It all happened so fast once I decided they weren't going to show. Was so incredibly easy. All I needed was the rag. The paint thinner from art. I'd found out the tree was hollow some while back; that's why it was white—it was dead. It was so easy to kind of dig the dirt away at its base and just crawl up inside. So easy. Too easy. Just sat with my knees up against my chest in the damp darkness. Put on my headphones, loud. Soaked the rag. Held it up against my face. And breathed. Just . . . breathed. Until the world spun. Until my heart beat so fast I thought it would explode. Until I ended up where I am now. Only . . . I hadn't exactly expected it like this. Not stuck here. And the weird thing is, I'm not even entirely sure why I did it anymore. I think that—maybe—I figured someone would come stop me at the last minute. But no one did.