn’t a single person in the family that didn’t inherit something. I inherited the glass tree, and at first I was annoyed about it but… let’s begin with the letter:.
*Dear Marge: I hope this letter finds you in good health, if not, then good health shall soon come to you. I leave you my glass tree that was gifted to my uncle by a fairy. Which is why the craftsmanship is of such high quality for its age, but also why you cannot be greedy with it. Tell the tree your woes and watch your life blossom. I always believed in you and felt you had the worst luck, and I hope the tree will help your dreams become reality. Stay humble, much love, gr-Aunt Agatha.
I looked at the tree: it was exquisite and beautiful, and aged elegantly. The branches were a shining bronze colored glass adorned with shining emerald-colored leaves, and along the base was jade-colored grass. On the bottom were the words “Beware of Greed as you whisper your need” engraved into it. I placed it on my desk so I could have something to look at while I did my homework.
At the time, I was staying with a few other girls in a shoddy apartment that should really have been condemned. But that’s all we could afford, and it was cheaper and less restrictive than staying in a dorm on campus grounds. I didn’t talk to the tree, not yet, but I guess the tree heard us all talking about the apartment conditions and what it would take to be in a more comfortable apartment. Because a couple of months later we were moving closer to campus.
The new apartment was simple and had the bare basics of what we needed. The roof didn’t leak when it rained anymore, we felt safer and less cramped, and we were happier. That didn’t last too long. The day I realized the tree was actually blessing me is when it ended. Not immediately, stuff like this takes time, but that was the beginning of the end.
I hadn’t yet begun talking to the tree, but I had my roommates and took phone calls in my room and the tree listened. Even though I wasn’t talking to the tree directly, it still listened. Such a good tree, I hope you treat it better than I did. I was on the phone with my sister, complaining about my ex, Jeremy, and his stalking tactics. They were escalating and becoming more frightening by the day. I wanted him gone so that the fear would be gone.
The next day, he vanished. His to- go bag was in the passenger seat, and the car was turned on ready to start. Employees at the burger joint said they saw him climb into the car, but never pull out. The time stamp on the security footage was the same as when I was complaining to my sister. I looked at the tree, acting all innocent atop my desk, and a cold chill overtook me. My breath became shallow and I began to feel numb. I threw a piece of cloth over the tree, then avoided my room for the next few days.
I was in a panic, afraid to my bones, because the tree had magically made him into non-existence. The tree now felt evil, and I feared what it may do if I complained about my boss or anyone else. This lasted for a couple of months until I unloaded on some Medium that I had no intentions of talking to ever again.
“Have you ever read or seen Death Note?” She had asked me. I shook my head no and she went on. “In the story, if you write a name down in the notebook the person dies. They all die the same way and within the same time after writing their name. Unless you specify how and when they died, you couldn’t get too specific, but if you wrote it like a cause of death it would happen when and how you said. I wonder if you had told this tree that you wanted Jeremy to be arrested, or transferred away from you it would have done that instead.”
“Why do you think the tree would have behaved like this Death Note? I said I wanted Jeremy out of my life and he vanished, I didn’t say I wanted Jeremy to disappear off the face of earth!” I shouted.
“That’s how the fae works. They follow things to the letter, not to the spirit. You said the tree was made by the fae. If you say “I want a million bucks” you may have a yard full of Bambi rather than a pocket full of money,” she said.
I don’t remember how we agreed to test it, and I told her that I’d get back to her and let her know what happened. Obviously I never did, because when it worked the greed began. I suddenly saw the tree for its monetary worth, and I had big dreams to fulfill. I was no longer afraid of the tree now that its methods were clear. Oh, how foolish I was to think there was nothing to fear about my wonderful glass tree.
I think the Medium talked to someone else about the tree, because a “collector” for the “Katadesmos Museum” came by asking about it only a couple of weeks later. Of course, I told them where to stick it. I think she wanted it for herself because I couldn’t find it anywhere online. No amount of money on earth could equate the tree’s potential. I wish I had accepted their offer when I had the chance. Maybe it will show up at the “collector’s” house.
I didn’t go around killing people with the tree, and I couldn’t affect anybody who was a celebrity. I think the attention on celebrities is what protects them, not just that the tree refused because they’re a celebrity.
Last night was the night it was finally over. I sat in my new room in my four bedroom house that I owned all to myself, surrounded by closets of clothes that I only ever wore once, with my newfound wealth displayed on my walls for company that never came to see. I was watching youtube on my smart tv, when I saw a large house in the background of one of the videos.
“I want that house,” I turned to the glass tree in my lap like some kind of cat. “Get me that house! I want that house!” I know, very Veruca Salt of me… I guess that’s when the tree decided it had endured enough of my shit. I heard a loud crack and felt a pain on the bottom of my foot as though I had stepped on a shard of glass.
I cried out in pain and looked for the source… There wasn’t even any blood. I rubbed my finger along where I felt the pain… my foot was smooth like glass. I was slowly turning into glass beginning with my feet, I could feel it spreading. I began to panic when it got to my knees as I pleaded and begged with the tree.
It stopped at my waist so far, but by midnight tonight I will be all glass, I think. On the base is a clear figure of a young woman sitting with a book. It started off clear, but as I became more glass it became more colorful. I don’t know what will happen to me when I become all glass. Maybe I will shatter or just cease to be.
The tree has allowed me till midnight to post a warning for whoever ends up with it next. I don’t know how you will come across this tree, but I know somebody reading this will. When I begged for the chance to warn the world, I heard the name of this place as a soft whisper in the wind that sounded like rustling leaves. Be kind to the tree, and stay humble.