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Seven Simple Words

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A story I wrote a while ago. It's nothing much, but I sort of like it.



Your head doesn't feel right if it's not your own. In fact, nothing feels right if you are sharing your body. Your arms twitch from some unknown force, your legs quiver from the pressure of two brains, of two souls, melted together in one body. Your lungs burn from the effort of constantly holding in your breath. And your head is the worst part. The only place that was private to you is now gone, combined, with another's thoughts. And to think that this came of you when you stumbled upon an old tree...


It was summer, a warm summer, with a slight breeze that pressed your light clothing and your sticky, sweaty skin. Your thick, curly red hair flew behind you. "Let me fly!" it insisted. "Let me fly!" And even though flying sounded mighty good to you, you willed yourself to stay on the ground. You walked against the wind, keeping your eyes on the crystalline blue sky with the large yellow sphere. A bird let out a sharp "Caw!" above you and circled the trees. It dipped and soared next to you, and you could swear that it winked at you. You giggled, but then slammed against a hard surface. Wincing, you stepped back...


... And gasped. Spread above you was a huge tree, its branches spiraling up to the sky, touching the sun. For a second you considered climbing it, just to see if you could reach up and feel your fingers brush against the smooth sky, but then you realized that the tree had never been there before. Before you could tihnk about this, though, a booming voice called out your name. You turned around on your heel, expecting to see a man approaching you, but you saw nothing but seemingly endless rows of rolling hills. The voice called out again. This time you turned and brushed your fingers against the smooth, even surface of the bark. The voice spoke again, saying that it grants life, it grants happiness, it grants dreams. You squinted at it and asked in a small chirp, "How?" The tree said that all it needed was company, that it was lonely in its task. You said without thinking, "I will keep you from being lonely."


All of a sudden, a gust of wind stronger than any other blasted you in the face. You clawed at the tree, trying to keep yourself from flying away. At first your fingers grazed the surface, but then it vanished. You thought you would for sure fly away and join the birds, but the wind stopped and all that you felt was a faint tingling feeling. You realized that the wind was being absorbed into your skin! When it stopped, a chilling voice laughed in your head. You ran to the lake behind where the tree was and sobbed. Your skin, which used to be beautiful ivory, was now a dark blue. Your clothing, which used to be dirty and caked with mud, was elegant and smooth. You took a deep breath, and immediately wished you hadn't. You were hit with a huge wall of items- feathers and leaves and patches of fur.


You were a monster all because of that tree. That tree had tricked you, and now you drew in the souls and lives of things everywhere with each breath you inhaled. With each exhale a gust of wind flew through your mouth, destroying all that was near it.


But you are not done yet. Each day you lie in wait of someone to set you free of this...this prison of spririt. It is the only thing that keeps you mortal, you think.


All because of seven simple words.

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