Rotten Core

The forest was peaceful today. A light breeze swept across the brazen earth, sending leaves fluttering through the cool air. The songbirds were lightly singing to one another as a singular woodpecker was pecking, and the squirrels were quarreling over acorns, their ferocious squabbles echoing through the trees. As the sun began to sink in the late afternoon sky–basking the tips of the trees in warm golden hues–I heard them. Their giggles reached me from afar. My mood was instantly soured. I reached out to my brethren, stretching my roots, confirming it was truly him. They replied, quite stricken, that it was indeed him. The ladies immediately got anxious buzzing around me like bees. Come closer, I beckoned. I was growing weary in my age caring for the weight of so many hurt souls. It’s alright, be calm, I soothed offering my sap filled heart as refuge.

Within minutes, the boy made his appearance. A young lady was saddled to his side, arm looped coquettishly through his arm. A bright youthful smile plastered to her face. I couldn’t help the heavy feeling that settled uncomfortably in my bark. Another poor sweet innocent little thing. I watched as he began his usual routine. From the outside they looked perfect. He laid out the worn blue plaid sheet that was frayed at the edges as their picnic blanket. He then began to set up his intricate feast of picnic snacks. From crumbly crackers to juicy honey sliced ham and licorice, he had it all. The wide-eyed girl began to look around. Her rich brown eyes swept the woods they hiked through, finally settling on the little red sugary fruits I had worked so hard to birth.

“Oh! Look how good these apples look, you should help me pick one babe!” she cried cheerfully.

“Anything for you,” he smirked, sauntering over and reaching up with his long lanky arms.

As he snatched my precious babe from the gnarled snares of my branches, a soft peachy blush bloomed across her round cheeks. I could feel my resentment and anger building. I couldn’t keep watching this, but I had no choice. Literally rooted to the ground, I was destined to watch in horror. Every. Time. He extended his palm bearing his offering to her. Just as she was about to grab it from his grasp, he whisked it away bringing it to his lips when he cockily took a massive bite. The crisp crunch echoed out as her features molded into a growl, her arms crossed against her chest.

“Are you being for real right now?” she scoffed.

“Relax, I’m just playing with you. Here, take it.” He snidely mumbled through a mouthful, offering the fruit back to her.

She plucked it from him, scrutinizing his grotesque bite. With a scoff she launched it at his stomach, “Why on earth would I want your discards, jerk.”

“Jeez, I’m sorry,” he flinched as the apple hit him.

He proceeded to wrap her up in an embrace before kissing her. Their lips colliding in a familiar tango. I could feel my leaves withering at the sight. I was waiting. Waiting for the inevitable. His timing was always different.

The evening progressed antagonizingly as they sipped wine from glasses too fragile and delicate for these woods. They talked on and on about unpromising futures, cracking jokes, and making out. Near the end, when the food he so carefully prepared laid to shambles along the blanket and they were once again embraced in intimacy, he moved. Subtle at first. A small sliding of his calloused hand up to the base of her neck. Right before his second one joined. Together they closed in. Squeezing harder and harder. Until her airways were blocked and she was flailing for help. Anything. Her fists beating against his rotten heart. It was to no avail. Soon she lay pale and unmoving on the dewy forest floor. Ugly harsh purple ligatures blooming along her neck.

My girls cried in agony. Rushing about in untamed spiritual anger. I was grieving. Another one gone. The boy gloating whipped out his pocket knife. He wrapped her thin auburn hair around his hand twisting it into a tight coil before placing the blade against the strands. In jagged cuts, he lobbed a good chunk off and unceremoniously shoved it into his tan khaki pants. He always stole something from his victims. Typical.

After disappearing for a short while, he came back with a shovel. Next to the graves of his other victims at the base of my trunk he began digging; throwing clods of packed dirt over his broad shoulders. The birds no longer sang. It was a sad night. When he was finally done removing approximately four feet of soil he tossed her limp body down. The cold dirt was hard and unwelcoming as he covered her.

He left. Job complete. She woke. Her spirit clinging to me in a rush of emotions. None of them could leave their burial. Not without closure. I reached out as best I could to comfort her in the discovery of her death. Like the others she was confused, sad, and angry. But unlike the rest she was seething with untamed vengeance.

Little did I know the vehemence she would carry for the next several months. Little did I know how she planned to get back for all the women he hurt. Little did I know how she would dance around my branches crushing the newly budded spring flowers I grew, leaving all but one to fester. Little did I know how she would channel all of her pent up frustration and anger into this one fruit. It looked quite perfect to the naked eye. But inside it was wholly rotten. Just like him. And then we waited.

How I wish I could say he never came back. How I wish I could at least say I didn’t see him for another few years. But of course he couldn’t resist. Someone that evil revels in others' pain, so consumed in their suffering they forget humanity. After a cold snowy winter and bountiful spring when my apple came to term he arrived once more. Same old routine. Picnic special. This time a small petite blonde totally entranced by his masked wonder accompanied him.

But this time was different. As the girl looked around she only saw the one apple. Hanging precariously on a sturdy branch right before them.

“Wow, look how perfect.”

Just as foreseen, when she reached for the apple he rushed from behind ripping it clean off. He ran around my base as she chased him in playful delight. He then half turned to look at her, biting a clean chunk off. He chewed and swallowed it victoriously laughing at her insignificance. However, this time he didn’t get to continue his well thought out plans. As I mentioned before, that apple was rotten. So poisonous by the fury of countless women, he stood no chance. It seized his body causing him to cripple in painful agony. He clawed at his throat leaving sharp red lines streaking down his once smooth neck. It wasn’t long before he seized. It wasn’t long before his body couldn’t combat the poison any more. It wasn’t long until he was gone. Broken and limp on the forest floor. The blonde frantically ran in panic, but none of that mattered. His reign of terror was finally over.

My girls were satisfied. One by one they left. Freed from their anger and grief. Only one stayed behind. His last victim. I could almost feel her hovering over his body with a nod of approval before she too fled the confines of her burial. A huge weight was lifted from my oaken limbs. He, however, would never leave. Not as long as I stood tall and towering in this forest. He would pay for every moment until my body lies dead and hollow on the forest floor alongside my girls.

Finally, there was peace again. The songbirds once again sang their melodic songs. The ethereal calls carried along the wind through the trees as the sun rose above the horizon.