The Girl from the Treehouse

The smoke penetrated my lungs, the heat was insufferable. Though my vision was blurred, I ran as fast as I could, praying to see the light. Finally, I shattered the barrier of soot and the cool night air cloaked me as a mother with a warm blanket. As I found my strength, I became aware of what was going on around me. All the flashing red and blaring noises enhanced rather abruptly. Then it hit me that something was missing. Before my brain could process it, my feet were running back to the very place I had barely escaped from. An outpour of tears mixed with the cool air burned my face. I almost made it when I suddenly stopped, restricted from moving. I fought with all of my might, sobbing and screaming, “Mom.” Suddenly a loud blaring noise filled my eardrums. My eyes opened with a delayed start. This was the dream that I had. The same dream I had the night before and the night before that. Only it wasn't a dream but a memory I tried so desperately to dispose of. I managed to pull myself up from off of my mattress that was so low it felt as though I was sleeping on the floor. The wooden planks groaned underneath my feet as I made my way to the pile of clothes that took residence in the corner of the room. I was growing weary of wearing the same clothes day after day, but this is all I had. This was all I could manage to swipe from the town’s lost and found. All that was given to me by my aunt the last time she visited-she loved me but was way too busy to take care of me. This small 8 by 8 ramshackle treehouse was where I lived. My dad had built it for me the summer before he left. Now, his was the only home I knew since mine was taken away from me, by the fire, along with my mom. I dragged on my clothes, grabbed my backpack and climbed down the stairs. I made it about one foot away from where I started when a shiny black car pulled up beside me. The car door opened and from behind came a familiar face. A rather tall lady, slender. She had her hair pulled back into a tight bun and she wore a gray pantsuit. She worked for CPS. Her name was Angela. Crap, how did she find me? “I’ve been looking all over for you Hannah”, she called to me. I said nothing. A kid like you shouldn’t be out here by herself”, she continued. “You should be living with your aunt”. “Well, let me know if you can find her”, I bellowed sarcastically. She didn’t share my humor. Her face stayed soft but also turned stern. There was silence for a few painful seconds. She looked at me as though she pitied me, felt sorry for me. After months of seeing that same expression over and over, it never resonated with me. This sympathetic look tied my stomach in knots every time. It’s like they wanted to feel my pain but knew they couldn't and that’s what made it worse. They couldn’t understand. I knew I couldn’t avoid her anymore. “I don’t want to live with someone else”, I started. “I don't, I do-”. “I know”, she said. “Just come with me”. We drove for what seemed like at least an hour then pulled up to a motel. Stone Trail Motel was its name. But don't let the name fool you, the place is an absolute dump. We talked through the door, and I was immediately greeted by the smell of mold mixed with vegemite. An old wrinkly-looking man came through an opening behind the counter and greeted us with a missing toothed smile. “Welcome folks”, he beamed. “Good afternoon, sir”, Angela said. “We spoke on the phone not too long ago, this is Hannah”. She gave me a rather uncomfortable squeeze. “Ah yes, hello miss.” He said to me. “Hello”, I replied. “Wait, so I’m living here?", I turned and asked Angela. “Mr. Murphy has been kind enough to let you stay here in exchange for working around the motel”. My lips wanted to stay something but thankfully my brain stopped me just in time. Just then a middle-aged-ish looking man walked in. He had a ruggish looking vibe about him. A mountain man type of thing going on. I mean we did live in the woods, so it was appropriate. “Ladies this is Cole, the manager", Mr. Murphy said. Angela straightened her posture as if it she was meeting the Queen of England and extended her long-fingered hand out to him. “I'm Angela, it's a pleasure to meet you”, she said. “The pleasure is all mine”, he replied. And with that I felt the breakfast that I didn’t have starting to come back up. “Well, you’re in good hands here”, she said, then she left. “Hi, I’m Cole”, he turned to me. “Hannah”, I said coldly. “Alright Hannah, follow me”. He led me through the main hallway, up the stairs and finally to unfortunately what he said would be my room. “This is where you’ll sleep”, he stated. “You’ll have 8 hour shifts every day and your tasks will be different.” “Sometimes you’ll help guests, sometimes you’ll clean toilets, sometimes you’ll rub my feet, depending on my mood for that day”, he said smiling. My face didn’t budge. Great, a comedian. “Great thanks”, I said”. Right before he walked out, he said. “Look kid I know it’s not the best but It’s something right?” “Yeah, it is something”, I thought. Later that night I tried sleeping but every time I would close my eyes, I would get the same imagery in mind, the same memory. So instead, I walked downstairs. “Awfully late to be going on a stroll isn’t it”. I didn’t expect him to be there, and he knew that. “I’m not trying to escape”, I said. “I need some fresh air but those crappy windows of yours won’t open.” He said nothing as though he was trying to figure out whether he wanted to believe me or not. He looked like he was getting ready to tell me to go back to my room when I started to have a coughing fit. It was so bad I thought my whole liver was going to come up out into my hands. Eventually he said, “Mind if I join you?”