Grassland Alley

For me, nothing restores peace like creating and fostering beautiful things, then destroying them with fire. 

Moonbeams break through the wispy branches as I snap photos in a bewildering frenzy. I know I look like a mad woman, but nobody would be able to see me tucked deeply into the neglected forest. My knuckles are white from gripping my polaroid tightly, and I feel dizzy after whipping my head around several times to capture every beautiful image possible. 

I love to photograph green. Moss on a lonely rock, leaves on a towering tree, the random green orbs that pop up in my photos when my camera lens doesn’t adjust to the light correctly. I haven’t had this polaroid for long, yet the orbs seemed to appear an uncanny amount. I don’t mind though. Like I said, I love photographing green. 

The sound of a twig snapping is what breaks me out of my photo-snapping trance. I know who is here. He is the only one who knows my secret. My odd habit of capturing entrancing photos then feeling my heart soar as I toss them into a pit of fire. 

Leaf emerges, his plain brown hair tousled from ducking under scraggly branches. He is back lit by the brightness of the moon, but I can easily tell it is him by his tall lanky shadow. 

“What’s up Leaf,” I sigh. I don’t try to act excited. As he usually does, Leaf lopes over to a nearby tree and plops onto the ground without a word. He grins silently then settles quietly, his jacket shifting on his shoulders.

It is always so strange to me that when Leaf is nearby, the orbs disappear from my photos. But I don’t care. Not much makes sense in life so why should this?

Barely satisfied by the twenty instant photos that I accumulated, I nod at Leaf to start a small fire. 

In less than ten seconds, there is a vibrant flame illuminating our small space in the forest. 

“Thanks,” I mutter, once again, unenthusiastically. But the butterflies in my stomach begin to flutter as the scent of burning wood wafts into my nose. 

No surprise, Leaf nods a silent nod and turns away. Our weekly ritual. I feel a strange, sinister grin appear on my face as I feel the photos hitting my fingers while I flip through them. Green, green, and more green. The flash of my camera doesn’t pick much else up in the darkness of the night. 

Like a child savoring a piece of delectable chocolate, I throw the first photo into the fire. I hear the sizzling and popping of the plastic melting away, and I can’t help but feel joy as the beautiful pictures burn. I turn around, seeing that Leaf is still facing the other direction. I throw in a second photo. Then a third. The smoke grows thicker and my mood lifts exponentially. 

By the twentieth photo, I feel like I’m on top of the world. I can’t help but close my eyes and savor the feeling I have in this exact moment. I don’t feel hungry, lonely, or angry about the life I was born into. I feel in control. I can create and destroy pretty things as I please. My stomach rumbles and I know I crave something that isn’t food. Greed bubbles in my stomach, and my eyes dart around looking for something else pleasant and green to burn. 

This is when I realize Leaf is gone. I still don’t care. I quickly pick up my polaroid once more to snap another picture when I notice two green orbs in the image. Perfect. I run out of film so I enjoy this last image, watching it slowly diminish in the fire. 

I stamp out the flames, satisfied with my weekly tradition completed, and my eyes strain in the sudden darkness. I see two green orbs floating a few feet away. But they aren’t in a picture. I see them with my own brown eyes. 

“Leaf?” I call apprehensively. 

The orbs come closer to me and I finally recognize the two green eyes staring at me.

“What the hell, Leif, what are you doing?” I say not expecting an answer back. I pack up my things getting ready to return home to what many people call Grassland Alley.

However, I feel myself stutter in my steps as I hear an unfamiliar sound. A solemn, gravel like voice emerges. 

“I’m so sorry, Sage.”

I don’t have to turn around to know that it’s Leaf. It all comes to me in a rush. In a panic, I sprint through the woods towards the home I despise so much. I run towards it with the eagerness of a starving predator, in disbelief that I am running with such determination towards the place I loathe. 

Branches snap under my feet and vines catch on my clothes as I continue pushing my way out of the forest. I hear heavy footsteps running just as quickly behind me. The orbs in the photos were not mere defects from the light. I know that with utmost clarity now. 

I hear another set of feet emerge to my left, joining the wild goose chase that is Leaf and I. My lungs burn and there are tears in my eyes as I continue to push with all my might into Grassland Alley.

We aren’t allowed cameras here, and all this time, Leaf wasn’t a quiet companion, but another hungry boy on our much too crowded streets. I feel as if I was struck by lightning, jolted with the realization that Leaf wanted nothing but to turn me in for a measly sum of money. He betrayed me when the sum of money could buy only a week's worth of bread. 

I trip on a long, green vine overgrown in the unkempt forest, and my vision is blurred with exhaustion as my head hits the ground. My back rests on the soft loam, and I see four orbs bobbing in my vision. The green comes closer and closer to my eyes until it is all I see. I suddenly feel warm raindrops on my cheeks. 

“I’m so sorry, Sage,” Leaf’s deep voice says again. 

I feel disoriented as the warm rain falls on my eyelids, my forehead, my lips. It never rains here. 

As I slip into unconsciousness, I feel the soothing rain on my face and the warmth of the fire I had used to burn my glorious photos. 

“It’s okay, Leaf,” I whisper a sad smile playing on my lips,” You had to protect yourself. You know I love to burn green things.”