The air in my parent’s living room was hot and dry, undoubtedly the old furnaces doing. I was here as part of my weekly checkup to see if my parents were doing all right. Every week I tell myself that I need to keep it short but every week one of them manages to catch me with something different. My attention was wandering across the walls, as they do every time, diverting my attention away from my mother. This time they settled on an old family photograph. All of my relatives together separated into two rows. The people weren’t what caught my attention, however. Those honors belonged to the old oak tree in the background. Although magnificent in his size and visible age, what had captured my gaze was the way the bark ran across its length. Curling up in some places, forming U-shapes in others, and encircling what appeared to be sunken in spots it gave the tree the look of a benevolent smile. “Oh Dear, what a pretty day that was. Everyone in their best clothes and happy. Oh what a day it was”. My mom seemed to have noticed that I was not paying attention to her anymore and had walked up to me. I tore myself away from the wall, forcing myself to look at her, “Mom, what tree is that? I don’t remember it at all but it seems so familiar?”.
Akin to a layer of dust on a car during a sudden summer rain, her smile was washed off her face. With a now raspy-sounding voice, she responded: “ Honey it’s just a funny-looking tree you and your friends used to play under”. Her tone was shaking while she said that making it clear that I wouldn’t get any more information out of her. We finished up our talk in the living room and after a brief chat with my dad, I went back to my place. As hunger began to use my stomach as its personal chewing toy I found some microwavable pasta at the back of my fridge.
With my gourmet meal at hand, I sat down to get my homework for uni done but it was incredibly hard to focus. Whenever I didn’t force myself to write or read, my mind drifted back to the shade underneath the tree, oh-so-cool during hot summer afternoons. I pinched my arm and went back to business. For a while, I was stuck in this cycle. What eventually broke it was a leaf grazing my cheek on its way to the floor. When I looked up I saw two boys staring at me, their faces filled with concern. “Are you alright Zoe? You just tensed up and started shaking”. Without my consent or want my lips moved and I answered: “Of course I am, Dickhead. I was just a little distracted.”. Accepting my explanation we continued to play as the summer sun continued her path towards the blurry line of the horizon. In the rays of the setting sun, the tree’s warm smile began to look more and more sinister.
One of my friends, I remember his name was Micheal, started pestering us to go home as we weren’t allowed to be up here at night. “Oh come, on don’t be such a wuss. I am a girl and way braver than you”. Spurned on by my words he toughened up, chasing his brother around the tree. We kept teasing each other, fooling around like children do until the last shimmers of sunlight were chased away by the moon’s silver tendrils. Having gotten into an argument over something I did not quite understand, the two were rolling through the grass fighting. That was when I heard it. A giggle. I turned around to follow the sound that was so dreadfully out of place. It came from behind the tree. No not from behind the tree, from inside it. The hole that looked like a nose was spilling over with sounds.
Screams, laughs, moans, roars. All coming from deep within. Careful, to not make a sound, I stumbled towards the opening. A faint red light emanated from it. My face was now basically pressed into it, trying to get a glimpse of what was in there but all I got was a coughing fit from all the smoke inside. A scraping noise pulled my attention back to the tree. ‘It’s too late’ is all I could think as I caught a glimpse of the bony white arms contorting their way out of the hole. I did my best to run, not telling the brothers what I saw. I just sprinted past them.
Once again just a passenger on this ride I was unable to turn my frail child-sized body around to warn them. After what felt like ages of sprinting I dove behind a rock. Long had the screams that accompanied my escape stayed quiet. Was it done? Was its hunger satiated? A blood-covered face pulled me right back into reality. It was Michael, he had somehow made it. “Shhhh, it was right on my heels”, his very battered heels as I noticed. “All right, Imma goes check out our surroundings, you stay here and keep a watch”.
Suddenly, I knew what was about to happen. No, I had always known, I just wanted to forget. I wanted to shout at him, to warn him. I couldn’t. Silent sobs rated my body as terror flooded my senses. I watched myself pick up a sharp-looking rock and approach Michael with it. He didn’t even have time to turn around. At first, it was just blood that stained my dress but a weird gooey substance soon joined in. Every hit sent a wet sound echoing through the brush. When I was sure he wouldn’t move anymore I did my best to drag him out of our hiding spot, and directly to the spindly giant waiting for us. It smiled at me, like the tree used to.
The dream left me shaking in my chair. Vomit soaking into my clothing and homework. I threw up again. And again. I was a murderer.
Since then I return there every time I close my eyes. Whatever that damned smiling monolith is, it wants me. It wants me to come back. Maybe I will.