. “Yes, I do mind”, I thought, but instead, I said “no”. He chucked this old looking coat at me as he reached for his own and I dragged it on. We walked out the door and started down the winding trail. “You should get that cough checked out", he said to me. “It’s fine”, I insisted. I felt his eyes turn to me. “Are you always this-” “What”, I interrupted. “Independent”, he said. I chuckled but said nothing back. We continued walking for another five minutes when we arrived at a towering magnificent oak tree. Around its thick roots laid many sticks of all shapes and sizes. Its trunk was engraved with many letters, all in pairs. Initials. Cole must’ve seen my confused expression because he said, “This is where me and my friends would come to hang out.” "We would use these sticks and build towers, whoever got the highest tower would win.” “That’s lame”, I said bitterly. “Wanna play?” he asked. At first, I said no but then he threatened to make me clean the toilets, so I played. We started off playing for five minutes then ten minutes then thirty minutes. After an hour Cole had beat me so many times that I had stopped keeping track. After that, we headed back to the motel. We talked for a while then Cole said, “Must’ve been hard losing a parent, I'm really sorry". With those words the image of that night flashed into my mind once again, I felt myself started to panic and I quickly did what I could to steady my breathing. "Yeah, it is”, I said. “I know what you're going through”, he said back. “You lost a parent”, I asked a little too enthusiastically. “Both, car crash”, he said. “Wow I’m sorry”, I replied. “Just know it gets easier", he concluded. His words stuck with me and after that I felt as though we had a connection. Over the next month or so Cole and I became closer, he was like a father-figure to me. Until it came crashing down. One day I went into Cole's room to get something when I saw a piece of his mail sitting on his nightstand. It was addressed to Colton Wale. My heart completely stopped for a second or two. Cole's real name was Colton? How did I not know that? My name was Hannah, Hannah Wale. Colton was my father? I felt like I couldn't breathe. "There's no way", I thought. I ran down the stairs and shoved the letter in his face. I asked him and he said it was true. He started to explain himself, but I didn't stop for one second to listen. I had suddenly become very uncontrollable ANGRY. He was right here this whole time. Right in the next town over. While I suffered, he lived a normal life here as though he had not a care in the world. No other life outside these walls, no one who so desperately needed him. The beats of my heart became so loud it was as if I was wearing a stethoscope. My breath weighed so heavily on my chest that I found myself struggling to draw oxygen into my lungs. My eyes became blurred with water and suddenly I realized what was happening. I was being brought back to that night yet again. The only difference is I wasn’t asleep, I was awake. “Hannah”, I heard very faintly. With that I was drawn back into the present. I was spinning, I felt so dizzy. My vision saw one silhouette, then two. As my eyes drew shut there was probably a group of ten people surrounding me, workers, guests who knew. The next time I would open my eyes wouldn't be for five days. Though for me it felt as though only five seconds had passed. The one person I expected to be beside surely was there. As I opened my eyes and peered on his face a feeling came over me that I would entitle as anger. Before either of us could manage any words, a nurse appeared. “Are you, her father? she asked as she turned to him. The word made me sick. I would have regurgitated it if I had anything in my stomach. He must have seen my expression because he let out a brief “yes "as to indicate the uncomfortable nature of the question. The nurse had this sad demeanor as she looked at her clipboard. I expected to be nervous for whatever she had to tell me, but I wasn’t. “It’s okay”, I finally said weakly. “Whatever it is, it’s okay”. The nurse looked at me with an expression that I had not yet received, not pity but admiration. Her tone was soft, and her body language was in check, she had done this before. She told us what was wrong with me. She explained it in great detail. I wish I could tell you what she said but I don't know what it was. After I stopped listening however, I turned my head to Cole. He was absorbing every word as though the nurse was his college professor preparing him for an important test. I closed my eyes, I suddenly felt incredibly tired. When the nurse said her piece, I heard her footsteps trailing away and she left. Cole sat there beside me, mute. I didn’t open my eyes. I didn't want to talk about it. I wanted to sleep. The next few days I was uncharacteristically happy. Cole’s present cheered me up. He refused to leave my side even for a second. After visiting hours, he would sneak back into my room, and we would watch movies. Then he would sneak back out before morning and come back during the day like nothing happened. He made sure I was happy because he heard the one important thing that I didn’t, I only had a few days to live. Though I didn’t hear it I knew. My body felt like it was disintegrating, and my organs felt as though they were being turned off one by one with a light switch. I couldn't see myself, but I knew I resembled that of a corpse. Colton was all I needed for this confirmation, his face said it all. Teared rolled down his face and the sight of this pained me, whether I liked it or not I’d grown attached to him. Choked up he whispered, “I'm sorry”. I wanted to tell him it was okay that I forgave him for everything but all I could do was nod. As my eyes drew shut, I found comfort in knowing that I wouldn’t be visited my awful memory but something else I longed for. I took a deep breath and thought, “I’m coming mom.”