On The Winds Of Words

Sometimes it's better to have been born and raised in a sleepy little nowhere, where everyone knew you and you knew everyone else.

But whenever I fantasized about how nice it would’ve been to go waving a friendly hello to my equally friendly neighbors, reality always came and crashed those dreams. 

The gray and desolate surroundings of my youth never missed a chance to remind me that that wasn’t my life.

We lived in a well populated area, but everyone was as poor as we were. No one wanted to bond over their lack of possessions. If people became suspiciously friendly, it was probably because they wanted to get close enough to steal what little you were able to call your own. 

Having next to nothing would’ve been better than having actually nothing, but the cards were dealt for me in such a way that that’s what we got. Dirt was smeared under my arms to keep the stench of un-bathing at bay. The toys I played with made from garbage and rocks found lying in the street. More often than not, we didn’t even get any residents living on the opposite sides of whichever falling down house was unlucky enough to have us move into it.

I realized it was all my parents could afford, so I did my best not to complain, but still, a friend or two, to last through childhood, would’ve been…too amazing to even think about. Even now, now that I was an adult. I tried to push it away, but I couldn’t stop the images flashing through my head. Bikes, and movies. Sleepovers, and secrets. Things I only ever pretended that I had.

Being well over 20, I knew exactly what I wanted. I wanted those friendly faces, those clean parks, and maybe even a place exceptional enough to raise kids of my own one day. I was determined to get there.

I was already on my way.

I began moving to that sleepy little nowhere I had always dreamed about. Into a bright white, corner little bungalow. To make it that much better, I had managed to land a fancy new job less than a mile from where I work. The houses were clean and well kept up. There was no papers flying down the roads. Best of all, there were people that were out and about, doing normal people things. Walking their dogs. Taking their kids on playdates. Bringing home groceries. I couldn’t wait to interact with them and experience it all. This was everything I ever wanted.

The day of moving in was busy. It started getting dark and I wasn’t yet finished unloading the boxes into my new house. Considering picking things back up in the morning, I realized the street was mostly empty.

“Weird,” I thought to myself as I lugged what I guess could be my last box for the night. After all, I still had to eat and set up a place to sleep. “there were so many people a minute ago.”

I looked around anyway, hoping to say goodnight to someone on my first real night here. Turning back to my house, after not catching sight of anyone, I saw my neighbor in the house right next to me, hurriedly opening his front door, just to slither in and close it quicker than he had opened it. 

I raised my hand and yelled out, “goodnight” as he raced up his sidewalk, genuinely happy to have people around me. People I hoped to one day call my friends.

The saying ‘if looks could kill' shot through my mind. He didn’t seem to like that I had said goodnight to him, from the look he gave me. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why, but chalked it up to having a complete stranger waving you down just to tell you goodnight. 

Great.

I probably looked like some sort of crazy women, yelling maniacally with a ridiculously large smile. All I was missing was an evil cackle. Maybe I could fix it in the morning. I hope I see him then.

****************************************

By the end of the first week, my nerves were fried. Every time I tried to say hi or introduce myself to anyone, they ran away from me like I had the plague. I couldn’t understand what I did wrong. I had worked so hard to get here.

Maybe I never had the most luxurious jobs. I babysat and cleaned a lot of people’s houses to make ends meet, and when the men of the houses asked for 'favors', I went ahead and did that too because I had nothing to lose. I went without things I needed and had saved every extra penny I could to get here. And now the people didn’t like me. Maybe they thought I was disgusting for having lived the way I did. Not that there was any way they could’ve found out. Maybe this and maybe that. None of it made any difference, because the people of this town went out of their way to never talk to me.

I was discouraged, but I didn’t stop trying. It became a game for me. I had to get at least one person to talk to me by the end of the second week or I was going to just come out and ask someone why? Why would no one at least say hi?

One of my go-tos for trying to get people to budge on their silent treatment was to hang out at the library after work. There was always tons of people there, and always people talking. So far all it had yielded was blank stares and cold shoulders.

After sitting in the dusty old bathroom for the last hour, crying, I heard someone else come in. Wiping my tears away, I looked in the mirror and knew it wouldn’t help. My eyes were swollen and red, and I decided not to try what I was doing.

The girl that had wandered in was just a girl looking around for anyone left over, to tell them it was time to leave. Her eyes moved methodically back and forth throughout the tiny rook. I suddenly perked up at my situation. I knew exactly what I could do.

The gaze that landed on me was filled with contempt and disgust. Like she couldn’t believe that of all people, she had to find me in here. This town reminded me a lot of how I grew up. I had some material things now, but the people were as empty as I’ve ever known.

She didn’t make a sound. Instead she vaguely gestured towards the door. 

I got up to wash my hands. She tapped one foot on the mismatched tiles and waited.

I washed my face. She added a very stern arms crossing over her chest to her tapping.

I took some paper towel from the dispenser, but bunched them up in my hands instead of drying anything off. She sighed in frustration. It was the most noise a person had made in my direction since I got here. It was monumental.

Beginning to fold the towels that were halfway wet, just to let her know that I was going to do this all night if I had to, she took me by my arm and knocked the small stack down. 

“Hey, don’t touch me.” I tried to protest while also trying to yank my arm away from her. It was no use. She just casually walked me through the bathroom door, through the empty expanse of library, and shoved me out into the warm air.

I sat on the curb. My plan hadn’t worked. I thought if I pretended not to understand what she wanted, she would’ve been forced to tell me. To talk to me.

Maybe I should just move somewhere else and start again. People can’t be this bad everywhere, can they?

