My entry for Watty Awards. Better late then never :)

Hope you like it :D

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She loves the forest. She loves the way the branches twist and turn as vines threaten to suffocate them. She loves how the ground is coated with a thick layer of sweet violets, which flourish despite the plants which crush them. She loves how the dew attacks her feet; how droplets of rain fall from the canopy, settling into her hair. She loves how each fallen leaf seems to have its own story, forgotten in time. She loves that she’s never seen another person in her forest. She loves that it’s the last place she’ll ever see.

She climbs over the fallen tree and a smile, like the crescent moon, appears on her face as she knows she is safe in her sanctuary. She stares at the hollow tree and it’s almost as though it is staring back, then she frowns as she realises it is. The hollow tree stands ancient and unblemished; here it is as though time itself forgot to tick. It stands wise, tall and proud, and she knows it has heard everyone’s secrets.      

She walks around the tree, running her hands along the trunk, trying to figure out what is so enchanting about it, but she will never know. No one will. It just seems to be part of the mystery of the ancient hollow tree.

She stares up amongst the thick branches and wonders if she knows anyone else who’s seen the hollow tree. She wonders if her parents know about it, or her brother and little sister. She breathes in the musky scent of the forest as she shuts her eyes. She wonders why she’s always drawn back to the tree, why it comforts her like no one living can. She vaguely wonders if she’s doing the right thing in the forest today.

She wishes she could finally relent. She wishes she could see who would care if she did. She wishes she could see her friends, her family’s reaction if she killed herself. She wishes more than anything to know.

Her brown hair dances around her face as the wind whispers its secrets to her. In that moment, she realises no one has the right to know. She realises that her family would mourn her. She realises that it is unfair to the other people who visit the hollow tree for her to ruin its secrecy.

As she does every other day, she plucks a leaf off the tree and whispers her secrets to it. She drops it and watches as it flutters gracefully to the ground where it settles with all the other secrets. She takes one last look at the ancient hollow tree and whispers “Thank you,” her voice is soft, almost unheard, even in the quiet of the forest, but it is there all the same. Just as it is every other day. She smiles and makes her way out of the forest, back to reality.