Right as I had that thought, a lady walked by with her hands full of large, brown, paper bags. Must be going home from the grocery store. There was a slow, faint stirring of the wind and then even more so faintly, a whisper.

“Best not be out after dark.”

I wasn’t sure I heard her correctly. Or at all.

“Um, excuse me? What was that? Did you say something?” I called after her, but she never stopped. She never even looked back.

I didn’t know what she meant by that, so I just stared at where she had passed me by. My awe keeping me frozen in place, until the colors of the setting sun started to give way to darker skies.

Slowly, I began to walk home.

Making it to the halfway point, night was complete. There was no moon and no stars, just a pitch black.

There was someone walking up ahead, towards me, and I suddenly felt extremely exposed. I had nothing to defend myself with, which was completely stupid of me. I knew how people could be, why did I ever think that just because I moved to a 'nicer' area, that I could let my guard down?

I prepared to fight, or run, if I had to, but I realized that I recognized the man when he was only a few paces from me. 

My neighbor from the first night when I moved in. I hadn’t seen him since then, but it was him for sure. I knew now was my chance to introduce myself.

“Hi. I’m your neighbor. I just moved in about a week ago. It’s great to finally meet you. My name's Jane. What’s your?” 

I knew it was a lot to throw at him all at once, but I really wanted to talk to somebody. To anybody. I was so excited to see a familiar face that I thought should be excited to see mine too.

Taking the last final steps towards me, I could see that his eyes were dead and vacant, not an ounce of excitement or any other emotion showing.

“You do not listen. You shouldn’t be out after dark. My brother’s like you. You are like them, but not family. We are not allowed to turn you.”

His voice was just as faint and whispery as the women that walked by me earlier. If he hadn’t been standing less than a foot away, I wouldn’t have thought he was talking at all. 

His eyes; staring into nothing and at the same time, staring into me. His voice; almost non-existent and bone thin. His words; eerie and bone chilling.

I had no idea what he was getting at.

“What do you mean, your brothers like me? I haven't even met anyone. And what can't you turn me to?”

He looked, actually looked, into my eyes, but his voice was still as soft and flowing as the wind. “You moved here, the brothers said 'do not include her. She has come from the Earth like we have, but we do not know her. She is free to live in peace.’, and then they forbid us to welcome you or get close enough to touch you or even talk to you.”

“But,” He continued, moving his face closer to mine, scaring me further. “It's night time now, so you will see anyway.” 

I opened my mouth to ask him to elaborate, when his arm brushed against mine as he tried to move away from me. The shivers that raced through my body hunched me over and the questions drained from my throat.

Everything about him so far had been frightening. His eyes and his voice. Most of all what he had said. But nothing had scared me as much as his touch. 

It felt like I was caught in a forest, running through an overly dense band of trees. The trees had branches that reached out and scratched me, and those branches had leaves, made up of some itchy, poisonous fibers that bit into my skin.

I looked at my arm and instinctively rubbed the area, but it was too late. My arm was already turning a bright red with miniature little blisters popping out on top of the redness.

I wanted to rush home. To clean myself up, and to not care about this little stupid town anymore. I didn't care what I had wanted before. There was something wrong with these people here, and I was going to leave.

The first step I took though, was chased by a whispery yet terrifying laugh.

“It seems you will be one of us whether or not the brothers say so. Go the woods. The brothers will help you.”

As he spoke, little shoots of barky brown flourished with bushy green at the ends, broke free of his arms. He slowly started to resemble exactly what I had pictured when he had touched me a minute ago. 

A tree.

I turned on my heel, and ran as fast as I could through town to get to the small woods that served as the center point. Until now, I just thought it was a cute little park. Now I understood it was something more sinister. 

As I ran, I noticed lots of people outside, standing in their front lawns or on a patch of dirt here or there. Too many people out for a normal night or a normal town. They all looked at me as I passed by, but still no one said anything to me. Everyone had their arms reaching to the sky and their feet firmly planting them in place. They all had the little branches and leaves poking from their arms like my neighbor did, giving them the appearance of looking like trees. 

I made it to the woods and skidded to a halt. All the trees bent and waved in my direction, reaching for me. One scooped me into it’s branches and held me close. 

As my skin connected with the bark, it burst into pain and redness and blisters. A sense of understanding washed over me, and I knew what the trees knew.

A long time ago, the trees communicated with each other by soaking up the dirt and turning it into chemicals, then spreading it through the air to one another. These chemicals were received and interpreted as pictures and words by the trees around them.

All was well until people found out they did this, and wanted it for themselves. How convenient it would be to whisper to one another on the wind!

Humans worked the trees and beat the secrets out of them, until they were able to do the same as them. 

Eventually the trees had enough fighting to keep what they were born with and decided to just give people the ways of what they could do with a simple touch.

But it wasn’t what people bargained for, as the process was painful and they had to take on small, physical characteristics of the tree that changed them.

People decided they didn’t like what they had been given and retaliated. They cut down every tree they came across.

After some time, the only trees left with the ability turned every single person that came around them with the cover of night, or the touch of another person. 

Only the people that had suffered and treated the Earth kindly we’re allowed to live without being changed.

But then there was me. I had accidentally been touched. All I ever wanted was a quiet neighborhood with friendly faces and enough food to eat. The trees felt bad that I had been sucked into their curse. I would suffer for the rest of my life just as much as I had from the beginning.

I reached up into the leaves of the tree that held me. I held on tight as I finished turning. At least I had the friends I was seeking in the woods that surrounded me. Even though they weren’t the friends that would ever be able to comfort me.

I cried into the night at the fate that was my life.

Sometimes it’s better to have been born and raised into nothing. To have nothing and know nothing, so that no one can hurt you.